#and in general the women competitions are more fun to watch ..

[smentarzysko]

this is so funny that eight out of the ten total medals for team poland have been won by women. fund women's sports more !!!!!!!

[chrissv4mp]

MISS ME? ᝰ.ᐟ

warnings. smut, angst, fluff, fingering, g!p (girl penis), p in v, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, car sex, switch!billie × switch!reader, added characters, porn with some sort of plot, language.

synopsis. billie eilish. everybody knows her: the girl who always left both men and women in the dust during her races. you've been the starter to each one of them, and recently, you've noticed she hasn't been showing up. it's been two years, and when a big new name comes into town, billie's quick to pull up to reclaim her special title. and her girl.

au. g!p street racer!billie × starter!reader

words. 6.7k

letters. let's excuse my horrific description of street racing—and just cars in general.... also, i'm re-reading this and just now realizing i only made one reference to 'just keep watching...' the song i was originally taking inspiration from—alongside '2 hands' and 'sports car'..... anyway, enjoyyy!!! i had so much fun writing this 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

there's a stretch of road just outside of the city no one uses anymore—too bumpy for traffic, too dark for cameras, and too far out for any law official to care. potholes like craters. traffic lights flickering yellow every now and then. most maps don't even list the name of the street anymore.

but the second the clock ticks past 11pm, the place lights up like vegas. and everyone who matters knows where to go.

you're always there before the first wave of engines start to pull in, headphones slung around your neck, pistol on your waist, boots up on the concrete barrier like you own the damn place—because you basically do. since you were just sixteen. an older girlfriend of yours had brought you to one of the races, offered to let you shoot the starting pistol, and you fell in love with it instantly. the adrenaline. the rush. and now, five years later you're not even the slightest bit bored.

your clipboard's tucked under your arm, pen behind your ear, eyes focused on the roster of names and heats for the night.

behind you, the old lot's filling fast—old imports, mustangs, beat-up chevys with rebuilt engines and matte paint jobs that already have scratches. headlights making the dust particles visible, exhaust rolling low and thick through the air. cars park in crooked rows beside yours, grills gleaming under the floodlight hung on the power pole. some racers lean against their hoods with their arms crossed, scoping out the competition. others are all talk, loud and gassed up, trying to seem special before they even touch the start line.

you don't flinch when engines rev. don't move a muscle when someone pulls up too close. you've been the starter long enough to know who's real and who's noise.

and you? you're something in between. not a racer. not a spectator. but the one who calls the shots, drops the flag—the signal that turns waiting into war.

people watch you more than they should. and, yeah, you notice, you just don't care.

the boys flirt. some ask if you've got a favorite just to see if you'll flatter them. you never do.

you do have a favorite, though.

but you never say her name. not anymore. not after she kissed you without informing you it was her last race and just up and left without another word—without a proper goodbye, without a proper way of letting you know how she felt towards you.

though, you do still say things like: "no one ever drove that curve like she did," or "that start? it was okay. my girl used to redline smoother."

or the one that always riles them up—"mariah's fast, sure. but she wouldn't beat my girl. not if they went head to head."

and that's when they start arguing.

"you're crazy."

"who the fuck even is 'your girl'?"

"mariah would kill her."

you let them talk, let it go in one ear and out the other. you don't bother answering them when they ask who she is. don't mention that you still check the list every week in hopes of her being on it. you don't tell them she's the only racer on the track who ever had your heart stuttering when she looked at you from behind her tinted windshield and smiled like she already knew how the night was gonna end.

it's nearing midnight when a particularly loud engine rolls into the lot, and you look up quickly—a cherry red charger, engine purring low and smug. some whistle. some cheer. others hold up their phones like they're filming something that can only be seen once in a lifetime. mariah moore.

she kills the engine and steps out slow, calm. mariah's a whole show: gold hoops, leather jacket, acrylic nails brushing her tan cheek as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. she doesn't look at you, not at first. but you can feel the way the air shifts.

someone murmurs, "she's takin' it all."

you shake your head mindlessly. your mind drifts. like always.

because even with mariah here—the biggest name in street racing, fastest in the city—she doesn't make the street rumble like billie did, she doesn't even compare to the way billie had your palms sweating and your breath hitching.

you don't say it out loud. but she's already here.

lingering in the sound of a loud bass in someone's car. ghosting through the exhaust haze. trapped in the back of your throat each time someone asks, "who's your favorite?"

they all think mariah would crush her just because you keep her nameless. but you know better.

you know what it felt like when billie pulled up the line, slow and sure, making everybody forget who they really came to watch. you'd recognize the sound of her engine from a mile away, the melody of the song that was always playing when she rolled in.

you're leaning back in one of the old metal chairs under the check-in tent, clipboard in hand now, pen in the other, trying to make sense of the barely legible names scribbled in sharpie and faded pencil. the lot feels more alive than any other night before—laughter echoing off the crumbling brick of the nearby warehouse, engines revving in an effort to intimidate others, bass rocking a few cars subtly.

someone slides up next to you. aiden, one of the other starters. tall, kinda weird, always smells faintly of gasoline and peppermint gum.

"you got heat one lined up yet?" he asks, leaning in to scan the paper over your shoulder.

"workin' on it," you mutter, squinting at the mess of names, pen caught between your teeth. "who the hell wrote 'slim jim with the jaguar'? i swear, these guys are getting out of control."

aiden laughs, full and loud. "hey, that's jaxson. he's been coming out since last spring. you'll probably remember him once his muffler explodes again."

you shake your head with a soft laugh, but your attention stays sharp. you've done this a million times—balancing chaos, keeping things moving, occasionally breaking up a fight or two. you're not just the starter, you run this area of the streets.

"alright," you say, tapping the paper. "heat one is jaxson, reneé, and..."

before you can finish, a silhouette of black and red steps into your peripheral.

mariah.

black leather jacket, tight red crop top, sweatpants low on her hips like she owns the pavement. she walks like a girl who knows she's untouchable—chin up, hair falling over her shoulders effortlessly, eyes locked on you.

"got my name on there?" she asks, voice smooth.

you glance up, meet her gaze. unreadable, but steady. it doesn't faze you at all.

"heat three," you say, clicking your pen and tapping the paper again. "against miles and taylor."

she hums, eyes scanning the list and sighing like she's disappointed. "figured i'd get someone tougher. guess not."

"miles' been doing pretty well," aiden chimes in. "heard taylor's been doing overtime off the track to prepare."

mariah shrugs, uninterested. "i'll dust 'em anyway."

"real humble, moore," is what you want to say, but you keep it in your mind. you don't doubt her words, you just don't feel like she has the right to brag that much just yet.

so you just nod instead, standing up and setting the clipboard on the table beside the flags.

"check-in's by the cones," you say simply, nodding toward the start. "just tell 'em your name and they'll put you in the lineup."

mariah doesn't move right away. she lingers. eyes still on you, tilting her head just a bit to meet your gaze.

"...you seem quiet tonight," she says. "nothin' like before."

you raise an eyebrow, eyes flicking to hers, "and what was i like before?"

she grins. "flirty. sharp. mouthy as hell."

you scoff, turning toward the cars. "maybe your conversations just aren't as flirt-worthy as the other girls' are."

aiden laughs a little, then starts to walk away when mariah glares at him.

mariah laughs, low and real. "okay, starter girl. i'll catch you after i win, sound good?"

you don't respond, instead offering a single nod that doesn't really come off as one. but the second she walks away, that flicker starts again. and not from her. definitely not from her.

from the back of your mind.

the itch of a ghost. again. billie, who always made you stumble over your words like no other—nearly making you forget to shoot the gun when she sent a wink your way from inside her car.

you don't even realizing you're scanning the lot again until aiden comes up and nudges your side.

"expecting someone else tonight?"

you blink. "nah."

but the lie tastes bitter. because billie's name isn't on your list. and you're still looking for her anyway.

praying silently that you'll hear the low hum of a bass line later in the night, that you'll feel the familiar vibration of her engine beneath your feet, through your body.

you look over at the start line just as matthew waves you over. heat one is lined up a few feet behind the line, engines revving, the racers exchanging glances.

the crowd goes quiet as you walk over, starting pistol in one hand, the other resting casually on your hip.

you raise your arm, breathing in deeply, eyes locked on the cars—then you shoot the gun.

they're off before you can even process it, a silver camaro speeding past the line quicker than the others. everyone bursts into loud cheers for their separate bids, others only screaming just to scream.

it was always comforting hearing the cheers and laughter coming from the crowd—even if they weren't for you, it felt like you were still getting your flowers each time you shot the gun and everyone erupted into a loud choir of excitement and happiness. you thrived on it, but never would you dare get behind the wheel and actually drive in one of the races.

billie always terrified you with the way she drove—sometimes with only her knees, other times with one hand while she went 100 on the last curve before she really stepped on the gas and flew down the finish line in first place.

you recall the times she asked you to ride with her. "everything's always better with you. like... like a good luck charm," she'd said to you, fingers twirling a strand of your hair between her fingers before one of the biggest races of her life—and the last race you'd seen her at.

the sound of an engine quickly approaching broke you out of your trance. jaxson's purple jaguar skidding across the finish. reneé comes in second, her black audi following a few feet behind.

then the crowd erupts in mixed reactions, some angry and sad, others screaming and jumping around happily like they've just been rewarded with a million dollars in cash—which, in reality, no bid today was even a quarter of that amount.

the next heat passes by slower than the first, a few rookies taking the wheels of cars that they definitely spent their entire life savings on and didn't research at all.

it's all heat and noise around you—couples kissing over the hoods of cars and girls arguing about something that sounds like a cheating boyfriend? you can't really hear over the loud, obnoxious rev of mariah's charger at the start line, the hood just a few inches away from your legs where you stood between her and her opponent.

you felt the atmosphere change as soon as her name was called to the line. the crowd went quieter, murmurs filling the night instead of loud hollers and disapproving boo's for opposing racers. you couldn't blame them, she was the biggest name in street racing right now—but she was no billie eilish. nowhere near that territory. she didn't even compare to your girl. not now, not ever.

but still, you can feel her eyes on you before she even rolls down her window, smirk calm and cocky. "promise me a date if i win?" it makes your lips curl into a small, amused smile.

"what's the point?" you say, tilting your head to see her better. "i already know taylor's gonna beat you by a mile."

mariah laughs once, hollow. "yeah, funny joke."

you cock a brow. "never said i was joking, moore."

aiden snaps at you off to the side. you don't bother giving him a mere glance. instead, you just walk over to mariah's window and lean over, lips so close she feels your breath on her skin.

"fine," you whisper. "but if you pull some shit like you did last time, except to be blacklisted from any future race you're lookin' forward to."

her expression change is so subtle you're sure nobody would think she's fazed even in the slightest, but you see the way her brows furrow just that little bit, the way her lips twitch in that cocky grin that's wavering on nervous now.

"good luck," the tone of your voice is sweeter than before, eyes softening as you walk back to the middle and pull the gun from it's holster in your belt.

mariah rolls her window back up slowly, eyes locking onto the road in front of her as silence envelopes the crowd.

pop.

and they're off.

everyone lets the quiet continue for a second longer before going insane. grown men are screeching like little girls as they scream mariah's name, bouncing on their toes as they watch her clear the curve. smooth. calculated.

everything she does almost looks staged.

taylor trails behind her in a white bmw m3, drifting around the curve and momentarily grabbing first place. you can feel the tension from all the way across the track, your own heart pounding wildly in your chest—the deal with mariah sounds stupid now that you're watching her keep up with taylor.

"shit," you sigh, stepping back from the track quickly and running a hand through your hair, eyes never once leaving the cars.

aiden walks up just as you say it. you hate how he always has the worst timing. "finally see why mariah was named the best?"

you shake your head, and it slips from between your lips before you can stop it. "no, just finally realizing how stupid i was for promising her a date if she won."

he smirks. "same thing."

the final stretch of the race has you clutching onto your pistol, breath caught in your throat—it's mariah and taylor. miles isn't even in the question anymore, having spun out near the first curve.

it's a blur of white and red as they pass the finish line, engines roaring over the crowds applause and screams. not even you can tell who won—and it seems that neither can the girls as they come to a stop and jump out of their cars, their breaths still controlled as if they didn't have everyone on the edge of their seats.

matthew runs to watch the playback, and you swear you see his hands shaking as he brushes past you.

it's quiet as everyone watches him rewind the tape from the camera at the line.

one beat.

two.

then, "mariah moore. first place by a millisecond."

it's even louder than you expect it to be—people honking their horns while hanging out of them in the parking lot, groups of friends crowding each other and jumping up and down, someone even pulling out a megaphone and starting a chant of mariah's name. that makes you let out a quiet giggle.

but as you watch mariah jump back in her car and park it off to the side, nothing's funny anymore—because her next stop was definitely your house, picking you up late in the afternoon tomorrow for the date.

mariah hops out of her car again, strutting over with even more confidence and cockiness than before. her eyes are locked on you, smile growing, hair flowing perfectly in the cool night air.

she stops in front of you, already pulling her phone out of her back pocket. "think you owe me—"

the sound of an unexpected rev catches everyone's attention. including yours—in fact, you're the first one to turn your head in the direction of the noise.

your heart nearly jumps out of your chest.

that familiar vibration of a bass through blown-out speakers, the thick exhaust smoke trailing behind the car—the car.

billie's black dodge challenger.

mariah is the last thing on your mind now, your eyes locked on the windshield, hoping you'd see her sexy grin even through the dark tint that was definitely illegal. she doesn't even park in a space, just stops in front of the check-in tent and gets out, jordan's hitting the ground lightly, shorts hanging low on her hips despite the temperature, brown strands falling over her shoulders.

the crowd has the same reaction as they did before mariah's race, but the murmurs are louder—more curious.

"is that really her?"

"holy shit, i thought she was gone for real."

"time for mariah to retire."

"didn't she quit?"

billie doesn't spare them a glance. her focus is set on the check-in table, steps long and filled with confidence that even had mariah crumbling a little. you watch as she walks toward aiden, who stood behind the table with a clipboard in hand. he looks up, and you swear you see his jaw drop.

"i want a race," she says—no, demands. firm. unrelenting. "the best you've got. can you do that for me?"

aiden stutters, struggling to find his voice as he steps forward. though he was starstruck, he was also very strict on the rules. "i—i'm sorry, we've already got everyone in their assigned heats. there's no—"

"nah, i don't think you heard me," billie brushes him off, shaking her head with a smirk that you always saw when she was getting pissed off. "i want a race."

"yeah, and i said—"

"she's right here, eilish," you cut in, motioning toward mariah, and billie's head turns instantly. the smirk on her face grows into one of excitement, eyes glinting with something you can't quite name.

the brunette scoffs, his eyes widening. "y/n, you can't—"

you eye him. "she's billie fuckin' eilish. go read an article before denying her again."

billie laughs quietly, pushing off the table and walking over to you, stepping between you and mariah, who she doesn't pay any mind. her eyes flick to your lips, biting down on her own before finally looking you in the eyes.

"miss me?" she whispers.

you shrug. "did you win yet?"

her smirk grows. then she gives a shrug of her own and raises her brows. "we'll see."

mariah steps forward just as billie steps back, the two of them now side by side in front of you. their eyes gravitate toward each other, both of them giving the other an obvious once-over before billie speaks.

"mariah moore," she murmurs. "i've heard about you. best racer in town as of now, yeah?"

"yeah," mariah answers quietly. "you must be billie. haven't shown up to a race since 2022, correct?"

the question has no obvious bite, but the tone in which she says it has billie poking the inside of her cheek in frustration, nodding her head instead of saying something stupid.

"hurry up, girls," you interrupt, nodding toward the line as they both look up at you.

"yes, ma'am." they answer.

billie jogs back to her car quickly, jumping in and pulling around to the line, the crowd pulling back and forming a path for her. it's nearly silent now as mariah reverses just behind the line again, the low hum of both engines setting the mood.

tension is high as you step onto the track again, planting your feet firmly onto the small sliver of pavement between both cars.

you look over at billie, who flashes a smirk before turning back to the road, lips lowering into a thin, tight line. once she was focused nobody was able to break her out—not until after she won the race.

then you glance at mariah, who's already staring at the road, gripping her steering wheel tighter than she did when put up against taylor and miles. the last race scared her, you could tell in the way she was so quiet after jumping out of her car earlier—so there was no doubt she was terrified right now.

your eyes flick to the pavement behind them, pulling out your gun and raising your arm, elbow straight. you inhale, exhale.

the gun goes off.

and so do billie and mariah.

billie's challenger jumps forward first in your peripheral, and you turn quickly to see who gets the starting advantage. it's billie, per usual. the adrenaline running through your veins is 20x more strong than it was when you were watching mariah's race. because after not seeing billie race in so long, you're unsure if she still has it.

but you don't lean into the doubt just yet.

mariah's red charger weaves around billie's challenger, taking the curve perfectly and bursting out of it. she doesn't get far. billie kicks her gear lower and speeds past mariah with practiced ease, accelerating quick and drifting on the last curve.

you hold your breath as mariah creeps up on billie, engine revving loud as she tries keeping up with her—but billie's already got the length of a car hood between her. the crowd screams in anticipation, watching as billie bolts through the finish line and slowly comes to a stop.

mariah follows behind her, tires not moving nearly as fast as billie's were. the crowd is speechless, not even hollering coherent words anymore, just babbles of nonsense and excited cheers and squeals.

billie reverses with her head sticking out of her window, a proud grin on her face as she parks just off of the track. she steps out, and you can already feel the smugness radiating off her even from a few feet away.

she walks over to mariah, tapping her shoulder and holding out a hand. "good race," she compliments. "'m'not bad, considering i've been gone since 2022, right?"

you see mariah's expression flip quickly, brows furrowing in frustration as she pushes away from billie and mutters something under her breath.

billie's in front of you before you can even announce the winner—even though it's clear.

"let's try this again," she breathes, taking your hand and bringing it up to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "miss me?"

your hand finds the collar of her shirt, pulling her close, lips mere inches away from hers. "you know i did."

you don't let her get another word out before kissing her. hard. passionate. like you've been waiting for this since the last moment you saw her. because you have. you've been waiting for it so desperately and now you finally get to do it.

her hands find your waist, pulling your hips forward, pressing your body flush against hers as she kisses you back just as passionately, eyes fluttering shut, heart thumping against her chest so loud she's sure you've already heard it.

you pull away abruptly, breathing hard. "let me show you."

billie doesn't miss a beat—and you don't even care about the small, sharp pain in your wrist as she twists it, dragging you toward her car and practically shoving you into the passenger seat.

you swear you hear aiden call after you, but billie's already pressing on the gas and speeding out of the lot without a second thought.

she doesn't drive far from the noise, pulling off to the side directly under a blue streetlight, a ray shining in through the tinted windshield. billie shifts into park, then glances over at you, still breathless.

neither of you say another word. you just climb over the center console and straddle her lap, legs pressed against either of her thighs, hands snaking up her chest and around her neck, squeezing lightly just to hear her gasp.

then you lean forward, lips finding hers, rougher than before—dirtier because you weren't accompanied by a large, judgemental crowd. billie's tongue presses against your lips, asking politely for entrance. you grant it without another thought in your hazy mind, moaning softly against her mouth when you feel her tongue clashing against yours.

her hands slide down your body, squeezing your waist gently. then they move down to your ass, pulling you down against her lap, pulling you closer to her like she wants to morph your bodies into one.

"don't ever fuckin' leave like that again," you growl against her lips, kissing down her jaw, then scattering open-mouthed kisses along the expanse of her neck.

she huffs a laugh, head falling back against the headrest, eyelids fluttering shut as she lets out a small, relaxed breath.

your teeth nip softly at her pulse point, eliciting a pained hiss from between her pretty lips—you soothe the bite with your tongue, sucking gently, the sensation a contrast from the sharp pain just moments ago.

billie brings a hand up to your hair, fingers tangling in the messy strands of your hair. "thought you'd have forgiven me by now."

a scoff escapes your throat at her words, but it dies down into a surprised gasp when she bucks her hips up, something hard pressing against your clothed core. a shiver runs up your spine.

"don't get an attitude with me now, sweetheart."

you roll your eyes, lips pressing back onto her skin, one of your hands snaking down her chest and slipping under the hem of her shirt, fingertips teasing the smooth skin of her stomach. her breath catches noticeably, pulse jumping under your tongue.

"i have every right to have an attitude with you," you grumble, palm finding the cup of her bra and squeezing through the fabric. "i should fucking hate you. i mean, you kissed me and then up and left without another word. a text would've been enough, billie."

billie bucks her hips again, groaning at the pleasure.

"let me make it up to you then," she pants, slapping your ass.

her hand untangles from your hair, sliding down your neck, your chest, your stomach, before eventually snaking down into your little shorts. the damp spot on your panties is enough to make her moan, eyelids fluttering open to meet your eyes as you gasp.

she stares directly into your eyes while stroking your clit through your panties, biting her lip and smiling as she watches your brows furrow in pleasure, hands finding her shoulders, nails digging into her skin even through the fabric of her shirt.

then she slips her fingers past the cotton waistband, fingertips sliding through your soaked folds, running along your dripping slit and slowly pushing in two of them. the moan that escapes your throat is long. loud. like you've been holding it in for her since before you can remember.

your eyes roll back when she scissors her index and middle fingers inside of your cunt, thighs trembling around her lap, nails unrelenting on her shoulders.

"yeah," she coos. "there you go, baby girl. just needed me to fill this greedy pussy of yours for you to shut up, hm?"

billie lets out a moan of her own when you roll your hips forward, pressing down just enough for her to feel it through both the fabric of your pants and her own. she bites her lip, hips bucking up involuntarily as she watches you get off on her fingers.

she inhales sharply. "so tight, too. fuck," she breathes. "been waitin' for me, haven't you?"

you nod mindlessly, jaw falling agape when billie pushes her fingers deeper, thumb finding your clit and pressing down hard. if that wasn't making you see stars, the added pleasure of her lips on your neck definitely was.

"billie, oh my fucking—" you cut yourself off with a guttural moan, hips stuttering against her palm. "god—i—fuck you."

you feel her grin grow against your neck, lips so soft and plump and mind-consuming as she continues kissing you, fucking you. deep. hard. passionate.

"in a minute, doll," she teases. "can't even be patient and wait for my cock. so fuckin' greedy." she murmurs, kissing her teeth.

a low whine of frustration emits from your throat at her teasing, walls clenching around her fingers as you feel your orgasm start to approach quickly. your breathing goes shallow, quick, short breaths falling from between your kiss-swollen lips.

"shit—gonna, oh my god, m'gonna cum!" you whine.

billie huffs. "c'mon, mama. make a mess f'me."

and you do.

with a loud, broken moan, your walls flutter around her fingers and you finally feel the knot snap in your tummy. she slowly works you down from your high, muttering sweet nothings into your neck as she leaves a litter of kisses all over your skin.

her free hand creeps up your chest, fingers wrapping loosely around your neck—casually. like she owns you.

and after this, maybe she will.

"this make up for my absence?" she hums, thumb running along your pulse point, feeling it jump under the pad of her fingers. she presses down, eliciting a gasp from you.

you laugh quietly, but it cuts off into a disappointed moan when billie slips her fingers out of your cunt slowly.

she brings them up to her lips just as you open your eyes, pushing them in, plump lips wrapping around lengthy digits, tongue moving between the crevices and licking off every last remnant of your sweetness.

cold blue eyes never leave yours, eyelids hooded and dark with lust and desperation—and love, above everything.

you bite your lip, already pulling off your shorts and ruined panties, throwing them into the backseat. "m'still mad at you. but i know what'll make it better..."

billie releases her fingers with a 'pop,' a smirk growing on her lips once again. she cocks an eyebrow, tilting her head, eyes finally leaving yours to trail down your half-naked body. her eyes land on your dripping pussy, clit swollen and puffy, arousal leaking down your smooth thighs. she groans.

"yeah, and what's that?" she inquires, hips already moving.

silence. instead, you answer with your hands—fingers undoing the button of her jeans, then pulling down her zipper. you lift yourself slightly, tugging her jeans down until they fall to her ankles.

there's a small damp spot on her boxers, a large bulge prominent in the dark fabric, straining against it. billie whimpers when you cup your hand over the print, hips lifting instinctively at the touch.

she hisses when you squeeze gently, your eyes finally snapping up to hers.

"this—" you squeeze her again. then adding, "—inside of me."

billie nods eagerly, hands leaving your body, moving quickly to pull down the last layer of fabric that was currently denying her access to your core. she could feel the warmth stronger now that her lower half was clad in only her boxers.

you lift your hips again, helping billie tug the fabric down to ankles, joining her jeans. her cock springs up, slapping against her lower stomach softly before standing at attention.

her tip is a light red, leaking profusely with pre-cum that spills down her 9 inch shaft until it reaches the base. she's already such a sticky mess and you've hardly touched her.

it made you giggle.

"looks like you missed me more," you tease, looking at her through your lashes.

billie sighs, nodding again, hands scrambling to find your hips again. she tries pulling you closer, tries to even run the tip of her cock through your slick folds—but your nails dig into her forearms, and she yelps quietly.

"hypocritical much, don't you think?" you giggle again, and billie pouts deeply, hands relaxing on your hips. "patience, baby—remember that?"

you lift yourself higher, positioning your dripping slit directly over billie's tip, and you hear her breath hitch before you even sink down in the slightest. and when you lower yourself, billie lets out a noise you weren't sure she was even capable of.

she whimpers brokenly—high-pitched and already hoarse—as her cock splits you open, stretching you out slowly as you continue to lower yourself until you reach the base.

billie's nails dig crescent-shaped indents into your skin, the pleasure already too overwhelming.

"fuuck," she groans, dragging it out. her head falls back against the headrest, eyes squeezed shut. "you—fuck—have you, mmh, always been this t-tight?"

you moan softly when you feel billie buck her hips up again, her tip kissing your cervix. she gasps at the feeling, cock twitching between your gummy, warm walls.

her mind goes blank.

you stay in the position for a moment longer, trying to adjust to her size. your hands wrap around her neck, nails scratching along her skin and sending a shiver down her spine. the feeling of your breath so hot on her lips has her in a trance she's not sure she'll be able to break out of.

billie leans forward to capture your lips in a needy, sloppy kiss just as you start to move, hips lifting until all that was left inside of you was her tip—then slamming back down. hard. desperate.

both of your moans are muffled against each other's mouths, lips parting. you sneak your tongue into her mouth, tasting her—and she falls apart even further underneath you, fingers twitching at your sides.

your hands slide across her neck, hips grinding fast, hard, just right for the both of you—billie squeals into your mouth when she feels you clench around her.

"baby, fuck," she grunts, grabbing onto your hips tighter and thrusting her hips up, pushing her cock deeper. "missed you, missed you so—god, i missed you so much. c-couldn't stop thinkin' about you."

a moan passes by your lips when you pull away. "yeah? touched yourself to—shit—to me?"

billie nods frantically, brows knitting together and jaw falling lower. her hips stutter—a clear sign of her impending orgasm. but you don't stop. don't even pull away or slow down in the slightest.

you needed it. needed to feel her cum inside of you.

the windows fog around you, and now the blue shine from the streetlight is hazy, different shades of blues spilling in through the windshield and onto your bodies and faces. you can feel the car shaking beneath you two.

but it only urges you to keep going.

harder.

faster.

billie mewls quietly, struggling to hold herself together. "holy shit—baby. baby, baby, m'gonna cum! can't hold—fuck, i can't hold it, i—"

"cum, bil," you moan. loud. breathy. "want it—need it so bad. please, please cum inside me."

the second that jumbled sentence left your mouth, billie let herself go—body trembling, mind short-circuiting. your jaw falls open in a silent moan at the combined pleasure of your own orgasm and the feeling of thick, warm ropes of her cum painting your insides.

billie whimpers beneath your body, nuzzling her head into the crook of your neck like she needs your scent to stay alive.

it's all heat and heavy breathing after that—the windows still fogged, skin still layered with a thin sheen of sweat, loose hairs sticking to your neck and forehead. billie stays with her face in your neck, arms wrapping around your back, your own hands still around her neck.

billie pulls out slowly as not to overstimulate you any further, helping you lift yourself off her lap. you lean over the center console and grab your shorts from the backseat, pulling them on once you're seated in the passenger side.

you watch billie pull up her own boxers and jeans, buttoning and zipping them with trembling fingers, still facing a few of the aftershocks of her orgasm.

and, though she's still spent, billie's the first to talk.

"...do you forgive me now?"

you can't help but giggle—you wonder how she still even remembered the situation you two were in. it slipped your mind the second you sunk down on her cock.

"i think you know the answer to that," you exhale, stroking her damp hair gently.

billie hums, then pulls away from your neck, eyes softer than you'd ever seen—sincere, a little worried. "...yeah, but i wanna hear you say it."

your face changes, features softening once you hear the quiet, shaky tone of her voice. fear swirled in the pools of her ocean blue irises, and it's only then that you realize she really was worried about this the entire time.

taking her face in your hands, you pull her close, eyes flicking back and forth between the two of hers. she bites her lip, an unreadable expression flashing over her features—fear again, maybe. or maybe it's hope. you can't tell.

"i never hated you for leaving, billie," you explain. firm. "it just... scared me. i thought you wouldn't come back, and i almost lost hope—until tonight."

a ghost of a grin curls on billie's lips.

"so, yes, i do forgive you. even if i still think kissing me before leaving without another word was really low of you," you murmur.

billie inhales, exhales. "i know, that—that was stupid of me."

her lips find your cheek, then your forehead. and, finally, your lips. and then she looks at you again. "nationals were just... they were all over the place, and i finally realized that i had some sort of feelings toward you. but i didn't know what they were—"

"—and when you were the first one to come up and hug me after i won, i just—i felt so full of love and adoration and it all just spilled over and—" she pauses. finds her words. "and i kissed you because i felt like it was too early to tell you..."

she trails off, voice going quiet near the end. she looks away for a moment. and when she feels your thumb brush across her cheek, her eyes snap back.

"...to tell you that i loved—that i love you."

your breath catches.

it's not what you expected her to say—far from anything that popped into your mind. but everything you were thinking quickly faded as soon as she said those three little words:

i love you.

words that you'd only hear in teasing tones from drunk guys who came up to you during races, from racers that were still riding high on the adrenaline they got from winning.

but now, hearing it from billie, it felt like your whole world shifted on it's axis.

billie's cheeks flush pink when you don't reply, shifting uncomfortably in her seat and nearly pulling away from your touch—but you pull her back. into a kiss. one that's far more passionate than the ones before. it's filled with something you can't describe with words. something far stronger than love and adoration and admiration.

when you pull away, you're both out of breath.

"i love you, too," you murmur after a beat, eyes never leaving billie's. you wanted her to know that you meant it.

and, by the look on her face, you were almost 100% sure it got through to her. a cheesy smile curled up on her lips, her teeth shining bright even in the dark space of the car. you return the same smile, and billie practically throws her arms around you.

she pulls you as close as she can over the center console, nose nuzzled into your neck, inhaling your scent—and it felt like she was smelling an entire different person. because now there was a weight lifted off her chest and a something new blooming in her heart.

you hold her just as tight, unable to get rid of the stupidly big smile on your face—especially when you feel billie's fingers twitching nervously on your back.

you both just hold each other like that for a few minutes. in silence. but it's not an uncomfortable silence, far from it. it's warm. gentle. filled with shared understanding.

and, suddenly, you forget that she even left in the first place.

tags. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @love4madii @livvydunneness @partyf4vor @chxhir0 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @mybluebossanova @strwberrybils @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @bilsova @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @dragoneyelashart @xxangelfarrlzxx @ilomiloblohshh @kittymarrow @meliciousmel13 @jul3esz @rightarion @svelish @eilishssiennaa @eeuni @dragoneyelashart @thinkshespretty @cnnibalize @canthelpit0 @hailwiggly @karaaeilish @bilswifee @drunkinyourbenz @aka-persephone @bitchesbrokenpromises @jayjaywetforbils @slvt4subchratt @cantlandonmyfeet @tezzzzzzzz

[tossawary]

When writing fanfiction, there are a lot of unknowns surrounding Mobei-Jun that I answer based on what I think is compelling, funny, and/or contrasts well against SQH | Airplane Bro. (Sometimes, based on what contrasts interestingly and/or hilariously against Luo Binghe or Shen Qingqiu.) The choices I make for MBJ also depend on what suits that particular story.

An interesting question: "What kind of literature does Mobei-Jun like?" He's Airplane Bro's Ideal Man / Dream Guy! It's fun to think about what Mobei-Jun's relationship might be to fiction.

One choice that I've pulled a few times now is having Mobei-Jun be functionally illiterate, mostly because I think that situation is an interesting / amusing contrast to the guy who technically wrote the world into existence. Airplane Bro was cranking out thousands of words per day to eat, selling out his honest passion for literature, and Mobei-Jun can't / doesn't read.

There are lots of different potential reasons for this! Maybe Mobei-Jun is dyslexic. Maybe he desperately needs reading glasses and doesn't realize it. (Yes, maybe half of his glaring is just squinting.) Maybe his education was really bad because his family tried to murder him too many times. Maybe he just doesn't have any interest in fiction or in reading as a hobby in general, because paper / writing is rare in the Demon Realm for a variety of reasons and he's been busy building more relevant skills.

(Airplane Bro is shocked and offended, yes, but mostly because Mobei-Jun somehow successfully hid being unable to read from him for two or more decades. All of those "you read it" and "you write it" orders suddenly make so much sense.)

Another direction for "Mobei-Jun's relationship to media" that I've been enjoying lately as a premise is that Mobei-Jun is the sort of person who would have genuinely enjoyed "Proud Immortal Demon Way". But, like, in a weird way. Like, maybe Mobei-Jun isn't there for the women or the power fantasy, but he's fascinated by the cage of dissatisfaction, misery, and cruelty that the protagonist is building around himself using empty pleasures and merciless vengeance. Mobei-Jun is there for the tragedy. Everyone else in the comments section would think that he's a weirdo for different reasons, including Airplane Bro, but Mobei-Jun is (by accident) operating on a level where he sees the vision.

Alternate direction on "Mobei-Jun would like PIDW, actually": maybe he would like it because he actually loves trashy drama and stupid catfights. He's there for the comedy. He grew up in an environment where his father stole his uncle's wife and his own uncle tried to kill him multiple times, after all. In PIDW itself, right-hand man Mobei-Jun somehow successfully suffered years upon years of Luo Binghe's harem nonsense, and maybe Mobei-Jun was having the time of his life watching Sha Hualing start shit in the harem, actually!

Maybe in a Modern AU, Airplane Bro would try to sound intelligent and cultured by talking to his rich boss / boyfriend about classy literature, only to find out that Mobei-Jun basically only watches reality television competitions where people are constantly trying to tear each other's hair out for money. If people aren't screaming in each other's faces over a spilled glass of wine, throwing plates at each other over a stolen boyfriend or a ruined wedding, or backstabbing each other via wardrobe sabotage to get ahead, then Mobei-Jun is bored. Fighting matches or extremely dangerous sports are also fine, though, sure. (Airplane Bro doesn't like any of this stuff. He's a fantasy novel guy. He has no idea how to react to this.)

Another funny direction for "Mobei-Jun's relationship to media" is that maybe "Proud Immortal Demon Way" wouldn't actually be weird ENOUGH for Mobei-Jun's tastes. Maybe Mobei-Jun would be like that guy who claims "if I can guess the twist, then it's not suspense - suspense is when I don't know what's going to happen next, period" and reads long-running, amateur, foreign, abstract web-novels that he has to put through an online translator himself. Maybe in a Modern AU with this opinion, Mobei-Jun loyally watches telenovelas and Bollywood soap operas. Airplane Bro comes into the room and says, "Wow, not even any subtitles? You can understand what they're saying?" and Mobei-Jun says sincerely, "No. You have to figure out what's happening without them. This is the intended viewing experience."

[katshelluvacritic]

So…. Glitz and Glam huh… y’know what that means my fellow artists and critics…

REDESIGN TIME!!!! + (A bit of critics/opinions on the characters and the og design :-] )

To start it out a lil’ positive, If I gotta be honest I actually kinda liked these two characters from the mid-season special, even though they were just the bitchy woman character your supposed to hate (as if we needed any more of those characters than we already got viv), they were still really fun as characters in my opinion!

I feel like bitchy esc kind of character very much works for these two coupled with them being very competitive towards fizz in the episode, I feel like those two things were like the bread and butter for these characters and if I wanna be honest… I kinda wanna see these two again but wouldn’t be surprised if that didn’t happened bc c’mon this helluva boss we’re talking about after all!

The only thing I would have to say negatively about these two is that they literally got crushed by a rock in the end, like I get it viv hates writing characters who are woman but COME ONNN, you had these two characters that seem really interesting and the only climax you could’a think for them in the ep was to crush them with a rock? That’s literally lame.

But other than that, I think overall these characters were alright! At least writing wise….

Now for the redesign + critic thing on the og designs

I decided to change her outfit bc although I loved the character’s personality, the outfit viv gave them not fit them at all. The jester esc outfit personally I think doesn’t really work for these two because 1. The jester theme Fizzarolli’s thing and 2. It doesn’t really work well with their personality, the song they sang in my opinion shows that.

So I thought I’d base their outfits off of the bratz outfits and also any outfits similar to that, to try to fit their characters more!

That and I’m just getting real sick and tired of the jester/clown theming that’s going on in hb because oh my god it feels so out of place, especially with the theme of greed ring being a trashy polluted city. And even if, EVEN IF viv wanted to give them clown esc themed outfits, I feel like it would’ve made more sense if she gave them outfit that were similar to mimes because technically those guys are like elegant clowns! While jesters aren’t even the same as clowns at all.

I also kept the green ish’ tones while also giving them a bit off red and purple colors to compliment the identical twin duo thing they have going on! Because like… do I even have to say why I did it? Their colors are literally just black and the same exact hues of green, it was literally hard to focus on them when watching the episode because of much they blended in with the background.

I also took inspiration from this fish when designing them because from as far as I can tell (and do correct if I’m wrong), they’re supposed to be fish demons??? So I tried to add more fish motifs for them!

I also made them half succubus from the horns looking similar to that and also because I thought it’d be fitting for them!

I also made their hair look like fish fins because oh my god their hair in the canon design was probably the worst part about their designs, not only did it have too many details that it was too distracting when I was trying to pay attention to the characters but also I just trying to figure out how the hair works in general, because it honestly their hair kinda looked like paper instead of fish fins or even actual hair.

But other than that uhh…

TLDR: I love these guys sm, they deserved much better and uhhh I love women /hj

[fizzyjacuzzi]

K-pop demon hunters is a fun watch, the songs are catchy and good, animation and art direction amazing, but I'm not really a big fan of how they gloss over the k-pop industry like it's very clean, instant, and easy. It feels like an outsider's perspective of what k-pop is.

Disclaimer: I was pretty active in kpop fandom spaces during 2019-2023, and still keep up some until this day.

(opinion + criticism under cut, along with out of context spoilers)

First, the good parts: The dance and styling are reminiscent of popular k-pop (major K/DA + BP + IVE vibes for the girls, BTS/NCT Dream + Atz/Skz for the boys). The ridiculous variety show, yes, they exist, but not quite like the one in the movie where it feels like a mashup of Hot Ones, Japanese game shows, and Donnie and Connie more than anything. Obsessive fan culture, a bit touched upon, with the opening introduction, but didn't explore it enough, especially with the dating taboo (missed opportunity, I'd say), fans were too supportive and too positive for the Huntrix + Saja Boys thing.

So, those good things are are also the bads: the way these are portrayed seems pretty surface level, sanitized, simplified, over the top and comical. Eating carb-heavy, presumably spicy, greasy foods right before singing? Horrible idea, their voices will give out. No rehearsal and soundcheck before the concert? Unprofessional. Announcing a new single a few hours before release? Without marketing and promotion months beforehand? Holding a live show right after said sudden release? There are other kpop groups in universe, How Do They Get Their Slot in music shows with the sudden, unplanned release!?

The industry is cut-throat and competitive, which is barely shown through how Saja Boys dominated the chart and suddenly removed Huntrix from their throne. Often, idols don't have that much of a say of creative nor executive decisions. Even those with such freedom will always have to relay their decisions to the top brasses first before moving a limb. So: no, Rumi will not be able to release the song with one single click. Especially if it's Huntrix, a group single and not, say, Soundcloud Mixtape. And no, Rumi won't be able to just leave a live show without repercussions. Media will have a field day with that, and netizens will leave scathing remarks and not-unfounded criticism along with mean-spirited bullying. Plus, after the mess with the Idol Awards, their career will not be able to recover. "Public breakup" will either paint one side as evil or dunk on everyone. All in all, the portrayal of k-pop in this movie is terribly unprofessional and fantastical. How did it not get out that the girls broke into the men's baths? And how did they not get protest trucks and threatening letters when Huntrix and Saja boys were seen chummy chummy in the same fan event? Did the girls not receive any PR training at all?

Many celebrities have gone down overnight over lesser offenses: women being too thin or too fat; being spotted clubbing and smoking weed. Huntrix wouldn't survive a year. In my opinion, they could have capitalized on how cutthroat the industry is when Saja Boys are trying to topple Huntrix's top dog spot: make use of scandals and rumour mills, destroy their reputation, and usurp their throne.

It's made to be palatable for audience unfamiliar with k-pop, but made to capitalize on the name k-pop on its title, with characters, especially the girls, written to be quirky, relatable, disney princess template with not much other personality traits. Honestly, I think that even if you erase the K-pop in the title and all the gratuitious Korean vocab, names, and hanboks, and make them ambiguously-fictional-Asian instead, they will not make much difference narrative wise.

My major gripe with this movie are 1. that it's trying to reach too many audience and generalizing and simplifying everything that it ceases to be K-pop; and 2. that either the characters tell and not show (the whole everything with Rumi and Jinu, Zoey's "people pleasing" tendencies) or they don't at all (Mira's "insecurities"); that even after watching the movie, I don't understand these characters nor their motivation beyond that they sing, dance, look pretty, and #relatable. They're just vehicles for the aesthetics, and that's it.

Tldr; It's a fun show, if you ignore the k-pop in the title and watch it with no prior expectations. And the tiger is cute, horanghae shoutout 🐯

[catscraftsandcommentary]

So I had some time to think tonight at work (in between operating heavy machinery, swearing at the materials, and trying to keep the line running, fun times!) And I asked myself, "self, hypothetically, what might @inexplicifics Accidental Warlord AU look like in another generation or two - once people really get used to witchers being The Good Guys (TM) and helping out?"

And I was like "well, they'd probably get invited to social events - ooh! Who'd like which events best?!? What would that look like?"

Geralt, as we all know, detests anything too formal or Warlord-focused. He enjoys weddings and receptions, but his TRUE favorite is baby christenings. Seriously. Put him in a room with a tiny baby and he's happy as a clam. He'll happily growl away (or weaponize his puppy-dog eyes against) grannies, aunties, and other family members to hold the baby for as long as possible. He's also 90% of the reason that witchers are now rumored to be able to bless babies.

When Mouse and Treyse bring this new rumor to the council, everyone has to just sit. And process for a minute. Because what the ever-loving fuck?!? (Jaskier immediately writes the sweetest lullaby ever, "A Witcher's Blessing", and it is the ONLY song that Geralt ever sings in public, and only ever to babies and small children. Multiple women blame this for their immediate conceptions.)

Jaskier adores weddings and festivals of all types, and if a happy couple includes details of how they met and/or fell in love with their wedding invitation, there's at least a 50% chance that he'll show up to the wedding with a personalized love song, holy shit.

Ciri loves tourneys. Loves watching them, loves displaying in them, loves sneaking into competing in them (omg, heir, NO), loves WINNING them. She's a menace. She has various stealth coats of arms that she rotates between when she's not supposed to be competing, but her favorite is the battle goose. Obviously.

Eskel doesn't like crowds or being the center of attention, which are almost inevitable with public invitations, but he does enjoy being the +1 for his family. Several of his and their interests overlap, and even where they don't, he likes to see them enjoying themselves.

Yennifer becomes well-known as an extremely efficient - albeit terrifying - treaty negotiator. She'll talk to both sides, get a list of their must haves, deal-breakers, would-likes, and don't-wants (as well as - perhaps more importantly - the reason why each of those are on that particular list). Then she draws up a draft and viciously negotiates a compromise. She is genuinely surprised the first time that both sides thank her for her help.

Vesemir, with all his long years of teaching, loves visiting schools and seeing any sort of student performance or sporting event. Kindergarten to university, drama to music to dance recitals to track and field meets to football games to student symposiums to science contests to... He buys out bake sales and funds club field trips and donates several fortunes worth of antique knick knacks to various schools. He's invited as a guest lecturer, a commencement speaker, a competition judge, a referee.

Lambert and Aiden, at some point, discover bachelor's parties, call dibs, and never look back. People learn very quickly not to invite witchers to their stag nights unless they want the entire party to get horrifyingly drunk - but at least Lam and Aiden will make sure that everyone makes it home (or to the wedding) safely. Perhaps not soberly, or sans hangover, but definitely without major injury. (And if the bride asks nicely and the groom and friends weren't total jerks, Lambert can usually be counted on to make a hangover cure. He really is a softie at heart.)

Dragonfly and Serrit get tapped for the odd bachelorette party or ladies' birthday parties. Anything that falls under "I want to be able to drink and party with my friends without worrying about some strange guy hurting one of us." They are extremely protective and have both been drunkenly proposed to several times. (Livi finds this terribly amusing. Gweld just wants to know if he can watch.) Milena and Zofia sometimes go with them.

Milena loves going to wedding showers and baby showers, but outside Kaer Morhen, she has to stay in sight of Lambert or one of his brothers. Lambert's rule. (She got KIDNAPPED, okay? He's allowed to worry!) Usually she'll take Geralt (there might be babies! He's excellent protection!) or Eskel (he's very quiet and has excellent manners, and his signs are impossible to fight) for the more, ah, female-heavy events. If anyone asks, they're her brother-in-law and genuinely like spending time around kids. And very, very married.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Blue and Red

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!firefighter!reader

Summary: You are a firefighter who has a unique rivalry with Sergeant Deacon Kay. When you're injured while working together, Deacon learns why the rivalry started.

Warnings: fluff, angst, reader gets shot, Luca is smarter than Hondo, lots of teasing and playful arguments, parts of this are inspired by S.W.A.T. episode 4x7 "Under Fire"

Word Count: 2.7k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

“Well, if it isn’t the fireflies,” Hondo taunts, drawing attention to the firefighters walking in.

“Still upset we beat your team of Girl Scouts?” your captain replies.

Feeling eyes on you, you turn to the side and smile when you see him.

“Sergeant Kay,” you greet.

He says your name, taking a step toward you before asking, “Come to see what a real job looks like?”

“Actually, we were just hoping to steal some of your donuts before going over to the elementary school and inspiring the next generation.”

“Yeah, go tell a bunch of kids how much fun fire is. You must be bored.”

You press your lips together, raising your brows before turning back toward your crew.

“We’re covering for your on-call crew,” you tell Hondo.

“The city should be terrified,” Street deadpans.

“With that haircut out in public, you’re absolutely right,” someone quips.

“Still single?” Deacon asks, suddenly closer to you.

“No, I’m actually engaged to an attorney now,” you answer. “Rich guy.”

You watch Deacon, surprised to see him silent for once.

“Yes, I’m still single,” you admit, saving him from whatever thoughts were rushing through his head. “And I know you are.”

“You can’t know that.”

Turning toward him as your crew prepares to leave, you lay a hand on his chest and pout.

“You’re a cop, Deac. You never sleep at home, and you have no money; I know you’re single.”

Winking at him, you step backward before waving and following your crew back to the truck.

“Call us when you need us!” you yell, saluting Deacon.

He rolls his eyes, freezing as he sees Luca staring at him.

“What?” Deacon asks.

“Nothing, just wondering if you’re on the same page of the rivalry handbook as us.”

“They’re firefighters,” Deacon answers.

“And you’ve been tainted,” Luca says, looking at Deacon’s chest where your hand was.

“You treat her differently, too.”

“Yeah, because she’s a girl, not because I want to know if she’s single.”

“20-David, let’s roll!” Hicks yells, interrupting Deacon and Luca’s conversation.

Deacon crosses his fingers that you have a quiet day, not because he doesn’t want to see you, but because he doesn’t want you in harm’s way.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re a terrible person.”

Deacon turns around quickly, surprised to hear someone else.

“Really?” he asks, shaking his head.

“Yep,” you reply, popping the ‘p.’ “Cops are good for one thing and one thing only, but there isn’t a single donut in here.”

“You think these abs happen with donuts?”

You lower your gaze to Deacon’s stomach, smiling when he fights a squirm at your attention.

“Looks like a six-pack of donuts to me,” you answer, falling back against the couch in the S.W.A.T. common area.

“There’s donuts in the break room outside of S.W.A.T. if you really want one.”

“My captain will kill me if I eat a donut. They only keep me around for funding. Apparently, women in uniform get more donations.”

Deacon hums, and you sit up quickly, glaring at him.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just an interesting take.”

“You know what else is interesting? That you can’t beat the firefighters in the annual competition. Despite the fact that we have a higher number of female competitors.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Deacon says.

You hide your smile to storm past him and say, “Interesting take.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“No, it isn’t,” Deacon argues.

“No what isn’t?” you ask, interrupting his conversation with Hondo. “I’m bored,” you answer, replying to their unasked question of why you’re here.

Deacon shrugs before filling you in. “Hondo thinks the firefighter outreach to schools is just to give the teachers a break and encourage the kids.”

You look between Deacon and Hondo, surprised that Deacon is on your side.

“Deacon’s right,” you respond. “It’s not for the teachers in any way, it’s for the kids.”

“Most of those kids don’t become firefighters, they just like to look at the big red truck for an afternoon.”

“This morning, we went to an elementary school and there was a blind kid in one of the classes we talked to. His favorite toy is a fire truck, but he’s never seen one. So, we took him to the side, let him feel every inch of our uniforms, and then took him into the truck. His teacher said he’d never been that excited before, and when we were getting ready to leave, he hugged me and told me that he’d be a firefighter someday. And you’re right, he may not, but the smile on his face when he got to sit in a real version of his favorite toy and find out what a uniform feels like? It’s worth it, no matter the reason.”

Hondo tilts his head as he concedes.

“You’re right. I mean you’re wrong about everything because you’re a firebug but yeah, the kids are important,” he says.

Your radio turns on just as Hicks enters to call Deacon and Hondo.

“We’ve got an armored barricade at a bank,” he says.

“Meet you there. Loser buys dinner and donuts don’t count!” you yell over your shoulder as you run out.

“Firefighters,” Hondo groans under his breath while Deacon smiles at you.

✯✯✯✯✯

You are at the sight and in your turnout gear several minutes before Black Betty rolls up, stopping in front of the fire truck.

“Oh good, the boys in blue are here,” you say, your lack of enthusiasm causing your crew to laugh.

“You need to stay behind Black Betty until you’re cleared to go in,” Hondo reminds.

“Which, based on your track record, is about thirty minutes after the block is burned to a crisp,” your captain replies. “Stop telling us what we know and do your job.”

“Be careful,” you add quietly, looking at Deacon.

He nods, and you move to the back of the truck, readying your gear for entry.

When you hear a steady stream of gunfire, your breath catches. Deacon breached with Hondo and Street while the rest of his team went around the sides.

“26-David, shots fired,” Street’s voice comes through the radio.

Another shot echoes, but it sounds much closer than the first.

“That wasn’t in the bank,” you tell your captain.

“20-David this is Engine 35, there’s another shooter,” he radios.

“22-David, copy Engine 35. Shooter to the West of the bank; stay in place,” Luca responds.

Glancing toward the back of the truck, you see something move and reflect the sun on a rooftop. One of your crew members is past Black Betty's protection, and you don’t hesitate to run toward him, tackling him to the ground just as another shot rips through the air.

✯✯✯✯✯

“20-David, suspect down, code 4 and clear for entry,” Hondo says, standing behind a desk.

“Deac!” Luca yells as he enters the front door.

“25-David, second suspect down,” Tan reports.

“Where was the second shooter?” Hondo demands.

“Roof next door,” Luca answers, trying to say something to Deacon before Hondo cuts him off again.

 “Where’d he shoot?”

“I’m trying to tell you,” Luca snaps. “He got two firefighters.”

The world seems to slow around Deacon as he runs out.

✯✯✯✯✯

The gunfire in the bank continues, and you stare at the door, hoping that Deacon walks out completely unscathed. Holding a spare shirt to your side, you lean against the side of the fire truck as your crew moves everything and everyone behind Black Betty.

“We need to get her out of here,” someone says.

“Ambulance can’t get down here until we’re clear and we don’t have the supplies to safely remove a bullet,” a second voice answers.

“I’m fine,” you interject, wincing against the pain as you twist toward them. “You need to be ready to put that fire out as soon as they radio a code 4.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You blame the adrenaline for how conscious and coherent you are five minutes after getting a bullet to the abdomen. When you see Deacon running out, you sigh and slump against the truck, wanting to kiss him and slap him simultaneously: concern and anger mixing in your mind.

“Back up,” Deacon demands, shooing your crew members away and toward the small fire in the bank vault as he pulls a bag from Black Betty.

“You scared me,” you admit when he turns toward you.

His eyes are soft and scared as he looks into yours. 

“You’re scaring me too, so we’re even.”

Someone screams down the street, and Hondo and Luca detour before seeing you. Street approaches behind Deacon, and his eyes widen when he sees you.

“I need to move this,” Deacon tells you gently, pulling the shirt from your tight grasp and exposing the wound.

“Ambulance is here, Deac,” Street says, patting his shoulder gently.

Deacon nods, pressing a fresh gauze against you with more pressure than you had. You groan, and he slams his eyes shut as his jaw clenches.

“Gonna pass out,” you mutter, raising a bloody hand to lay over Deacon’s.

“Hey, no, stay with me,” Deacon demands, raising his voice when your hand slackens. “Open your eyes right now!”

You shake your head, barely visible, before the paramedics take you away from Deacon. Or try to.

“Sergeant, we got her.”

“Deacon,” Street says quietly, “Let them take her.”

Deacon stumbles back, standing as he watches them load you onto a stretcher. He nods when they tell him which hospital you’re going to, but as soon as you’re out of sight, his eyes drop to your blood all over his hands and up his sleeves.

“The other firefighter is fine, just a flesh wound,” Luca fills in. “That scream was just some kids, so we’re good.”

“Who was the other injury?” Hondo asks.

Street whispers your name, and Hondo looks at Deacon before leading him toward a nearby patrol car. 

✯✯✯✯✯

While he waits in the hospital, Deacon scrubs his hands until they hurt. The rest of his team was called away, but Hicks knew better than to ask Deacon to leave someone alone in the hospital.

“Sergeant?” a nurse asks, holding a door open. “Follow me.”

You look peaceful, asleep in the hospital bed. Deacon hates it. He doesn’t like you peaceful, he decides immediately. Teasing him, testing his patience, being mean to him, that’s how he wants you, needs you.

“The doctor will be by in a few minutes to fill you in,” the nurse says gently. “She’s a fighter.”

Deacon nods, pulling a chair beside your bed and taking your hand in his. Your fingers squeeze his just before you turn your head and open your eyes.

“Hey,” you whisper.

“Hi.”

“Why are you here? Wasn’t there another call?”

Deacon’s brows furrow, wondering how you knew that.

“The doctor said something about it before I went into surgery. Why didn’t you go?”

“I couldn’t leave you here alone.”

You smile, and though your lips are chapped, Deacon thinks you look beautiful. It hit him quickly at the bank, the realization that he needs you. Not knowing if you were okay made him feel like a piece of him was missing.

Blinking quickly, you try to focus on Deacon, but something is wrong. He notices, too, worriedly saying your name. You watch his mouth move but don’t hear anything before your eyes close, and the heart rate machine starts beeping rapidly.

Two nurses and a doctor run in, pushing Deacon back wordlessly and gathering around you so he can’t see you. He does hear the flatline, though, as he realizes he missed his chance to tell you.

“Ow,” you groan just before the nurses laugh.

Deacon’s heart seems to stop as he watches one step back.

“What was that?” he asks her.

“A pretty common reaction to one of the medicines, but when she rolled over, the IV and heart monitors were disrupted. She’s completely fine, Sergeant, just going to be a little sore,” she answers kindly.

“She owes you her life,” the doctor adds on his way out.

When you see Deacon again, you can’t tell if he’s angry or terrified. Either way, you offer a small “Sorry.”

Deacon takes a deep breath before walking to the side of the bed, his thighs hitting it as he looks directly into your eyes. He raises his hands and gently cups your cheeks, bending down toward you.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he begs, his voice rough.

“I’m sorry,” you say, leaning toward him. “But you scared me too. I heard all those shots and didn’t know.”

Deacon sighs, resting his forehead against yours. He nods before stepping back, taking his previous seat, and placing his hand over yours.

“Do you need anything?” Deacon asks.

You shake your head, asking him if everyone else is okay.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Is he holding her hand?” Hondo asks.

Your captain hums, and Hondo shakes his head.

“This changes things.”

“What are you talking about?” Luca asks with a laugh. “This changes nothing.”

“They hate each other, they’re at each other’s throats daily,” Hondo points out.

“Because they like each other. Cop/firefighter relationships bring out the schoolboy approach: bullying.”

“He’s right, Hondo,” your captain affirms. “Not surprised you didn’t catch on though, playboy.”

“Easy,” Hondo replies.

“Are we going to check on them?” Luca asks.

“Not today. She’s perfectly fine with him,” your captain promises, turning toward them. “And I’ve had a bit too much of your kind today. Enjoy having your regular team back tomorrow; God help them.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“It hurts.”

“Well, you did get shot,” Deacon says. “You want me to find a nurse?”

You shake your head, then stop moving when your eyes land on Deacon’s sleeves.

“You haven’t been home yet?”

“No. Why would I?”

“I was in surgery, you had time. You could have gone right after, too.”

Deacon looks at his sleeves, where your blood stains are a harsh reminder of the emotions Deacon experienced just a few hours earlier. As if he’s back in that moment, Deacon looks to you.

“Help me up?” you ask, interrupting him.

“You’re not supposed to,” Deacon argues.

“I need to. Please?”

Deacon hesitates but helps you sit up before pulling you to your feet, hovering right in front of you, and letting you hold his forearms.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly. “For scaring you. But thank you for staying with me. I need you.”

Unwilling to miss another opportunity, Deacon whispers, “I love you.”

You smile, but Deacon is more concerned with keeping you upright than your facial expressions.

“I keep going back to that moment when I ran out of the bank and you were just sitting there, covered in blood but watching me; you were alert and up. And as soon as you saw me, you said something, and then that light just went out.”

Deacon takes a breath to continue, but you don’t let him, tugging his forearms to bring him down to your level. He bends without thought, and you kiss him, sliding your hands up his arms to hold his shoulders. Deacon responds easily, moving against you as he moves his hands to your hips. He pushes you back against the bed so you sit. Kneeling, Deacon follows you and stays at your level. As you kiss, your worry and pain seem to disappear.

“You’re pushy,” you tease as you take a breath.

Deacon chuckles, looping an arm around the uninjured side of your waist as he leans toward you.

“But I love you,” you add quietly.

His smile grows, and Deacon kisses you quickly, his smile pressed against yours.

“Even though I never sleep at home and don’t have any money?” he repeats your earlier comment.

“I don’t either.”

“Then we’re a perfect match.”

You laugh, hiding your face in Deacon’s neck.

“The cop and the firefighter… who knew?”

Your smile falls when you sit up and look at Deacon.

“I did,” you confess. “Why do you think I teased you so much? So differently than the rest of S.W.A.T.?”

Deacon suddenly remembers every example of how you spoke to him versus Hondo or Luca; it was always a little nicer, delivered with a smile.

“You’ve known?”

“You didn’t?” you ask with a bright smile. “I guess I’ve got a lot to teach you, Blue.”

“That’s going to stick isn’t it?” Deacon grumbles, moving his hand to cup your cheek again.

“It sure is,” you answer happily. “Because I love you, Blue.”

“I love you.” Deacon’s smile grows before he adds, “Red.”

[jerzwriter]

Tobias Carrick was a natural flirt. Anyone who knows him would agree. But now that he's with Casey, flirting with others is the last thing he wants to do, but old habits die hard. Casey's a good sport, but she may have found a solution...

Book: Open Heart (Book 3 timeline) Pairing: Tobias Carrick x Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 2,468

A/N: I couldn't stop thinking about this, so I finally wrote it out just for fun. Participating in @choicesmonthlychallenge - Fire/Sparks

No one would argue that Tobias Carrick was brilliant. You don’t become one of the most respected physicians of a generation based on looks alone. He had a brain. But, oh... the man could be clueless.

If we knew that God played favorites, many would assume Tobias was one of his chosen ones. Already handsome and intelligent, he had plenty of other positive attributes, too. He was friendly, charismatic, engaging... he liked people, and in turn, people liked him. If he could do something to brighten a person’s day, you better believe he was going to do it. So, it wasn’t his fault that people could misinterpret his enthusiasm at times. Right?

But Casey MacTavish knew better.

She had watched it unfold more times than she could count: at work, on the street, at restaurants... anywhere they happened to be. I was just talking to them, he’d say, and he meant it... but once those blue eyes locked onto someone, they’d think they were the only person in the world. And if he happened to flash that ridiculously handsome grin, it was as if he let them in on his deepest secrets. The man threw compliments out as easily as a frat boy tossed beads from a balcony on Bourbon Street. It was a recipe for disaster.

Tobias was infatuated with Casey, and though he never meant any harm, plenty of strangers misread his intentions, and who could blame them? Most of the time, Casey just laughed it off. The man had no sense of his effect on people, and he had no perception of the damage left in his wake. In fact, it was amusing to watch. But every now and then, it landed him in trouble. For example...

The Cafe Calamity

His favorite café was packed one Saturday morning, so he offered to wait in line while Casey ran to the restroom. As he moved closer to the register, he could see his favorite barista was working today. Eva was a sweet, artsy-looking young woman with pale skin,  long, dark curls, and stunning tattoos. Tobias was thrilled to see her. After all, that meant the perfect cup lay ahead.

“Hey,” Eva said enthusiastically when she saw a beaming Tobias step up, his smile disarming as always.

“Eva!” He gushed, leaning his elbows on the counter. “Look at you making this place brighter! I tell everyone, you make the best damn cappuccino in the city. I don’t know what fairy dust put in it, dear, but I can’t tell you how many times it’s highlight of my day.”

Eva blushed as she tucked a curl behind her jewel-studded ear, clearly off-balance. “Oh! Um, thanks,” she beamed. “ I...I try my best.”

“Well, your best is extraordinary,”  he winked.

Casey rolled her eyes as he headed back to the counter, watching the scene unfold. The poor barista had... the look. Casey knew it well. In fact, she had worn it herself more than a few times back when she first met him. Eva had the look of someone falling headfirst into the Tobias Carrick charm trap.

Tobias continued chatting, completely oblivious, but Casey saw the barista scribble something on his cup. The young beauty bit her lip as she handed him his order. “Enjoy!” She said nervously. “And, um… my number’s on the sleeve. Just in case you ever want to grab a coffee somewhere else and check out the competition.”

Tobias blinked as Casey approached, gently looping her arm in his. He looked nervously between the two women before sputtering out, “Oh. “Oh no. No... I...uh...didn’t mean... I’m so, so sorry, I wasn’t...I didn’t...”

Eva’s eyes went wide, partly embarrassment, partly afraid, but Casey was quick to put her at ease. “Don’t worry,” she smiled. “He has no idea what impact he has on people. But he has told me how great your coffee is, and I’m so glad I get to try it myself.”

Eva thanked her, quickly slinking away as Casey steered Tobias toward the exit. The second the door closed behind them, Tobias blurt out. “Babe, I was just being nice! I swear. I didn’t...”

“Relax,” Casey laughed. “You were just being you. I swear, you should come with a warning label.”

Breaking the Gym Bro

About a week later, Casey saw it happening again, but she wasn’t about to step in. She made a beeline to the reception desk, where Mary, a trainer she and Tobias knew, was standing. “Mary,” Casey said gleefully. “Break out the popcorn; this is about to be fun!”

Tall, built, and always a bit too serious, Dante was a new member of the gym. He was new to Boston and hadn’t gotten to know anyone yet, and Tobias was intent on changing that.

He walked over and offered to spot him, and Dante accepted. So far, so good. But Tobias was too excited about making a new friend. He encouraged him enthusiastically, complimenting his form, patting his shoulder, and never losing that alluring smile.

Once again, Casey saw the transformation from across the room. Dante’s nervous laughter, the ‘Oh no, is he into me?’ look spreading on the poor man’s face. But, oblivious, Tobias just kept on going.

This continued for several more sets until Dante cleared his throat. “Hey, uh, I appreciate you spotting me and all,” he muttered. “But, I should let you know, I have a boyfriend.”

Tobias was confused. “Yeah? Cool. That’s cool, man.”

“No, I mean, I have a boyfriend... we’re committed...”

Casey bit her lip, trying not to laugh, when she saw that familiar look land on Tobias’s face.

“Oh! Oh, no. No, no, no. Dude, I wasn’t implying... I mean, not that you’re not... you’re very...” Tobias exhaled. “I just wanted to help you and welcome you to the gym. Seriously. I have a girlfriend.” His eyes searched the gym, smiling when he spotted Casey. “She’s right over there! That’s her.”

Relieved, Dante apologized for misreading the situation, but Casey and Mary were clearly amused.

“That was painful,” Tobias groaned, joining their conversation.

“For you? Very,” Mary grinned. “But for us? It was hilarious.”

“Yeah, keep laughing,” Tobias smirked as Casey planted a quick kiss on his cheek.

“My guy doesn’t realize his powers,” Casey chuckled.

“We could always put up signs,” Mary shrugged. “Welcome to Back Bay Fitness! You may see this man on the premises. He’s a notorious flirt but harmless. Interact with him at your own risk. The gym accepts no responsibility.”

“Very funny,” Tobias replied, unaware Dante was approaching him from behind.

“You know, that isn’t the worst idea,” he laughed, patting Tobias’s back as he left. Casey’s day was complete.

But it wasn’t always fun and games...

Mixer Mayhem

It wasn’t exactly a work event, but it wasn’t exactly not one either. A group of colleagues from Mass Kenmore and Edenbrook hospitals were meeting up at The Fed, a stately bar in the Langham Hotel, for a mixer. Still new in her career, Casey had never attended one of these events before, but Tobias was determined to change that.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “I know it’s great for networking, but The Fed...”

“What’s wrong with The Fed?” He asked. “It’s a nice place. Popular with the doctor set.”

“No,” Casey scoffed. “Popular with the established and wealthy doctor set. Tell me the last time you saw a struggling resident cozy up to the bar.”

“Got me,” he said, undeterred. “But come! You’ll be my guest, and trust me, you’re smarter than half the people there. You’ll more than fit in. It’ll be fun!”

“I don’t know...” she hawed.

“Please?” he asked. The puppy-dog look in his eyes weakening her resolve. “Come on, if nothing else, I get to show off my gorgeous girlfriend.”

“Oh, she’s going to be there?” Casey winked.

“She will be if you’re coming.” And with that, she agreed next Thursday night, 7:00 PM. She’d be there.

But as is often the case with medical residents, things happened. I can still make it, she texted, but with the backup in the ER, it’s looking closer to 9 than 7. Tobias assured her that they’d still be there and he’d be waiting for her.  

He was leaning against the bar when she finally arrived, decked out in one of his most alluring designer suits. Already several drinks in, he had been holding court for hours -  telling stories that kept all wrapt in attention. He was impressive without even trying, but some were more impressed than others, and Dr. Rebecca Hastings was firmly among the former.

Rebecca wasn’t a regular. She was visiting Kenmore from Northwestern Medical Center in Chicago and hadn’t made Tobias’s acquaintance until tonight, but was she ever glad that she did. A little older, renowned in her field, and a classic beauty... like Tobias, she was someone impossible to ignore, someone people gravitated toward.

Their conversation began when he complimented her research, deservedly so. It had been the talk of the AMA convention he attended the month before. Eventually, the discussion segued into the personal – his trip to Chicago years before and how she was enjoying her stay in Boston. Tobias was his usual self – attentive, charming, and making little quips that were completely innocent to him, but Rebecca saw things differently. She had just finished her third Aperol Spritz and decided to make her next move... just as Casey arrived.

Again, Tobias was oblivious, but Casey could see it the moment she walked in. The way the stranger was staring at him, her hand flirtatiously playing with her necklace as they talked. The way her head flicked back when she laughed, only to return a smidge too close upon her return... it was clear as day.

Casey crossed the room, not angry but annoyed. She was within earshot when Rebecca decided to shoot her shot. Watching her hand land on Tobias’s arm as she whispered, “I’m about to head to my suite – 309 – if you’re interested in continuing our conversation there.”

Tobias nearly choked on his whiskey. Recovering, he wiped his lip and placed his glass back on the bar. He was about to respond when....

“Tobias.”

Casey. He turned and saw her; despite the awkward situation, she still managed to take his breath away. The emerald green dress they purchased together accentuated every one of her curves, leaving him tongue-tied, giving Rebecca a chance to chime in before Tobias could recover.

“I’m sorry, young lady, but Dr. Carrick and I are speaking...”

Tobias flinched nervously for a moment but recovered quickly. “Casey,” he beamed, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Baby, I’m so glad you’re finally here!”

“Mmm-hmm,” she hummed, extending a hand to Rebecca. “I’m Dr. Casey MacTavish. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Rebecca’s face fell. “You have a girlfriend?” she scoffed.

“Honestly, she’s more like my fiance,” he said, abashed. “But yeah. I’m... I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression... I... I really didn’t mean to....”

“Whatever,” Rebecca huffed, shooting both a snide look as she stepped away. Tobias turned to Casey, who was staring at him, her arms crossed. “Well, you sure fucked up her night,” she smirked.

“Baby,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, you know I didn’t...”

Casey heaved out a sigh, then pulled him close. She could feel his relief. “I know, baby,” she said. “I trust  you, but I have to admit...this is getting old.”

“I don’t know what to do,” he said. “I just talk to people... try to be nice...”

“It’s just... you! You and those damn blue eyes, and that sexy freaking smile...”

“I thought you liked them,” he teased.

“I do!” she insisted, but they make everyone feel so... seen, too seen.”

“But that’s just me,” he said. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I know,” Casey grinned. “But I’m getting a warning label for you!”

One Last Time

Tobias was prepping dinner in the kitchen when Casey showed up after a day of shopping. “There you are,” he grinned, wiping his hands on a towel to embrace her. “You were gone too long.”

“I was gone two hours,” she giggled in his embrace.

“As I said... too long. Buy anything good?” he asked.

“As a matter of fact,” she smirked. “I did. I got you a warning label.”

“What?” He nearly bent over with laughter when Casey pulled out a white baseball and placed it on his head.

“Look!” she said, leading him to a nearby mirror, and there it was, emblazoned in bold, black letters: NOT FLIRTING. Just hot and talking.

Tobias shook his head. “You’re not serious.”

“Oh, I’m serious! Sorry, babe. Until you learn how to reel it in, this is for the betterment of humankind... consider it a PSA.”

“You’re so dramatic,” he teased, adjusting the brim. “But, honestly, it’s probably the worst idea!”

But karma? Karma was swift.

After perusing the shelves of a local bookstore the following day, Casey headed to the register, where the cute, brown-eyed clerk began chatting as he rang up her books. He complimented the mystery novel she selected, and that led to a conversation. Casey was friendly, laughing at his jokes and complementing his excellent taste in literature. Then, it happened...

He hesitated before handing her the receipt, but mustering up his nerve, he smiled. “Uh, I’m getting off of work in twenty minutes... if you’re interested... I’d love to treat you to coffee at the shop across the street. Perhaps we could recommend other books to each other.”

Casey immediately blushed, her eyes wide. “Oh, oh, that’s very kind of you, but I.. I didn’t mean....”

“Did you get that book you wanted, babe,” a far too cocky Tobias called out from several feet away. Stepping forward, he placed his hand on her hip and a kiss on her cheek.

“Uh, yeah. I did,” she said, with a nervous grin, mouthing sorry to the clerk.

The second the store door closed behind them, Tobias turned to her with a knowing grin.

“I hate you,” she groaned.

“Why,” he chuckled, pulling her closer. “Because you had the same... affliction... as me?”

“I do not!” She insisted, but Tobias wasn’t letting her off the hook.

“Oh, really? Should we go back and ask your bookstore admirer about that? Or maybe cocktail waitress from the bar we went to in the Seaport or the new surgical resident you were telling me about...”

“All right! All right!” She surrendered, bumping him with her hip. “You win.”

“Damn right I do,” he grinned. “I’ve got you! Now, babe, where’d you buy that hat? We should probably swing by and get one for you... maybe in pink?”  

“Fine,” she demurred. “Tobias, we’re a menace to society.”

“Absolutely, my love,” he enthused. “Absofuckingloutely. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

@openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

[simssimons]

The Sims 4 - Olympians Gods Legacy Challenge

Based on the famous “Not So Berry” Legacy Challenge, the Olympian Gods Legacy Challenge follows an offspring where each generation is based on one of the Olympian gods from Greek Mythology. Each generation will have to complete careers, skills or goals based on myths of the gods in Greek mythology.

General Rules (Rules for all generations):

With the exception of the 'Hera' and 'Artemis' generations, each generation can be made with any gender

'freerealestate' will be allowed in the first house, after that avoid cheats

It is interesting that each generation has an object that refers to the generation's patron god.

It is not mandatory to use the name of the patron god as the name of the sim

Feel free to adapt the challenge to whatever you think works best, the goal is just to be fun

Generation I: Zeus

“Zeus was considered the god of the heavens, lightning and thunder. He was the most powerful god in the Greek pantheon, ruling over men and gods from Mount Olympus.”

You always heard that he was born to be someone important or great. Even when you tried to avoid it, he was placed in leadership positions and thus graduated from school with the best grades, being the valedictorian of his class and accepted into any college he wanted. You grew up having everyone's attention and sometimes climbing mountains to escape the feeling of being watched all the time, with the rarefied air helping to ease your mind. You hate corruption and dishonesty… at least when it's not about your marriage.

Teenage Aspiration: Goal Oriented (Teenager Optional)

Aspiration: Lineage of Success

Career: Business (Management)

Traits: Self-Absorbed, High Maintenance and Ambitious

Goals:

Complete the Career

Complete the Aspiration

Maximize Research & Debate Skill

Maximize Rock Climbing skill

Maximize Entepreneur

Have at least three children with different parents

Marry more than once

Having an extramarital relationship

Have at least one daughter (for the next generation)

Generation II: Hera

“Hera was known as the queen of the gods, as she was married to Zeus, the most powerful god in the Greek pantheon. She was the goddess of women, marriage and protector of pregnant women.”

You watched your father/mother having relationships with several different people besides your mother/father and you hated keeping this secret so as not to destroy your family. You hate cheating more than anything and promised that you would get revenge on any man who cheated on their wives.

Aspiration: Super Parent

Career: Lawyer (Judge)

Traits: Jealous, Family-Oriented and Paranoid

Goals:

Complete the Career

Complete the Aspiration

Maximize Parenting skill

Maximize Cross-Stitch

Marry only once

Having a bad relationship with half-siblings

Have a severe relationship with all children

Generation III: Poseidon

“Poseidon was one of the religious deities of the Greeks in Antiquity. The Greeks had him as the god of the seas and rivers, as well as being responsible for catastrophic events, such as floods and earthquakes.”

You grew up under the wings of a super controlling mother and couldn't wait for the time when you could just leave home and live your own life. The emotion you had when you were at sea or when riding on a horse are and have always been the most liberating moments for you.

Aspiration: Beach Life

Career: Conservationist (Marine Biologist)

Traits: Horse Lover, Son of the Ocean and Hot-Headed

Goals:

Complete Career

Complete Aspiration

Maximize Riding Skill

Maximize Fishing skill

Have a horse

Win at least one riding competition

Finding Sulani’s ‘Buried Treasures’

Marry a Mermaid

Become a Mermaid (optional)

Generation IV: Athena

“Athena was the Greek goddess of wisdom, and also considered the goddess of war, whose strategic side was associated with her. She was Zeus's favorite daughter. Athena was the goddess of wisdom to the ancient Greeks and the favorite daughter of Zeus.”

While your father/mother went to the beach with your brothers or learned about horses, you stayed in your room with your mind immersed in books, seeking more and more knowledge. It seemed like the more you knew, the more you wanted to know and you just didn't know when it would be enough to stop learning.

Aspiration: Renaissance Sim

Career: Player's Choice

Traits: Bookworm, Genius and Erratic

Goals:

Complete Aspiration

Maximize Logic skill

Maximize Knitting skill

Maximize another mental or creative skill (player's choice)

Being part of the Chess Club as a teenager

Graduate from college at least once

Being A grade student in elementary and high school

Generation V: Ares

“Ares was the Greek god of war, directly related to the most violent aspect of battles, such as bloodshed. Ares was not a popular god among the Greeks and was seen as a temperamental god, although he was thought to be courageous.”

Your mother always pushed books and books for you to read and study, but the only thing you could think about was what it would be like to train, go to the gym and do things like fun. The excitement he felt when getting into fights and even more so winning fights. How sweet it feels to destroy enemies, opponents or anything that gets in your way.

Aspiration: Bodybuilder

Career: Military (Officer)

Traits: Mean, Adventurous and Self-Assured

Goals:

Complete Career

Complete Aspiration

Maximize Fitness skill

Have bad reputation

Win at least 5 fights with different sims

Become a werewolf (optional)

Generation VI: Demeter

“Demeter is the Greek goddess of the harvest, fertility, cultivated land, sacred law and holds the cycle of life and death. She revealed agriculture to human beings and guided the cultivation of corn and wheat. Therefore, she is also known as the goddess of agriculture."

Tired of the almost wild life you led because of your father/mother, you just wanted peace and tranquility. You have always liked plants and the nature around you, having escaped to the forest a few times just to breathe fresh air and be surrounded by greenery. Now you can finally have your dream life away from the turmoil of your family.

Aspiration: Field Caretaker

Career: Social Designer (Green Technique)

Traits: Vegetarian, Good and Gloomy

Goals:

Complete Career

Complete Aspiration

Maximize Gardening Skill

Maximize Flower Arranging Skill

Maximize Herbalism Skill

Have a strong friendship with Flower Bunny

Have a strong friendship with Father Winter

Generation VII: Apollo

“Apollo was one of the most important gods of Ancient Greece, being known as the god of the Sun, of arts, music, prophecy, medicine, etc. He was the son of Zeus and Leto and was known for his beauty and for being an excellent archer.”

Your mother/father always encouraged your talent in art, saying how beautiful your voice is and how quickly you were able to learn to play instruments. You have always enjoyed helping people, whether through your music or learning about the medicinal herbs your mother used. You decided that one day you would become a great doctor so that people could be cured and they could continue their happy lives.

Aspiration: Musical Genius

Career: Doctor

Traits: Practice Makes Perfect, Music Lover and Childish

Goals:

Complete Career

Complete Aspiration

Maximize Guitar or Violin skill

Maximize Piano Skill

Maximize Singing Skill

Having two bad romantic relationships

Have a daughter (for the next generation)

Generation VIII: Artemis

“Artemis was a deity in Greek mythology known as the goddess of hunting, nature and chastity, as well as being the protector of women, children and births.”

Your father/mother was always a bright, happy and lively person, which was different from you. Not that you are quiet and gloomy, but you like silence, tranquility and solitude more. You have always enjoyed being outdoors, practicing outdoor athletic activities and not even the weather stopped you from living your life. As soon as you became an adult and had money, you moved to the furthest place from people you could find. But the neighborhood kids kept coming to your house and you instinctively protected and guided them. They started looking for you to ask questions and for advice, that's when you realized you could guide the children to a better life.

Recommendation: Isolated lots of Sulani or Henford-on-Bagley

Aspiration: Outdoor Enthusiast

Career: Educator (Master Educator)

Traits: Unflirty, Loves Outdoors, and Lonely

Goals:

Complete Career

Complete Aspiration

Maximize Painting skill

Maximize Cooking skill

Go camping at least once

Not getting married or getting pregnant

Adopting a child or having a science baby

Generation IX: Hephaestus

“Hephaestus was a religious deity of the ancient Greeks, being considered the god of fire and metallurgy. He was well known for being ugly and lame. Hephaestus was the Greek god of fire, metallurgy and volcanoes.”

Your mother always encouraged manual work and you ended up falling in love with creating and programming your own things. But since your mother never encouraged connections with other people, you didn't really know how to make friends and talk to other people, which made you bury yourself in the mechanics.

Aspiration: Nerd Brain

Career: Engineering (Mechanics)

Traits: Creative, Socially Awkward and Recycle Disciple

Goals:

Complete Career

Complete Aspiration

Maximize Handiness skill

Maximize Aerospace Science skill

Maximize Robotic skill

Have a SERVUS

Generation X: Aphrodite

“Aphrodite was a deity present in the religion of the ancient Greeks, recognized as the goddess of love, beauty, desire and fertility. The Greeks believed that she was born in Cyprus, and her birth received two versions, one from Hesiod and the other from Homer.”

Your father/mother didn't want you to have social difficulties like him/her, so he encouraged you to join clubs and make friends. Fortunately, you have always had an easy time talking to and getting to know people, perhaps being extremely handsome made people much more willing to talk to you and sometimes even get you favors.

Aspiration: Serial Romance

Career: Actor/Actress

Traits: Romantic, Extroverted and Clueless

Goals:

Complete Career

Complete Aspiration

Maximize Charisma skill

Maximize Acting skill

Maximize Gemology

Be World Famous Star

Generation XI: Hermes

“Hermes was the god of commerce, wealth, luck, thieves, diplomacy, travel. He was the son of Zeus and a nymph named Maia. He was known for committing petty theft, as in the case of the theft of Apollo's cattle.”

Being the son/daughter of a figure as famous as your mother/father was not easy, especially when you love taking what is not exactly yours. Since childhood, you always liked playing tricks on people and sometimes touching other people's property, not because you wanted it, just because you could do it.

Aspiration: Native in the City

Career: Criminal (Boss)

Traits: Kleptomaniac, Active and Bro

Goals:

Complete Aspiration

Complete Career

Maximize Mischief skill

Maximize Charisma skill

Steal at least one item from all lots (home and community) in the neighborhood your Sim lives in

Get secrets from at least 6 different Sims

Generation XII: Dionysus

“Dionysus was the god of wine, parties, joy, theater. He was the son of Zeus and a mortal woman named Semele. He was the only demigod to be transformed into a god in Greek mythology. Their worship rituals were marked by the consumption of wine and the holding of orgies.”

You didn't have the best father/mother, after all he/she was always busy with work, stealing and secrets, common things for a father/mother. And like any teenager who is often alone at home, you always invited your friends to spend the day with you and it evolved until they started to become parties and you ended up being known for having the most legendary parties in the city.

Aspiration: Great Party Goer

Career: Entertainment (Comedian)

Traits: Big Party, Relaxed and Gastronome

Goals:

Complete Career

Complete Aspiration

Maximize Mixology skill

Maximize Nectar Production skill

Maximize Comedy Skill

[hardworkandguts]

Weekly Catch-up #4

"This Tumblr is just something I do for fun", I say, while scheduling the first of the two posts for Halloween. Confirming I've dropped Your Forma from these weekly posts because it's a show I was struggling to follow (given the whole "skip the introductory part") but I'm still going back to it once it's completed.

(previous week, next week)

What was on?

The Apothecary Diaries

(ep 2.17) Well, this clears up who is the bug girl and why she appeared a bit out of nowhere. It's still hard to say what to say what are their plans and where Maomao fits in them, other than knowing she's the daughter of Lakan and that Jinshi often relies on her to figure out something weird he knows it's going on but he can't by himself, like why wouldn't the women at the clinic, many who have been in the palace for decades, wouldn't have remembered why the lead skin powder was bad.

Witch Watch

(ep 4) after a full episode introducing Kanshi, we get a three part episode, starting with Nico's homeroom teacher discovering Kukumi is her favourite doujin artist and being extremely normal about that, second about the ill-advised idea of asking Nico to help out with something with magic (well, it did work), and finally we're introduced to Nemu Miyao, a shape shifting (into what, look at the name) witch who wants to make Morihito his familiar but is too shy to even talk with him and absentmindedly follows them home. The kind of character this kind of show gets a ton of mileage from, then.

Food For The Soul

(ep 4) Oh, a surprise fifth girl. She's Nana, a friend of the three that were unsuccessfully trying to start the club, and she didn't initially join because she was trying to start her own club. Thing is, she's even more socially anxious than Mako is and can't even talk with people she doesn't know, which of course makes it impossible for her to do it even after her makeover, and for great comedy when both are together. By the end they bond over souvlaki (the kind you grill, not the one you need guitar pedals for), but I'm sure it's not the last we'll see of that. Maybe my favourite episode so far, and Nana being a great source for reaction images plays into that? Yeah maybe. Also love how they snuck her in the ED.

mono Weekend Animation

(ep 4) on to the cinephoto club, it's a two part episode, first where Kako convinces Haruno to go for a wine tasting (or an all you can drink, your call) and the second where Haruno gets the girls to do a Photorally that unknown to them is also an eating competition. The episode is a bit lighter on the photography side of it, heavy on the tourism promotion side, but one I was ultimately a bit "heh" overall, although we got drunk Haruno.

Kowloon Generic Romance

(ep 5) Uh, well, that surely was a cliffhanger that went nowhere. While it may have been a joke, there's one person for whom it certainly wasn't, and Youmei certainly has her eyes on what Kudou is up to. What is true, however, is that we finally discover the reasons for her plastic surgery as we see what she was up to in her previous life, which I understand might be a weird choice of words for this situation we haven't fully figured out, and puts her talking to Kujirai to just be herself in a different light.

Uchuujin MuuMuu

(ep 4) I've been saying I wanted this to get weird, and it's a small step in the right direction. Carrying on from the giant electrical bill Sakurako got, she's working in the club for meal tickets, where we get to see MuuMuu channelling the Pyramid Power his civilisation mastered (not that he knows how) to turn a battery extra spicy and blowing up on his face. Second story is about the club president trying to impress a girl who's having smartphone battery problems, and after embarrassing himself with the worst analogy possible for USB ports, now has a device that uses a bunch of microwaves to charge her phone at s distance. On this week: opening small appliances, putting a new motor on a milk frother, and how wireless charging works. Could have used one on how to replace my smartphone battery.

Gundam Door Buzzer

(ep 4) Well, this was one of those cases I really don't know if my lackluster knowledge of Gundam is setting me back. Is Shiiko a character from any of the other shows, or is her "Witch" moniker just a reference to the previous Gundam, and she kinda looks like Mirai? Either way, she's in town to beat the Red Gundam, who killed her Mav during the war and wants to settle the score in a clan battle. As how it goes for her, well, that's true Gundam 0079 behaviour, letting your desire for revenge get in the way of surviving, the Gundam RX-78 just has that effect on people. And traumatising Machu, because that's also another thing they do to you.

Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle

(ch 397, 398) So, we get a very good single story that starts with Zeus and M.O.T.H.E.R. having leg cramps, and you can guess what happens next from the image, and a new arc where the Cursed Musician's mother signed him up for an idol audition which he didn't want to go, but as the Demon King wants to send someone to spy on where it is taking place, of course he goes there with Syalis and the nudist, always a fun combo.

Tis Time for "Torture", Princess

(ch 268) Oh, the princess trying to sneakily get one up on Tortura, who gets legitimately annoyed at her for wasting food. Another one for the "I want to see this animated" pile. And speaking of...

In Other News:

Tis Time for "Torture", Princess season 2 confirmed for the Winter 2026 season (via).

In case you missed it, the Rose of Versailles movie is now available on Netflix. A decent effort but severely harmed by the time they had to tell the story.

[justinssportscorner]

Trans Up Front IL:

Full disclosure: I am not a sports person. I was never interested in sports as a child and the thought of running for fun gives me cold sweats. I have no vested interest in being able to play sports aligning with my gender. As the current Boogeyman for the Republican party, trans people have been the target of an attack campaign. From campaign ads targeting transgender people and the Democrat’s support of human rights regardless of gender identity. Once they were in office on a federal level (because this was already happening in many states), they started attacking access to gender affirming care for trans youth, then went after the right to accurate federal identification documents, and now the concentration is on transgender people in sports. More specifically trans girls and women, ignoring the presence of trans men and boys and non-binary people all-together. The current portrayal of trans people in sports is often one where a trans woman is infiltrating a space for cis women in order to either prey upon them or to steal their spotlight. Both of which could not be further from the truth. When cis men want to prey upon women and girls, they simply do it, without going through the lengthy and stigmatizing process of transitioning to female. Pay differences between men’s and women’s sports In professional sports, there is a massive pay disparity between male and female athletes, with women often making 1%-50% of their male counterparts (source). The exception being gymnastics where women do make more than men, but by a much smaller margin. Aside from pay, there is much less prestige associated with women’s sports. Approximately 66% of US sports fans watch more men’s sports while only 3% watch more women’s sports (source). The screen time given to women’s sports is also significantly lower than men’s sports, including less recaps and reporting of scores after the event. To argue that someone would go through the lengthy and consuming process of changing their gender (including taking on all of the stigma associated with being transgender) in order to make significantly less, be seen less, and have less overall prestige contradicts the right-wing narrative that able-bodied elite male competitors are changing their gender in order to dominate in women’s sports.

The effects of HRT on the body

Another right-wing narrative portrays men as always having a genetic and bodily advantage over women in sports. While offensive for so many reasons, this argument also ignores the impact of transitioning and HRT on the body. First, men are not inherently better than women at sports just by being assigned male at birth. In fact, there are several sports where women consistently out-perform men (source). There are also ample stories of men who have challenged female pro-athletes and have lost (example). Generally speaking, cis male athletes have higher testosterone levels, which can lead to higher muscle mass, hemoglobin, and a higher level of competitiveness (source and source). For trans women who are undergoing Hormone Replacement Therapy (HRT), these differences are negated. Their hormonal balance resembles that of cis women, their muscle mass decreases, and their fat redistributes (source). Many sports organizations such as the International Olympic Committee, NCAA, and others, already have processes set up to test hormone levels in trans women in order for them to compete in women’s sports (source). There is no correlating policy for cis women beyond existing testing for steroids or other performance enhancing drugs. There are several stories of trans women who had previously competed in men’s sports prior to transitioning. Like Laurel Hubbard, who prior to transitioning had set several men’s weightlifting records in her home country of New Zealand. After transitioning, she competed in the 2020 Summer Olympics in Tokyo, but did not advance after failing three attempted lifts (source).

The other side of the trans coin

The discussion around trans people in sports (and bathrooms) has largely ignored the existence of trans men and other trans masculine identities. The argument that an athlete should be limited based on their assigned gender at birth would push trans masculine people into women’s sports, including trans men who have been taking HRT testosterone for years. By these arguments, the transgender male boxer, Patricio Manuel, should be boxing against women despite having had a 3-0 record of wins in fights against cis men (source). Also, Chris Mosier, who had won a spot in Team USA spring duathlon men's team for the 2016 World Championship, would be competing in women’s sports as well (source).

Impact

While the actual number of trans professional athletes is notably small (less than 10 out of 500,000 identified in NCAA level athletics for example, source), the impact of anti-trans legislation in sports is much larger. The Executive Order and current proposed legislation uses protection of cis women in sports as an excuse to further limit access to facilities for trans women and girls. This means spaces like bathrooms and locker rooms would be limited based on sex assigned at birth, in contradiction to many existing state laws which protect those spaces for trans people and many interpretations of Title IX protections.

[...]

What's next?

We already see over-generalization occurring when Executive Orders and legislation against trans women in sports also limits their access to locker rooms which then impacts young trans children in school who are ostracized from their class when changing for gym. We are also seeing cis women being followed into locker rooms and bathrooms and being harassed because of emboldened anti-trans sentiment. Hate groups are using the executive order and anti-trans legislation to harass transgender people including students in schools. When we allow access to be limited in one area based on assigned gender at birth, we also open up the door for further discrimination. The narrative that women are weak and need protecting has consequences, including continued misogynistic legislation controlling the movements and activities of women.

TransUpFront IL wrote a solid article on why trans people belong in sports competitions aligned with their gender identity.

[a-chip-in-inosukes-nichirin]

Upper Moon Demons at the Gym

I did the Hashira already, but I wanted to explore the upper moons (plus Muzan and a few of the lower moons). If y'all wanna see the other characters (Tanjiro, Nezuko, Zenitsu, Inosuke, Genya, Tamayo, Yuichiro, etc.) let me know.

Lower Moons + Muzan

Enmu:

Does an astonishing amount of leg workouts. Only wears bulky/baggy clothing. Says milk is better than protein shakes. Will hang around the gym to gawk at other's workouts. Confuses everyone at the gym with weird personal questions while they're in the middle of sets.

Rui:

Refuses to go to the gym. If he does get dragged there by his family, he sits and watches videos on his phone. If there is a pool, he can be convinced to swim, but only in the shallow end. He will take pictures of people to make fun of them. He's been banned from one gym for this.

Muzan:

Takes private fencing lessons and only works out in the privacy of his own home as he thinks the gym is unsanitary. Will try any and every protein shake and pre-workout, obsessed with staying fit and young-looking. Takes every supplement known to man. Wears joggers and muscle shirts. Hates sweating and mostly just walks a lot on his treadmill at home, despite having several other pieces of gym equipment.

Upper Moons

Kokushibo:

Wears a sweatshirt and joggers at all times, never seems to sweat even when he is exerting himself. He prefers extracurriculars such as akido and karate but goes to the gym to supplement his classes. Thinks pre-workout and protein shakes are scams.

Douma:

Only works out enough to stay physically fit and attractive. Will make unnecessary comments to people at the gym, especially women. He always seems to weasel his way back into gyms after getting kicked out because of his smooth tongue. He spends a lot of time lounging around in the tightest shirts he can buy. Has been sponsored by workout brands for clothing and supplements for his charisma and pretty eyes. There is usually a spike in sales after Douma does a commercial or ad, so he's a highly coveted model.

Akaza:

Does a lot of calisthenics and weights. He will also sprint on treadmills but focuses on building upper and lower body muscle groups. Can do more pull-ups than any of the moons. Wears wife beaters and joggers, basketball shorts if he's going to be running on the treadmills. He's generally a good gym goer but tends to challenge other gym goers to competitions. Kyojuro is the only one who has kept up with him in a challenge. Akaza lives off of pre-workout and protein shakes. He is responsible for getting Douma kicked out of a couple gyms, and vice versa- neither of them can attend the same gym without it coming to a head eventually.

Hantengu:

Hantengu- is an old man who will go to the gym to stare at girls doing squats. He doesn't do much else, except biking on occasion.

Sekido- has gotten in trouble for slamming weights and yelling at his brothers in the gym. He spends most of his time with dumbbells and on the bench-pressing weights while grunting loudly. Only drinks pre-workout, and probably hasn't had a proper glass of water since starting at the gym. He will drag his brothers to the gym and then complain about them being there.

Karaku- is pretty well rounded at the gym, trying out new things and never really sticking to a specific plan. As long as he feels sore by the end, he doesn't care to target anything specific. He will loudly talk and conversate with other gym-goers, and there are actually a few gym employees who like chatting with him. Will eat or drink anything given to him.

Urogi- likes to do parkour and tends to enjoy cardio more than his brothers. He will also attempt to talk to other gym goers but will also nit-pick the way they workout while giving somewhat backhanded compliments. Likes pre-workout but will not drink protein shakes. Wears loose clothing like basketball shorts and oversized t-shirts.

Aizetsu- hates going to the gym and is always asking when they are leaving. He wears oversized hoodies and sweatpants, and exclusively does ellipticals and biking. He will do stretching if no one else is around. Strictly drinks water and tries to never make eye contact with anyone at the gym.

Zohakuten- Gets dragged along with his brothers to the gym even though he hates going. Thinks all of the women there are skanks no matter how they are dressed and makes no attempt to hide his contempt for others. He made a comment on Mitsuri at one point which mysteriously resulted in him accidentally eating a snack that contained peanuts and having an allergic reaction (they never found the culprit, but others have suspicions about a certain black-haired man who wears masks to the gym).

Gyokko:

Wears the weirdest clothes to the gym and is constantly muttering or having full-on conversations with himself/at people about art and the human body. He does very little exercise, stating he mainly comes to the gym for inspiration in his art. He hasn't caused any major trouble, so he hasn't been banned or kicked out, but people tend to avoid him at all costs as he gives a lot of them the creeps- men and women alike.

Daki:

She, like Mitsuri, wears cute matching sets to the gym, but they tend to be more revealing. Daki has also gotten a lot of modeling and ad contracts for workout brands, although her modeling career extends beyond the gym. Daki has been asked out no less than seventeen times while at the gym, all of which she declined. She spends a lot of time preening in the mirrors between sets, and judging people both in her head and out loud. She only drinks protein shakes that are sweet and makes Gyutaro mix them up for her.

Gyutaro:

He only attends the gym because Daki goes. His crippling self-esteem issues force him to wear dark oversized and baggy clothing. Gyutaro sticks to any machines that are inconspicuous and don't draw attention to himself. He has never once slammed his plates, afraid that it will make people look at him. The only time he is okay with people seeing him is when Daki is dealing with a persistent admirer, and she needs him to act as a physical barrier and guard dog. He will only drink energy drinks.

[whirlpool-blogs]

The NHL can thank women’s hockey for molding its top prospect into Barry Sanders on skates

June 19, 2019

His former coach calls it a “force field.” When Jack Hughes skates with the puck, the potential top pick in this week’s NHL draft has a way of darting in and out, feinting side to side to keep defenders just out of stick’s reach, as if they’re blocked by some imaginary bubble.

“If fans remember Barry Sanders,” says John Wroblewski, coach of the U.S. National Team Development Program, “he could move laterally, and then he’s at full speed again. Or in basketball, the way Michael Jordan could get guys to stop on a dime. The quickness and slashing and deception — Jack is truly turning on the ice as well as anyone I’ve ever seen.”

This ability to shift and shoot at full speed is part of what has made the hockey world anticipate Hughes’s draft-night moment for years. The 5-foot-10, 18-year-old forward seems destined to be a cornerstone for the New Jersey Devils or New York Rangers, depending on whether he goes first or second when the draft begins Friday, but either way he will be front and center in a major media market. Hughes is hockey’s Zion Williamson, with confidence to match.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt overwhelmed on an ice rink,” he says.

So then the question for Hughes is: Who taught you to skate?

His answer is as quick as his wrist shot: “It was my mom.”

Hughes has a first-round draft pick in older brother Quinn (now with Vancouver), a potential NHLer in little brother Luke and a title-winning coach in father Jim, so his story is truly a family affair. But his mom’s influence is central to the tale.

Ellen Hughes played with the U.S. women’s national hockey team in the early 1990s, and she played soccer against some of the members of the 1999 World Cup champions. (She once roomed with Brandi Chastain at a youth camp.) Jack’s success is as much of a tribute to his mother as to anyone in the men’s game. He is hardly the first hockey star to be influenced by a decorated mom — Alex Ovechkin’s mother, for example, is a two-time gold medalist in basketball — but Hughes is a men’s player who has benefited from the Title IX generation. In that sense, he is part of an emerging chapter in American sports.

Jack was born in Orlando in May 2001, and 10 days later Ellen was on a plane to Oklahoma to work as a reporter for ESPN at the Women’s College World Series. Broadcasting was the capstone to a fabled athletic career that earned her a spot in the University of New Hampshire Hall of Fame and took her to the sidelines to report on the U.S. team during its 1999 Women’s World Cup run to the Rose Bowl. She was pregnant with Quinn at the time.

Jim Hughes won an International Hockey League championship as an assistant with the Orlando Solar Bears — 12 days after Jack was born — and the family relocated as Jim got coaching gigs in Boston and then Ontario when he was hired by the American Hockey League’s Toronto Marlies. Ellen scaled back on broadcasting with three little boys in the house. She loved parenting but never stopped loving sports. That led to Mommy and Me skating days in Massachusetts. Childhood photos and videos show Quinn, Jack and Luke in NHL jerseys and dressing rooms, but the boys also followed the women’s game.

“My kids have grown up watching that,” Ellen says. “They’ve watched the women as much as the men.”

There was never a grand plan to create a family of hockey stars. Jim and Ellen were hopeful of landing college scholarships and nothing more. They kept the game fun and light, encouraging hard work but not drudgery. Ellen was once pulled aside by Quinn’s grade school teacher, who told her that her oldest boy was often looking out the window at his mom skating with little Jack at lunchtime.

But genetics and the perfect hockey environment — including a childhood in ice rink-heavy Ontario — conspired to make Jack both heady and speedy.

“Quinn was a worker, very competitive,” Jim says. “Jack was . . . well, you could see there was something else going on.”

Jim remembers when Jack was put out onto the rink with some older kids, at defense, and he promptly took the puck and wove in and out of larger players as if they were orange cones. It was an early glimpse of the force field. Jack was 5 years old.

As the boys grew into their teens, Ellen became an uber-planner for games and practices. But she was far more than a driver of minivans and provider of Gatorade, especially when Jim was on the road. She was a hockey resource.

“They could ask, ‘What do you think of this?’ ” Ellen says. “They would want my opinion. Or, ‘Come watch the game with me.’ Or they’d throw me in net. That to them is normal; they don’t know differently.”

Ellen insists that Jim had the primary role in the boys’ development, but Jim insists Ellen’s hockey knowledge “meant everything.”

“She would tell the boys the truth,” he says. “She could talk to the kids. She knew what to say and what not to say. She could connect.”

This may be avant-garde in a historical sense but not to the Hughes boys. Quinn had a girl on his team as a youth player. NBD, as the kids say. “Women’s hockey is pretty cool, too,” Jack says. “Hockey is hockey.”

The family eventually moved to Michigan (where Quinn went to college), and Hughes obliterated the points record for the national team’s development program. Last month he had three assists in seven games with Team USA at the world championships even though he only turned 18 in late May and was facing NHL-caliber opponents.

“That’s kind of uncharted water,” Wroblewski says. “That’s a man’s tournament.”

Hughes’s precision is to the point where he has been known to attempt to shoot the puck off the goalie’s mask and into the net. He says to expect some of the unexpected at the next level.

“You could see a lot of things,” he laughs.

That includes something very rare: a first overall NHL pick born in the United States. Hughes would be only the eighth player to earn that honor. And he is not shy about admitting it’s “really important to him” to go No. 1 to the Devils (even though he’s also happy to land with the Rangers at No. 2).

Story continues below advertisement

“You dream of going first overall,” he says. “You don’t dream of going later than that.”

No members of the Hughes family assign any special status to what they have done. “We’re just another American hockey family,” Jim insists. “That’s all we are. There have been pioneers before us. We are just another American hockey family.”

Yes and no. Having two children as star athletes could happen more often in the United States.

“Fathers are still more likely to socialize boys into sport than mothers,” says Cheryl Cooky, an associate professor of gender studies at Purdue. “But that’s shifting.”

“Shifting” is an apt word to describe Hughes and what he will bring to the NHL.

“He has really cut a path for himself,” Wroblewski says. “There’s an entire generation trying to grow up and play like Jack Hughes. He’s that unique.”

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 1, Wave 6, Poll 2

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included.

Check out the other polls in this wave and prior here.

Olivia-Fear and Hunger 2: Termina

Qualifications:

She is a wheelchair user and bisexual. During the confessional scene, players can have her admit to being attracted to any of the other train passengers, although O'saa immediately clocks her for being specifically attracted to one of the women on the train. Additionally, reading her mind in the demo reveals that she finds both Marina and Levi attractive.

Propaganda:

Olivia is my personal favorite disabled representation in any horror game since she does have to get through the game differently compared to the non-wheelchair using players, it is simply another way of experiencing the game. She's also just a very fun character among the horrors. She's also super down for killing the horrors with a gun she found! Elated even!

Havelock Vetinari-Discworld

Qualifications:

Canonically disabled (bad leg and uses a cane), fanon commonly as not-straight and even in-universe no one has any clue what this mans sexuality is. Also incredible queer vibes

Propaganda:

I love this man. Guy is a trained assassin who is probably some flavour of neurodivergent and is also running the biggest city in the world. He is a benevolent tyrant who despises slavery, actively drags the city towards the future with actual helpful projects such as revolutionizing the banking system and including species other then humans in the city and generally works for the city, not personal gain. Too many of the other rich people don’t really like him, which means his biggest supporters are the beggars guild, the sex workers (Who he allowed to essentially unionise) and occasionally the city watch, whose leader severely dislikes rich people and only supports him because everyone else would be worse. Vetinari also keeps the discs equivalent of Leonardo da Vinci in his attic. To be fair, he is there voluntarily and could probably leave if he really wanted to. The inhabitants of the city he rules have no idea what exactly his sexuality is and speculate about. Him having a potential affair with the ruler of another country is speculated, but there is zero proof for that and to be honest, common fanon is that he is most definitely not straight and likely more closer to gay or asexual. As a ruler of the city there were several attempts to depose of him, including such ideas as summoning a dragon to be able crown someone as king, poisoning via arsenic-laced candles (Vetinari was able to identify the poison while halfway delirious) and on one notable occasion getting turned into a lizard. During one of these attempts he got shot, which results in him having to use a cane. Also, Vetinari really likes dogs.

[walkergirlsposts]

//Hahaha Right??? I noticed that with him and Misha. They have the most unhinged and mentally unwell stans. What is up with that?//

I’m going to try to respond to this seriously, not just taking the piss.

I honestly think a large reason Jensen has some seriously unhinged fans is because he started in soaps, so they could see him every day just about for like 3 years straight. Also, at the time, he was fairly young, came off as shy and he projected a pretty sweet and more conservative/proper image. He also does lean into playing vulnerable, or did, so all these things can stir up feelings of protectiveness. He was also quite handsome, with an almost more pretty quality. And I sort of get his charisma. When I first started watching Supernatural I absolutely loved him, especially since Dean just wanted his family to be together. Jared had a harder job winning over the audience sympathy in some ways, since Sam was more resistant to family at first and Sam was angry and grieving for the first while in Season 1. I came to love Sam/Jared more, but Dean is very appealing in the shallow, fun sense. Finally, rogue characters are generally the most popular (I liked Han better than Luke).

Now, there are other actors just as handsome or more so than Jensen, and others who started in soaps or play rigues, but I think he kind of has a perfect storm of the qualities and type of characters that appeal to certain types of women. Then in the SPN fandom, them being the loudest attracted other people with a similar way of engaging (or over engaging) with characters. They also keep seeing both Jensen and Dean as the guy and character he started out as, and are blind to what both have turned in to.

For Misha, he’s the battle cry of the weirdos, the ones who feel left out, and the ones who hate Jared for being the lead. He also has huge overlap with Jensen crazies because he’s no competition for Jensen. He’s not close to as handsome, he isn’t as a good an actor, he isn’t as well-known. And he never will be. Misha also preys on the gullible, lonely or stupid and makes himself their champion, so they defend him to the death. He tells them what they want to hear, and they love him conditionally as long as he continues to do so.

Jared fans often tend to like the actor for the good things he does, or the way he makes people smile, rather than for being "hot or cool" even though he is attractive. It generally breeds lesss fanatical fans and more fondness from fans. Though Jared does have some fans who are over invested and seem to view him as their salvation and security blanket. But even the more obsessive ones are just focused on him for what he gives them rather than trying to make sure he’s viewed as better by outsiders.

Sorry. That got long, but I wanted to seriously conducted the answer further myself since it baffles me too how Jensen and Misha has some of the most vile minions.

Thanks for that anon. That explains a lot.

[thewhumpcaretaker]

this is random and probably not worded the best but do you have any tips on writing men? I tend to struggle writing them.

This is such an interesting question because writing men is not really something that I think about. It comes more naturally to me than writing women (maybe because my own masculinity was left unexpressed for so long that I now just find it pouring out of me). But this gave me an opportunity to think about it.

I think my first piece of advice would be to not think about them as men at all, but instead think of their character traits, the way that you would when writing anyone. What do they desire? What is their biggest fear? How do they want other people to view them? What are their blind spots or weaknesses? That should be the starting point, the heart of the scene.

But there are some differences in attitude/expression, and I think they tend to arise around social expectations. Men are less likely to touch each other in public, for example (at least in contemporary American culture) because that's just not expected. So if you see a full-on hug or kiss or hand holding, especially if it's between two men, that's a bigger deal and it's likely to be a sign of either a confident person who doesn't care what others think, or a lot of emotion.

I also think that in general, shame is likely to be something that's a factor in the character's story. Men are shamed pretty much no matter what they do, just like women are - everybody is shamed under sexist social structures, just in different ways. They are expected to be providers, to be strong, to take action in any crisis, to hide their emotions. If they fail, they are shamed for "femininity". And yet if they succeed in these overt shows of power, they are feared, and are shamed for inspiring fear in others. Imagine the shame of passing a woman on the way home in the evening and seeing her cross the street to avoid you - the shame of knowing that just your body was enough to frighten someone. This is not at all to minimize what women experience in that situation (in many ways that's worse), but men feel something negative too, and their shame has a different nature to it. Now imagine that shame amplified to the extremes of a person who has actually killed others to try to maintain his image, and you get an idea of why I tend to write such self-loathing male characters in the John Wick universe (besides the fact that it's fun to write self-loathing and watch it turn to self-love...)

For the same reason, loneliness is a bigger factor. There's near-constant, competitive social performance going on for men, especially men in high-profile positions within organizations that have a lot of tradition, like the mafia stuff that I tend to write. So there's not a lot of room to be themselves and form deeper connections in that situation.

All of this adds up to mean that when a man experiences connection, whether it's mental or physical, it's such a relief, such a big deal. And if he cries in front of someone, it's like a distilled symbol of everything that men don't normally get to express. It's a taboo, and how the characters (including the one who's crying) respond to the tears says a lot about them. This is probably why I tend to write male tears as the climax (sexual or not) of a lot of my stories. It's this proving point - can someone step out of the social expectations set for them and accept this man as a person for his genuine emotions? Can he accept himself? If so, it's an incredibly satisfying victory.

Okay uhhh...after all of that heavy stuff, here's some superficial things to mention in descriptions and such:

Facial hair. Do they like or dislike shaving? Do they have some meaning behind the way they style it? If your characters are on the run or in captivity, it will grow out unless they have a shaving kit. Unless they don't have much facial hair to begin with. Not everyone can grow a beard.

The walk. Men walk so...so...uniquely. It's gorgeous. It's not stiff, but it's solid. "Swagger" and "saunter" and "strut" are good words. Just look at men walking sometime and try to describe it.

Sitting. Unbuttoning a single coat button to sit when wearing fancy clothing. Arranging their legs differently if they're a penis-haver. That thing men do when they rest one ankle on the other knee.

Aaaaaaaa I have a lot of feelings about men, if you couldn't tell. Anyway, I hope that helped! If anyone wants to chime in with other thoughts (especially people who were raised as men growing up, because I didn't have that experience), please let me know. I'm sure I missed a lot - this is just the first few things that came to mind.