#apparently i need to go through my inbox more

[sga-owns-my-soul]

ok so you know that whole "sentient Atlantis is basically Casita from Encanto" thing? well Casita had cracks when the family was "breaking apart" so what if when there's big fights (especially Rodney vs John or Radek) systems shut down? because obviously cracks in a floating city on the ocean is a terminal problem but system malfunctions? that seemingly fix themselves when the fighting parties "make up"? that's totally safe and on the table

Atlantis doesn't like her humans to fight it makes her sad 🥺

shsjajdkak how did i not answer this yet omg

i actually love the idea of atlantis being petty when people are fighting specifically john and rodney she absolutely would shut systems down and make transporters malfunction and lock people into rooms together until they made up omg i love this concept so much it's basically canon to me

[nogutsnogloria]

summary: lena has a dance recital and pope needs your help. feelings can’t be pushed down any longer.

andrew pope cody x reader

a/n: i was working on some of the requests in my inbox when i got distracted (sowwy) this is a continuation of what i am calling pope x lena’s favorite. i don’t necessarily think this is a chapter situation mainly because i suck at chapters. i write ideas as they come and inspire.

pope was screwed in a major way. lena’s dance class just came home with a set of mandatory steps needed to be taken for recital hair and makeup. staring back at him in big bold letters. do not deviate this is a non negotiable for all recitals your dancer will not perform if standards are not met. you had shown him the basics in order to keep it out of her face at class but now this looked way more complicated and he has no idea where to start. well technically he does: with an SOS text to you.

you message back with ???? i can be there in 10 minutes. he replies with a picture the piece of paper that contains the stupid rules. he’s never liked following rules. his own rule was no rules except when it came to lena, and maybe you now if he thought about it hard enough.

either you’ve missed the part entirely of his SOS text or you’re messing with him because you reply back omg andrew a recital, that’s going to be too cute! can i buy a ticket to go? he’s shaking his head with a small smile. i already have your ticket, lena made sure of that. but she won’t be dancing if i’m in charge of her hair and makeup this is why i need you. apparently she needs someone backstage to do this hair and makeup pre-show and for my sake and hers can you please help, it’s either you or one of the moms who hate me, or worse… smurf. there is a clear number one choice for me and lena.

he watches your three little dots signalling that your responding back and he finds himself holding his breath because this feels like a big ask of you to be his dependent’s special person when you two aren’t even dating. of course i can help! you can let the studio know that i will be lena’s stage hand. he releases the breath he was holding. i owe you.

the day of the recital came up quickly on you. you find yourself rushing to pope’s house with all the supplies needed to make sure lena is the cutest dust bunny any production of snow white has ever seen. hairbrush, gel, elastics, bobby pins. little clips to hold lena’s bunny ears on her head. the standard red lipstick and a good eyeliner to put whiskers on her face, exactly as the studio deemed necessary for the show. you’ll do her makeup backstage but you’re heading over to their house early so you can do her hair. not bothering with a knock you open the sliding glass door and smell the pancake breakfast being made. “smells good in here.” you take a seat next to lena at the table. “big day calls for a big breakfast” pope places a plate in-front of you and takes a seat on lena’s other side his own plate in front of him. you all eat with easy conversations between the three of you talking about events the big and the mundane since you all saw each other last.

you glance at the time. “i should get started on your hair while you finish breakfast. is that okay lena?” she nods and you get to work. the studio wants two french braids into a bun. you start by gently brushing out the tangles. pope excuses himself to make a call while you work. he’s on the phone watching through the glass door, because he can’t help himself. lena is chatting about something to you animatedly you are keeping the conversation going but you have your brows knitted in concentration on lena’s hair. you say something to lena that has her looking up at you and the both of you laughing. the sight is enough to make his heart burst but its the sound that can be heard through the little crack in the sliding glass door makes his knees buckle a bit. you’re also being so gentle. his only memory of smurf doing julia’s hair was it always seemed so rough and almost painful, lena looks pretty much relaxed as you are pinning her bun into place.

you tell lena she’s all good to go and tell her to change into her leotard and tights. she skips down the hall and you’re starting to clean the dishes. that makes pope wrap up his phone call. “hey deran i gotta go. see you at the recital.” he hangs up and goes back inside. “you’ve already helped enough today and you’re not even halfway through.” he pours you a cup of coffee. “go sit down, relax for a few before we have to head to the theatre” you roll your eyes playfully at him and sit at the island. “you’re kinda bossy, has anyone ever told you that?” he smiles at you and continues with the dishes.

it’s time to leave so that you arrive backstage on time. pope opens the passenger side door to the truck for you to get in before he is getting lena situated in her car seat in the back. he hops into his side and starts the car on its way to the local theatre. “lena are you getting excited?” you turn back to look at her. “i’m scared” you look at pope who has sported a new frown at lena’s admission. you turn back reaching your hand out for her to take. “its okay to be nervous. it’s a big new thing that you’re doing today. preforming in-front of a crowd can be scary sometimes, but you’ve practiced so hard at dance class. and me and uncle pope are so excited to watch you, all your friends are dancing right next to you, how fun is that? i love dancing with my friends” pope is in awe at how you were just able to completely validate lena’s feelings, without telling her she has no reason to be scared, like it’s regular conversation for you. you make it seem so easy. “plus i think uncle pope said we can go for ice cream after to celebrate.” he absolutely did not say this but who is he to say no to you, or lena for that matter, especially when you’re giving him the playful smile that he suspects you somehow have figured out is an automatic yes from him to anything you say. plus that information seemed to change lena’s mind. “okay yeah i am excited to dance.”

you arrive at the theatre and get out of the truck. this is where you have to leave pope to go with lena backstage, he hands you your ticket. “i will save your seat for you.” you nod and grab lena’s hand and head towards the dressing rooms.

in the dressing room you feel so out of place next to all the rich dance moms, walking around like they belong back here. but you try and hide your insecurities from lena, instead focusing on getting her ready. you help her get her costume on. you clip her bunny ears to her head and secure everything with a bit more hairspray. next you move on to the whiskers making sure that you’re putting all your perfectionist tendencies to good use for once. the lipstick is next, you don’t glob it on like the other girls’ moms have. just lightly putting enough on so it doesn’t bother lena or get everywhere. “i don’t like it when i can feel my lipstick stuck on my lips” you tell her as you apply. finally you are helping her put on her ballet slippers, the last step before the dance teacher will take over and you can escape the dressing room and go running back to andrew.

the dance teacher comes in and is taking a look at all of the girls to make sure everyone is presentable. she’s eyeing lena up and down which causes a pit to form in your stomach wondering if you’ve messed something up for her. the dance teacher speaks up “everyone listen up, if your little dancer does not look like miss lena then fix whatever you have done incorrectly” she’s pointing towards lena to show off your work which makes you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. lena beams at you and gives you a hug. you crouch down to look her in the eye and hold her hands. “i have to go find my seat, but remember uncle pope and i are so proud of you and we know you’re going to do so good. we will be in the lobby waiting for you when the show is all done okay?” lena nods and the dance teacher comes to wrangle all the girls to get them show ready, you sneak out of the dressing room.

you stop at the vendor selling flowers in the lobby and buy a bouquet to give lena after the show and look at your ticket to find your seat. you head to the area you see andrew sitting beside his family and your suddenly feeling out of place again like you’re intruding on a family event, but you push it down and go to your seat. you slide into the one beside andrew, his hand brushing your lower back as you pass by him to your seat. you pretend like that didn’t do something to make you wish his hands were on you more often. he’s looking down into your eyes with a smile. “flowers? where did you find those?” you look down at the bouquet. “in the lobby but he was closing up i had to sweet talk my way into this these” he smiles at you. “yeah i bet you did, well now you’re going to make me look bad with nothing for lena.” without hesitation you hand him the bouquet. “give her these ones, they will be more special coming from you.” he’s wondering what you mean by that, you could have brought lena a rock and she would be talking about how special it was for days because it came from you. “you paid for them, i can’t take them” your thrusting them towards his hands “you paid for my ticket. think of it as a trade” you drive him crazy by never letting him pay for anything. “well you got all that stuff to put in her hair” you look at him with your sparkly eyes and he knows he’s lost this little argument before you even open your mouth to respond. “i bought those things with the cash that i randomly found in my wallet. it appeared out of nowhere like a reverse robbery” he knows that you know it was him but you let him have that little win. he’s biting back a smile ready to keep this little playful thing going when the lights dim signalling the show is about to begin.

the show starts and pope can’t keep his eyes off you from the corner of his eye. you are so supportive of all the dancers and he watches you melt at the little toddlers running around, and it melts him a little. especially when he looks past you and sees his and lena’s actual family not even hiding the fact that they’d rather be anywhere but here. when lena’s class is finally on, its your turn to take a peak at pope watching lena dance. you aren’t disappointed when you do watching him watch her with a proud pride that makes you smile as you turn back your face mirrors him watching lena dance around the stage with a big smile.

once the recital is all done you head to the lobby with andrew’s family and wait for lena to come out. pope suddenly feeling protective of you, and your too good for his world watching smurf’s eyes look at you up and down. he walks over to you to block you from her line of sight. you don’t have to wait much longer for lena to come bounding over still in costume, pope scoops her up in his arms and the family surrounds her now turning it on like they actually cared to spend their afternoon watching the recital. lena has had enough of them so she’s wiggling out of pope’s arms to go running over to you. you pick her up in a hug and feel her give you one back. “lena that was so good, did you have fun?” you feel her nod against you. “so much fun. thank you for coming and helping me. look at the flowers uncle pope got me” she’s proudly holding the flowers up to you. “those are so pretty. we better get going so that we can get them in some water.” your looking up at pope hopefully conveying with silent eye contact that you have given them an out. “yeah we better get going it’s been a long day here for us, thanks for showing up” with that he leads the way back to his truck, lena still in your arms chatting to you about what happened backstage after you left her. pope gently grabs her out of your arms so he can buckle her into her car seat. “uncle pope are we still stopping for ice cream?” he looks at you in the front seat trying to hide a smile and then back at lena who’s looking up at him waiting for his answer. “of course we are, we’re celebrating an amazing performance”

he stops at the little spot close to the house and lets you and lena order. he doesn’t get anything and you roll your eyes at him calling him boring which makes him huff a laugh as he goes to pay. lena has grabbed your hand and pulled you out the door so you can’t protest to him about it. the shop worker hands back the change saying “you have a beautiful family.” he turns back to look at you and lena, she’s still in her dance costume, your swinging her hand in yours around and she’s smiling and giggling at whatever you just said. he nods at the worker in thanks and leaves the shop to join you and lena on the bench that you found where you enjoy your ice cream and the company.

you’re finally all home from the big outing. well back to pope and lena’s so you can collect your things that you left there, and go home. pope cannot stop thinking about what the ice cream shop worker had to say and how bad he wanted it to be true, how that if it was then you wouldn’t be leaving again to go to your own place.

“hey i was thinking about ordering pizza for dinner, you should stay. lena would probably like your help better taking that hair down” you don’t even look up from your bag where you’re making sure you have everything. “oh are you sure? you already fed me pancakes and ice cream today i’m going to start feeling like a bit of a free loader.”

he looks down at you and what he really wants to do is shake your shoulders so that you understand what he says next, instead he grabs one of your wrists so that you stop what your doing to look at him. “all the things you do for lena without batting an eye, all the things you do for me, you are the opposite of a free loader in this house. okay?” his eyes are so intense when you look into them and your skin is tingling on your wrist where his hand is wrapped around you don’t even know how to answer him, how to tell him that you would do everything all over again in a heartbeat because even though this whole thing started with just wanting to make sure lena was taken care of, it has selfishly turned into excuses to see him too. you settle with a nod of acceptance and a “sure i will stay for pizza” he lets go of your wrist to go order. you stay to eat pizza and help pope to finally coax lena out of her costume and into her pajamas so that she can go to bed. you’re with her in the bathroom taking out all the bobby pins out of the bun leaving the two braids in her hair on her request. next you’re helping her gently wash off the makeup and leave her to brush her teeth. “hey i’m going to put her to bed but do you want to stay for a beer after?” you nod at his offer. “sure”

your sitting on the couch when you hear lena’s door softly close for the night. pope heads to the fridge and pulls out two bottles and opens them bringing them back to the couch. you take one and turn to face him. “the lady at the ice cream shop said something interesting to me today.” here goes nothing pope thinks. you take a sip of your beer. “oh yeah?” he leans in a bit closer. “yeah told me i had a beautiful family after you and lena went outside” he’s eyeing you for a reaction, you give him an adorable one without realizing of your eyes going wide in shock like maybe you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t. reminds him of the night he met you lena’s bedroom at smurf’s with your tiara on. “i, oh, uh what did you tell her?” you stammer out. “nothing, i didn’t correct her. just thanked her and went out to join you two.” you can’t think of anything to say so you just stare into pope’s eyes. you start with an “andrew i-“ and he cuts you off before you say something. “i think i didn’t correct her because i wanted it to be true, it made me realize that i haven’t made a move because if i mess this up im not just messing it up for me, but also for lena. you are the best thing that could have possibly happened to us coming into our lives when you did.” you look at him with glassy eyes, and he speaks again. “i would really like to try with you if that was something you’d want” you grab his hand and answer with a simple “yes” that makes him smile at you “yeah?” you’re smiling back and nodding still holding his hand. “you have to do it proper though i’m not just going to kiss you tonight because we shared our feelings that we’ve both had for a while.” you admit to him that you feel the same way. “you have to wine and dine me even if we are doing things a little backwards.” he laughs at how cute you are. “how about next friday night? i get a sitter and i take you out?” you smile and look up at him through your eyelashes. “yes please.”

[hederasgarden]

Can I get "Don't be shy now, sit on my face" with the cowboy himself, Mr. Tyler Owens?

BESTIE. The scream I scrumpt.  Thanks to @a-reader-and-a-writer for the mechanical bull idea. This is long because I am incapable of responding to a request in 100 words apparently.

Pairing: Tyler Owens x F!Reader Word Count: 569 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, 18+ only. Oral (female receiving) and face sitting. Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Masterlist ♡ Glen Powell Character Masterlist

"And this is supposed to help me ride the mechanical bull how exactly?" you question with your knees planted on either side of Tyler's chest.

"Just trust me, sweetheart."

“That's not an answer," you tell him archly. 

He tilts his head back to look up at you. "Have I ever steered you wrong?"

"No...I'm just a bit nervous,” you admit.

He gazes steadily at you, and the way he rubs his hands up and down your thighs is both soothing and reassuring. "Well, you know what I like to say....you don't face your fears, you ride them."

You stare down at him, unamused. He grins back at you.

"Come on little lady, belly up to the bar," he encourages, cupping your ass and yanking you forward until the most intimate part of you is only inches away from his face. 

Embarrassment burns under your skin, and you fight the urge to shift away. This close, Tyler's bound to see every little imperfection, and it’s made worse by the fact that he’s practically perfect himself. Sometimes just looking at him could overwhelm you, not to mention what happened when he took his shirt off.

"Come on," he encourages softly.

Hesitantly, you lower yourself over him until he can nose at your folds. You grip the headboard and shift experimentally, inhaling sharply when Tyler drags the flat of his tongue through your center. Your thighs tense and he does it again, letting out a low, satisfied little hum that has you clenching around nothing. 

For a few minutes, Tyler seems content just to taste and tease you with soft, sweeping motions.  Slowly, you feel yourself begin to relax, some of the tension leaving your thighs. When you settle more firmly against him, he groans in response, his fingers flexing against your skin. You close your eyes and rock your hips forward, the world narrowing to the feel of his tongue in your cunt and his nose brushing against your clit. 

"Tyler," you moan. 

He groans in response, fingertips digging into your skin as his tongue spears into you. The messy way he eats you out is so loud that you’d be embarrassed if it weren’t for how good it makes you feel. Gone is any hesitation on your part as you ride his face in earnest. You grasp his hair and pull, desperate to have him even closer.

The beginning of your orgasm sparks to life in your belly, the rough drag of his tongue over your clit fanning the embers. Your hips move of their own accord, your body chasing what it needs. When your orgasm washes over you Tyler doesn’t stop, holding you still as he drinks greedily from your cunt. By the time he’s done with you, your thighs are trembling, and your breath comes in quick, uneven gasps.

“Oh my god.”

“It’s Tyler,” he reminds you with a smirk. You watch him wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. He’s flush and his hair is tousled from your grip. But above all, he looks satisfied. 

“That was good, sweetheart. Real good.”

All you can manage is a thumbs up in response, your head hanging forward. “So,” you begin, “are you going to tell me now what that had to do with bull riding.”

“Not a goddamn thing,” he says with the biggest grin you’ve seen.

Send me a request

[qqueenofhades]

There is no law that prevents a convicted felon from running for and becoming president, nor a law that bans someone from being president in prison. Also, if Trump gets incapacitated in someway, many ultra right republicans who equally despise trans people and immigrants and Muslims would happily take his place

And I ask, with all due respect, what is your point?

Do you think I don't know that?

Do you think I am somehow convinced that everything is hunky dory now and we don't have any work left to do?

Are you just determined to be the first of the gloom-and-doomers who show up like clockwork in my inbox, every time some consequence happens to Trump, to morosely insist that no consequences will happen to him? First it was "he'll win re-election." Then it was "the coup will succeed." Then it was "he will never be indicted." Then it was "2022 will be a red wave!" Then it was "he will never be tried." Then it was "he will never be convicted." Now we've moved on, within less than 2 hours of the first US President ever to be convicted of ONE felony, let alone THIRTY-FOUR, "he'll never be sentenced or face a real consequence or lose the election." The goalposts keep moving RIGHT along without even a single pause to acknowledge the difficulty and the value of the progress we have made thus far, and it makes me CRAZY.

Do you people realize how fucking rare it is, both in the world today and historically, for a former (and would-be future) head of state to be held to criminal account by a jury of 12 anonymous ordinary citizens? When that one person, Trump, is the center of the malignant fascist cancer that has spread through this country ever since 2016, and plenty of his cultists are still insisting that it's Trump or nobody for them? When we've actually reached the stage of holding him legally accountable for (some of) his crimes for the first time in his miserable misbegotten life? I suspect that most of you are so deep in the "America is totally broken and the system is useless and we can only Revolute!!!1" rabbit hole that you're bound and determined to argue away every step we take, however slow, as Meaning Nothing TM. Voting? Fake. Fighting to make real progress? Also fake. Everything is fake except our belief that everything is broken and we need the Keyboard Warrior Glorious Revolution!!! As long as you can keep inventing ever more contorted twists of logic to ignore everything else that's happened so far, this makes sense... or something. I guess?

Now we're onto "removing Trump won't matter :(" when a whole lot of people have been fighting day and fucking night to get all the privileged-princess Online Leftists to get off their Che Guevara cosplaying asses and cast a single fucking vote to keep us from full-on-sliding into fascism. A slide into fascism that, again, has been spearheaded and centered around Trump's toxic cult of personality and which is still tied to him in almost every way. Apparently holding him to account (again, which has never happened to him in his life) already doesn't matter because wah wah he won't suffer any consequences. If he loses this election he's probably going to jail for the rest of his life! We would have electorally defeated the greatest threat to the American democratic experiment in 250 years, and frankly a huge part of the fascist far-right hydra that is currently attempting a comeback around the world! This is, yet again:

THE FIRST TIME ANY AMERICAN PRESIDENT, EVER, HAS BEEN CONVICTED OF MULTIPLE FELONY CHARGES IN A COURT OF LAW BY A JURY OF HIS PEERS

and yet we're still hearing that nothing matters and no work has been done and removing him will have no effect???

Come on. Come on. I know it's tiring and it's slow and it doesn't go as fast as we want. But every single damn time the process goes another step, here you people are in my inbox insisting that we're still at zero progress and it means nothing, and lemme tell you, I am Tired of it. Come on. You don't have to jump up and down (my own feeling is glee and vindication but still not relaxation, I will not relax until he loses the fucking election and goes to jail), but you also don't need to keep myopically pretending that all the effort thus far by so many people means nothing. Come on.

[punkitt-is-here]

I went back, read the FAQ, figured out I was working with bad information, and would like to present an actually polite version of the previous ask.

The other women you were having the "AFAB trans woman" debate with haven't been able to let go of it,

because anons have been accusing them of gatekeeping and TERF politics for providing anecdotes of, basically, AFAB people identifying as trans women to mock or overthrow their social groups. Citations below:

https://strawberry-crocodile.tumblr.com/post/742523159739334656/aita-for-warning-new-transfem-friends-that-someone

https://necronatural.tumblr.com/post/754196456131428352/sorry-but-if-youre-afab-you-do-not-get-to-call

I understand that the brazen, all-caps-bold-text mockery of any ask on this topic is great for driving off hateful anons pointed at you,

but if you could lend some credit to @patricia-taxxon 's responses, for example, it'd help take some hate off her back and really hep build my respect for you as an artist.

This will be likely my last proper response on any of this so be chill about it

I really, genuinely do not care that much about this subject much at all. It is a passing thought to me. I made the original post, responded once or twice, and made a quesadilla. it was fucking delicious. I do not appreciate the way you have talked to me. If you're going to treat yourself like someone I have to earn the respect back of instead of a random stranger on the internet who was very brazen to me in a one-off inbox message, I am not going to care.

With that out of the way: I have read the citations you have listed. I do not care. I have read them, thoroughly considered their points, and I still do not give a shit. What you are pointing at here in the first one is an individual perpetrating shitty behavior. I am not saying that this is the case, but if there was an assigned-male-at-birth woman perpetrating the same information, it would become very apparent very quickly how obvious it is that the issue is not with their gender identity, it is with the information they are spreading. Anyone is capable of misinformation, and I am not going to shit on and belittle a completely niche gender identity because one woman on the internet fucked up one time. If I did that, I'd be a hypocrite and would not be practicing any sort of good faith towards people with gender identities I do not fully understand. This is a core tenant of how I approach queerness. I do not need to understand someone to respect them. I do not need to worry about how conservatives will see us. I do not need to worry about the larger queer community when one person is being off-putting. I am not a fucking square. I achieve a lot of inner peace by simply practicing what you have named "tits-and-beer gender liberalism".

The second post you have linked is also something that I have read. I have considered the points in said post. My stance has still not changed. I do not think ID'ing as a transfeminine person when you were assigned female at birth is an inherently transphobic concept. Plenty of people in my notes have described experiences that very clearly and understandably outline why they do or why others might identify with the concept. I fundamentally disagree with the response because I do not believe that it is a transphobic idea. I am a transgender woman and have been for about half a decade now. My relationship with femininity is complex, and I am a binary transgender woman. I think in the grand scheme of gender identities, switching from one binary to the other has been pretty easy for me mentally. I am not intersex, I have never detransitioned in any way, and my family has been incredibly supportive. I transitioned specifically for the euphoria I got from identifying as a woman. I still have a complicated relationship with womanhood. Someone who has gone through many more hardships than I have is probably going to have an even more complicated relationship with femininity, and that is why I have no trouble imagining why something like an AFAB trans woman would exist. Perhaps someone has a complicated relationship with gender in relation to their intersex status and feels that the journey that transgender women take more closely aligns with their own rather than cisgender womanhood. Perhaps they are non-binary and have still transitioned to a more feminine-leaning identity. Perhaps they have de-transitioned, but now they are irreversibly changed by that experience and they are, in a way of thinking, "trans-feminine" because they are transitioning back to femininity. It is not hard for me to think of reasons. It is not saying that trans women are not real women. I think it is very clear to me that "transfem" can easily describe an experience with femininity that differs from the cisgender experience. It is no less valid, it is simply different, as with all things.

"Transfem" can mean "a man transitioning into a woman", but it can also describe a complex approach towards self-identification. We can argue semantics all we want, but I do not care personally. I do not think transfem means transitioning from man to woman exclusively. I am a binary transgender woman, and I do not agree that that is all it is. My journey as a transgender individual has been very uncomplicated compared to others, but it is still an ocean deep. I do not want to reduce that journey and identification down to a simple "man become woman" because that betrays the inherent complexity of transitioning and figuring out yourself.

Ultimately, to me, it comes down to not giving a shit. I am rarely, if ever, going to meet an AFAB transfem person. You are rarely, if ever, going to meet an AFAB transfem person. It is an incredibly niche gender identity with a lot of baggage, as we have seen. It is never going to matter in the broad scheme of things that they exist because 99% of people are not going to bring them up in the wider conversation about transfemininity. I know that finding your identity can be a rough, arduous process. I am not going to deprive someone of the joy of self-discovery, even if it is a complex or contradictory idea. I do not fully understand neopronouns. I do not fully understand things like polyamory or he/him lesbians or AFAB transfems. I do not need to. In real life, you hang out with people and share food and good times together. None of this shit matters. If I am ever so lucky to meet someone with a contradictory or confusing identity, I am happy that my words may provide them comfort and that they won't live to hide themselves around me. Making someone feel like they have to hide parts of their self is the last thing I would ever want anyone to experience.

I have no beef with Patricia. I quite like her work. When I saw her response, I disagreed. I still do. I am not going to start agreeing with an idea I am expressly opposed to because someone asked. But it is not the end of the world. I would appreciate, if my followers are sending her harassment, that they fucking stop, because it's not that big a deal. If anyone from my post is sending anyone hate because of a public disagreement on that post, I ask you kindly to stop and go outside. I do not condone the behavior. It is not that big a deal.

I am going to go make myself a ham and egg sandwich and practice tits and beer gender liberalism now. I hope this satisfies your request in some way.

[caxasy]

the bracelets : a love token

xavier x male!reader

summary: jealous, possessive xavier short story [festival edition !]

requested?: YES quite an old request iirc, thank u so much for requesting :') i love every single request i get - even if i can't get to all of them or it takes me fourhundred years, i rlly appreciate everyone sending stuff to my inbox!

xavier had originally suggested you two go to this festival because he had heard from lily how fun it was when she went last year. the amount of activities and fun games they had which were paired with trendy gifts that were always sought after in winning. the delicious food stalls that lined up and down the festival grounds. the booths specifically targeted for couples.

of course xavier wanted to take his boyfriend out to such a fun event. even if he was more so a homebody, if he could make more memories with you and make you happy, then he doesn’t need much more convincing in going outside.

what xavier forgot to realize is that when you two go anywhere outside of the safety of your shared apartment, you are now his to share. he has to share your attention, time, and sweet personality with others, anyone that speaks to you. even people who may not know you, but think you have a kind enough face to start a conversation with while waiting in line for a sweet treat.

which was happening right now.

the two girls that were dressed in beautiful red garments, complimented with intricate hairstyles and simple, but flattering makeup. xavier’s eyes squinted in slight envy as he saw how objectively beautiful these two women were. one of which has not stopped talking to you the entire time you four have been waiting in the line — which was moving excruciatingly slow.

the other woman had tried talking to xavier, but he answered in disinterested one worded answers while keeping his eyes mainly trained on you.

“oh, that’s a beautiful bracelet,” the woman speaking to you ooh-ed, gently gracing her hands over the metal that adorned your wrist. you lifted your arm up, smiling softly as the light hit it so naturally.

“yes, xavier gave it to me as a gift,” the silver haired man grins in pride at being mentioned by name to her, slightly puffing his chest out unintentionally. he presses his side closer to yours, pulling his sleeve back to show the bracelet that was on his wrist as well. an undeniable matching pair.

that should be enough to get her to back off.

but no, apparently, she thought it nothing but a cute piece of jewelry you both were interested in. xavier grit his teeth, eyes glaring at the bracelet on your wrist as he goes on a tangent (in his mind) about how the bracelets are symbols of your permanent attachment to one another, how you two are the only ones for each other for the rest of your life. you and him, interlinked forever.

and she just thought it was a friendly gesture? how much more obvious can xavier make it that you were his beloved and he yours?

does he have to declare it in front of her? because he will if that’s what it takes.

his hands grips onto yours, tightly squeezing you in place by his side as he speaks through gritted teeth, “i gifted it to [name].” he says simply, not quite conveying his true thoughts properly to the two women.

“you’re so confident in showing off your wealth! i bet these two were expensive! did you get a good deal on them, that’s why you bought two?” the woman that was trying to sway xavier’s attention tried reaching for the bangle, but he quickly pulls away and places that hand on top of yours. your hand is now sandwiched in between two of his.

“i bought two for us,” he states, thinking his intentions behind his words are as clear as day. but, his judgement is slightly askew as they keep interpretting it as friendly gestures. and he can tell by the way they kindly smile at him, “as a couple.” he finally adds, pressing towards your body.

the entire time you were simply watching him with a gentle, patient smile.

”yeah, he’s really sweet in gift giving! even if i tell him not to, he keeps surprising me,” you lift your hand up and gently kiss his knuckles, unknowingly quelling his jealousy and envy to be so minimal he barely even feels it affect his emotion anymore.

meanwhile, the two girls in front of you blink in confusion, wondering if they had heard you correctly.

“he’s my boyfriend.”

xavier’s tone is finite and harsh, wanting nothing more but to see the look of realization cross their faces. he continues on, in a voice that sounds even more harsh, “we’re dating. if you didn’t know.”

“xavier, i think-”

“i bought him these bracelets because we are going to be together forever,” he continues on, now babbling at this point because the girls seem to understand the message clear enough, “i’m going to make him my husband-”

“okay! that’s enough!” you cut him off, making the girls finally snap out of their shocked silence. they nod politely at you two, throwing you a sheepish grin as they scurry off, leaving their spot in line completely empty.

“did they even want the food or were they just standing here to flirt with you?” xavier huffs ina grumpy tone, leaning his cheek onto your shoulder. his eyebrows are bunched together as he can’t help but ground himself to you. body weight growing more heavy on your, grip on your hands tightening. he’s doing his best to force you to pay attention to him.

“there was no need to be snippy with them,” you weakly defend, but it only earns you a glare.

“why are you defending them? you don’t even know them.”

“i was just-”

“why do you suddenly care about them? don’t tell me i need to go there and make it even more clear that you’re mine. i thought i was plenty clear already — or was i not clear enough with you?” his attitude is familiar now. the grumpy, snapping one he uses on you when he gets extra jealous, even more upset when you try rationalize a situation.

he’s so upset that he’s about to go on another tangent, but you cut him off with a kiss before he can start. a kiss that starts gentle, a pressing of your lips against his pouty ones. before you deepen it, tilting your head against his to gain the upper hand and control. he doesn’t give in immediately, frustrated with your tactics in distracting him. but when he feels your hand trail up his chest, linger on his collarbone, then hover over the back of his neck before gripping the roots of his hair, he can’t help but give in.

he melts into your touch and body, arms anchoring to your waist and steadying himself there to prevent himself from his knees completely giving out. when you pull away from the intense kiss, he realizes that you had just kissed him in front of everyone. all the people walking by know you’re his. the people standing behind you two in line know. the vendors on the street know.

and that’s enough to send an aggressive blush to his cheeks. his ears go red in an instant and he’s coughing behind his hand, which hopes to hide his face, but you already have seen his red cheeks.

“uhm,” it’s an awkward sound that escapes him and he almost curses at the embarrassing moment, but you smile at him — as if his expression is cute to you (which it is).

“i’m only yours, xavi,” you coo, ruffling his hair and bumping your shoulder against his. “don’t worry about others when we’re here together,”

you knew just what to say to calm his angsty nerves down. it doesn’t mean it goes away completely, though. he’ll always have the tiny (sometimes annoyingly large) part of him that gets jealous over the littlest things, but these remedies you give him temporarily distract his mind from overthinking.

”c’mon, let me win you a couple of plushies,” you invite him, also getting out of the line for food and now lookingf or vendors with cute animals that you know your boyfriend would like.

“only if i get to win you some in return as well,” he murmurs shyly, looking down as if this is your first date when the reality is that you’ve been dating for years already.

“oh, you’re adorable, baby,” you tease, knowing his atrocious luck with the claw machines he usually goes to at the arcade.

“i’ll get you something this time! something really special, to remember today,” he says in determination, eyebrows furrowed together as he tries finding a machine that looks easiest to maneuver.

you casually kiss his temple, swinging your intertwined hands back and forth, “don’t make promises you can’t keep, xavier,”

“i’ll win one! i will!” he argues back, looking adorable as he jokingly glares at you. another kiss to his temple.

“mhm, bun, i believe you.”

he blushes at the pet name. he’s so lucky to have you be so patient with him. everyday you spend together is another day he ends up thanking fate for sending you to him. there’s no one else he could imagine getting so childishly jealous and protective over if not you.

and you’re the perfect match for him because you never get tired of his behavior. quick to finding the solution, like right now, is something that xavier doesn’t take for granted.

and as you two walk hand in hand down the street of vendors, your bracelets clinking and clanging against one another’s, it’s a clear sign to everyone around you that you and your silly, jealous bunny are in this together. for life.

[wintfleur]

stop i need stella moments with her brothers in videos about them like “going home” 🙏🏼🙏🏼

౨ৎ going home (featuring Stella Hughes!)

﹕─┈ pairings ( Estella Hughes oc! X siblings! Hughes brothers )

°. — details ( g; fluff. w; none really? wc; 1.k )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I am sooo sorry for how long this has taken for me to get out !!! It got lost in my inbox lovely, but thank you sm for sending in a request! I loved writing it, so sorry that it’s short !!! Hope you guys enjoy !!! )

°. — this is based off this video.

°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list! )

au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!

﹕─┈ All of Stella’s moments during ‘Going Home | Quinn Hughes’

“Lukey was the best pool player in the family I would say, or in the house” Quinn answered Kate's question, as he motioned his head towards Luke who was leaning over the pool table with his stick. Stella’s lips twitched up into a smile, already knowing where her older brother was leading the conversation too. Quinn continued to speak with a small smile “He had like the best win percentage, and then he bought a pool stick.” 

“For like 200 bucks” Luke was quick to interrupt Quinn, an annoyed frown on his lips as he looked back on the bad money decision, he should have listened to stella. Quinn let out a small chuckle and glanced back at Stella before continuing to tease Luke “Yeah, and he just his game went down the down the rails like. He was like one in ten.” 

“What about you stella?” Kate sent the youngest Hughes a warm smile, looking at Stella who was sitting Criss crossed on the couch watching Luke.  Stella perked up at the mention of her name and sent Kate a happy smile, but before she could answer, Luke was quick to jump in and answer for her with a laugh “Stella’s the worst!” 

Everyone in the room laughs at the dramatic gasp that Stella let out. Jack, who was leaning against the wall, laughing louder than the rest at the offended look Stella sends him. Quinn just shrugs, he was not going to get in between Stella and Luke today. The Producer chuckles himself before asking Quinn another answer “are you the cook in the house?” 

Stella zones out as Quinn answers the question, her eyes dropping down to her lap where her phone rested when she felt it vibrate, a shy smile coming across her face when she sees who texted her. She bit her bottom lip to hide her smile, not wanting to give her suddenly happy mood away. 

lovey 🩵: do you think i'd survive sneaking through your window tonight? 

pretty girl 🩷: are you brave enough to try? (i give you a 40% survival rate) 

lovey 🩵: Bet! (i’d die happy though) 

“Isn't that right stella?” Quinn asked Stella, wanting her to agree with how he's a much better cook. Stella looks up from her phone where she was lost in her own world and sees everyone looking at her for an answer, but the only answer they got was a confused frown and a small “Huh.” 

Quinn and Jack chuckle while Luke narrows his eyes on her phone, Stella quickly shutting it off when she sees Luke's stare. Quinn chuckles and gives the camera a cheeky smile “I'm gonna take that as a yes.” 

Stella sat in the corner of the boat, a blanket over her lap and her hands stuffed into the front pocket of Luke's hoodie that she stole. She wanted to go sit up on the front of the boat, curled up next to her mom but they wanted her to sit with Luke and Jack, the fans wanted to see the siblings together more apparently. 

“Get your toes away from me” Stella quietly hissed at jack when he rested them up on the seat next to her, Luke who was laying on his stomach behind her stifled his laugh at the groan of annoyance stella lets out when jack teasingly moves his toes closer to her. Ellen leans forward and looks back at her children, she sends a warning look to her middle son and leans back, knowing that's all she'd have to do for him to stop bugging his sister.

Jack rolls his eyes and lets out an annoyed huff when Stella sends him a triumphant smirk, Stella leans back against the seat and looks out at the water as she listens to Quinn answer all the questions and talk about the lake. Luke absentmindedly played with a few strands of Stella's hair as he also zoned out looking out at the water. 

Stella brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arm around her knees, resting her chin on top of them. She bounces in her seats at the waves quinn goes over, a laugh leaving her lips when her mother starts to shout at quinn and stand up “I’m kidding it's going to be fine” Quinn laughed as he watched his mom stand up, wanting to get away from the splashes of water. 

A surprised gasp leaves Stella's lips and her body stills when she feels a cold chill run through her body, as she feels water come up and splash her in the face and neck. Everyone laughs on the boat as she hurriedly wipes off the water from her face, a loud laugh coming from quinn’s lips when stella whines “Quinnnn” Jack smiles and takes his hat off and drops it on Stella's head, protecting her face from the water. 

Quinn gives the camera a big grin before shrugging his shoulders “oops.” 

“What's the five for?” Kate asks Quinn as she motions towards the garage wall where four numbers in blue spray paint were written. 43,86,43 and 5. Quinn, Kate and the rest of the crew where in the garage, filming quinn as he shot some pucks, showing off the ‘shooting room.’ 

Quinn paused to catch his breath and turned to look back at the wall, memories flooding through his mind of him and his siblings all putting their number on the wall after the ‘shooting room’ was done. A great memory. Quinn smiled fondly as he looked at kate “Oh that's stella number when she used to play.” 

“And I'm guessing those are hers too” Kate laughed as she pointed at the light pink skates that had a bunch of different stickers on them, the laces pink as well. Quinn chuckles and nods as he looks back at the skate's jack had gotten her a year ago, while Luke got her a new pack of stickers “yeah those are stella’s, she likes coming down and shooting with us.” 

“Is she any good?” the producer asks, even though he already knew the answer. All the brothers have mentioned Stella's hockey skills before.  Quinn leans down to take off his skates, ready to show them the next thing on the schedule. Quinn smirks at the camera “She's my sister, of course she is.” 

At the end of the video the camera is filming all the guys playing a friendly skirmish, and you can see Stella sitting on the bench cheering for Cole who was on a breakaway! 

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I bet you all can guess who she was texting !!! I just know the fans would eat the content up !!! I know it’s short but I didn’t really want to put a lot of Stella in this video, just a perfect amount where the fans would want more of her !!! )

°. — taglist ( @privatemythss @cixrosie @toasttt11 @lxvelyzoe @bunbunbl0gs @lovings4turn x )

[angelltheninth]

A Fighter's Mark

Pairing: Sett x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, marking, biting, teasing, cum, post-sex, implied marathon sex

Word count: 0.4k

Ao3

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Sorry it's been a while guys. Life's been kicking my ass for the last month or so, been super busy with stuff! I think I'm gonna try posting some drabbles and going through some of my inbox, ya'll left such good request.

"Hold still beautiful, this cum ain't gonna clean itself." Sett kissed up your trembling thighs from behind. He'd just pulled out and you thought that was it for tonight. Apparently not, he has a few more things he would like to do before turning in.

You wiggled against his strong grip, breath coming out short and fast, still drooling and head spinning from how hard you came moments before. "I could clean up. I don't want to keep you up longer then I need to." Another low whine left your lips when Sett's fangs sunk into the soft flesh of your thighs, right at the right ass cheek. "Sett…"

He grinned, ear flicking against your skin as he mirrored the bite perfectly. His rough tongue licked upwards, all the way to your pussy and moaned when you bucked against him, "As far I can see there are still things to do. You know I never like to leave things half-way done. You serviced me so well with your pussy tonight, taking in all of my seed to be marked by me. But I'm afraid that's not good enough. I want my marks to be visible to everyone."

Everyone who ever met Sett knew he was unstoppable once he set his mind on a goal. Right now biting every inch of your thighs was that goal and he executed it with perfection, each bite carefully placed to make you squirm more. His fangs didn't break too much skin, he didn't want to hurt you, not tonight, you haven't asked him this time. If you had it would have been easier to leave marks on you.

"Your cunt looks lonely, empty like that. Need me to fill it again?" You sighed and nodded against the bed, the emptiness seemingly getting more distracting now that he's pointed it out.

"Don't make me want it again. It's late." That has never stopped him before but he has a big fight tomorrow. Sett always loved having sex before a big fight and showing you off to his defeated opponent afterwards, not only winning the fight but your affections once again. With his marks there will be quite a bit to look at.

Sett's bit your right ass cheek hard, smirking against the affected skin, "I'll do what I want. If anyone has a problem with they can talk with their fists. I want to fuck you again, turn you around and mark you all over your pretty body. Doesn't that sound like a good night to have?" It would be the best night to have.

Dividers by: @/cafekitsune

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

helloo! idk if youre taking requests, but if you do i was thinking of revenge era gee with fem reader who is also a well know singer. like shes on tour and does some festival mcr is playing at and shes really mainstream so the guys dont have high expectations on her music but then they watch her play and they're like "fuck, she actually does know what shes doing" and somehow her and gee exchange numbers and start texting all day long bc theyre both on tour

idk if this makes any sense tbh.

i saw one picture of ts on the red tour that looks like if it was taken with a shitty flip phone and thought of this somehow

anyway, feel free to ignore this and have a good day :D

Title: Happily Ever Accident

A/N: Hey y'all I know it's been actually forever but I saw this in my inbox and thought it was cute so managed to somehow write this amidst midterms season. Idk how but it happened. It's also not thoroughly proof-read because tbh I'm tried and lazy right now. But here's some content for y'all for once. Also, side note, but as I was writing this I was visioning reader as a Sabrina Carpenter-esc figure. Just in the sense of popularity, stage presence, etc. Pairing: Gerard Way (circa mid-2005) x F!PopStar!Reader Word count: 7,978 words Warnings: Swearing, mentions of insecurity

Low expectations. The constant standard he had set for almost every single festival his band was expected to play.

It wasn’t that Gerard didn’t like other people’s music, or festivals for that matter, but considering the label had cornered them into a small handful of non-genre restrictive ones he was annoyed. The culture, the vibes, the people- this was not his place. Not his band’s place, for that matter.

But commercialism was the name of the game, he had learned that early on. He was lucky enough the label had allowed their last album to be artistically driven by him, from songs and lyrics to the artwork on the cover. But there is always a quid-pro-quo in the entertainment industry. And playing at a mainstream festival was apparently one of them.

They wouldn’t have agreed to this had their last music video not gone over budget by a significant amount, and now they were paying the price. On top of that the label had encouraged them to be in public, watch other bands play from the VIP tents. Gerard narrowly lost his shit after trying time and time again explain that they needed time to prep for their show, get in the proper mindset, and that would take all the morning into late afternoon when they were finally on. The label exec begged to differ, giving no ultimatum.

“Fucking hell, if we have to listen to another fucking basic pop artist I’m going to lose my mind.” Frank sighed walking through the festival grounds. The group was by no means blending in, as three security guards stood around them and they could easily hear and see people left and right gawking at them as if they were circus animals.

“Good fucking luck with that.” Ray replied. He was never the sarcastic type, if anything he was the most mature and level-headed. So when he had enough, everyone knew it was bad.

“We have one more.” Gerard too sighed, sticking his hands aggressively in his jean pockets. “Then we’re off the fucking hook.” The group took sighs of relief out of sync.

“Who is it?” Frank asked, seeming halfway curious.

“Uh-“ Gerard stopped, checking his phone to see what their manager had texted them. “Great. Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“Fuck me.” Frank sighed. “My head is going to fucking explode. Listen, I like all music, but I cannot do this much commercial, manufactured pop.”

“I don’t know, her stuff doesn’t seem as bad as some of the others.” Mikey chimed in for the first time.

“How would you know? I’ve only heard her shit in Targets.” Frank speedily replied.

“Social media, I guess. Enough sound clips from her songs have blown up to make them pretty hard to miss.”

“I’m still keeping my expectations low.” Frank shrugged.

“It’s the last one, try to be somewhat positive.” Ray replied halfheartedly.

“We’re never going over budget on anything again.” Gerard quickly added, turning a corner to the next stage’s area. “I can’t fucking do this.”

She got nervous before shows. She was great at hiding it. But in the last few weeks every festival she was playing had crowds growing bigger and bigger. From what her manager had communicated to her approximately two minutes ago, she had the biggest recorded crowd so far for the second day.

Staring at herself in the mirror of the green room, she pushed every bad thought out of her mind. She even closed her eyes and imagined all the bad energy within her swooping out of her body in swirls of dust and being replaced with positive rays of sunshine. It might’ve been stupid, but it worked.

She opened her eyes, putting on her signature smile, looked herself up and down, reminded herself that she was incredibly sexy at the moment, and b-lined it for the door.

Anxiety be damned, her ambitions had gotten her this far and would get her further, she knew that much. She was happy at this point to be thrown into the group of “pop girlies” currently dominating the charts, because it meant she was catering to an already large fan base, and proving others wrong in their assumptions too.

Give a girl some platform boots, a tight outfit where the tops integrity around her chest was questionable, and a microphone- then you’ve got a pop star.

Gerard stood there amazed. He could not fucking believe it.

Three songs in and he was mesmerized. He wasn’t sure if he was more shocked with her or himself. He was trying to rack his brain for reasons to not like this, and blank answers came up time and time again.

To begin with, her songs were substantially above average for pop. They had creative instrumentals, catchy sounds, and her lyrics were truly the star of the show.

But then he took into account her as a person. She was quite attractive, sure. He had seen her enough online and in magazines to see at least that much, but he was sure most of the male population and a decent amount of the female population also saw that. But here, in this light, in that tight little outfit that showed off all the right things just enough to give a good idea, but still leave a good amount to the imagination, he was falling head over heels.

He was almost flustered with her perfection in his eyes, having to catch himself to make sure wasn’t staring like a dog at a bone. After all, there were enough people around to know him and take photos, which would lead to massive and weird speculation online that he simply didn’t want to deal with.

And her stage presence was empowering. She was confident, not selfish. She was sexy as much as she was innocent. She was clear in her intentions and messages, just as much when she left some ideas not fully complete to leave people longing and wondering.

Suddenly he understood all the teenage girls in the audience. She was fucking incredible.

“Told you.” Mikey said next to him with a smirk. It was hard for Gerard to look away from her, but he did. “Don’t always believe stereotypes man. You out of all people should know better.”

“That really wasn’t so bad after all.” Frank shrugged as the group walked back to their own green room, hidden in an array of tents set up on the edge of the festival grounds.

“Yeah, but standing in the heat for that long was exhausting.” Ray commented next, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. He was always tense until they got all the equipment set up and knew everything was going to go right.

“I don’t know man, that last show kinda rocked.” Mikey responded. “Been trying to tell you guys that not all pop artists are that bad.”

“Well, a lot of them are.” Frank quickly rebutted. “However, you are right, that last one was incredible. I just thought having a girlfriend who obsesses over pop music had gotten to your head.” Mikey rolled his eyes.

Gerard was silent, partially because he didn’t really have anything to say, and partially because he was hanging on to the last show. He learned through years of art school and sketching under cubicle lights that some of the best art was clear as day yet still left you thinking. That was how he felt at the moment. Dwelling in the really astounding feeling he had.

She had single handedly proved a lot of his fallacies wrong. And he saw with his very eyes how she managed to go from half the crowd being into her to the master tools her voice and movement had that puppeteer the crowd like a pro. Who was he kidding though- she clearly was a pro.

Turning a corner he was so lost in his thoughts, his body in auto drive and his vision turned to the cement ground. He knew he needed to stop thinking soon, get in the right headspace for his own show- and then he bumped into something.

His body lost a bit of its control as his right arm collided with something a bit smaller than him. Suddenly he regained all his consciousness as his stabled his footing again, turning his body to see what it was.

And there, low and behold, in those damn platform boots and an oversized hoodie that went so far down her thighs it was a dress, was the very woman who had captured his mind just minutes ago. She was lingering within him, and now she was right here.

Fate works in strange ways.

“Shit, I’m so sorry-“ She began, regaining her own balance as she clearly took more of a hit than he did given that she was shorter and had boots that, despite looking like they weighed a ton, he doubted helped to ground her any more.

“No, that was my fault.” He quickly interrupted, growing embarrassed as she looked up and he realized he had managed to be rude to her in the last 30 seconds not once but twice. “I should’ve been looking out.”

“Me too.” She calmly replied with a small smile, handing this with so much grace and calmness compared to his internal panic.

This close she managed to look even better than on the screens. Photos and videos didn’t do her beauty justice. She looked almost like a doll- near perfect features, beautiful hair, and a smile that was so comforting and cute and graceful. Her makeup was almost as perfect as it was when she went on, but her mascara was ever so smeared around the corner of her eyes, her lipstick fading, and hell- his mind couldn’t help but wander to a place where he wondered what it would be like if he had put her in this state. And then he shut those thoughts up as quickly as they appeared, choosing instead to wonder how anyone could be more perfect.

“I um- I better get going and leave you guys to get to your show.” She quickly said, but froze up not even a moment later, her eyes growing wide with embarrassment of her own. “Shit that was weird wasn’t it? I don’t know you but- well I do, kinda, but like not personally. I mean knowing your music and band and-“ she stopped talking not knowing what to say, her body almost shrinking in a sense of even more embarrassment. “Fuck. I’m gonna shut up now.”

Gerard gave a chuckle and a smile of his own. He felt better now that both of them felt embarrassed.

“No, it’s okay.” He replied. “We’re just coming from your show, actually.” Somehow she froze even more. He could tell under that huge gray hoodie her muscles had tensed further.

“Oh, uh, I hope you enjoyed it.” She softly smiled, polite but seeming almost nervous. Why was he so bad about talking to women, especially pretty ones?

“It was phenomenal, actually.” He replied, nervous himself and instinctively rubbing the back of his neck with one of his hands. There was already a thin layer of sweat connecting back there from standing in the heat for so long. But he didn’t care about that nor how he would survive the heat on his stage later- all he cared about right now was not completely fucking up this interaction with the woman in front of him.

“Are you just saying that to be nice?” She asked with a pouty lip as she clearly questioned the integrity of his response. He rapidly shook his head.

“No, of course not. I don’t lie- ever. If anything I went into the show not knowing much- not in a bad way, I mean kinda in an ignorant way if I’m being honest, and you just- fuck, man, the way you controlled that crowd was so exciting and empowering. It truly was incredible.”

Her face looked like a damn puppy dog begging for a treat. If he weren’t human he would have definitely melted by that look. Big eyes and a genuine smile, her cheeks big and emphasizing her reaction.

“That’s really sweet, thank you so much.” She replied, yet again with grace that he wished he had in these moments. “I um- while I would love to talk more I need to take a shower. I feel so sticky and just- gross. But it was really nice talking to you. And thanks so much for watching me, I really appreciate the feedback.”

His heart broke just a bit.

“Yeah, of course.” He replied, and before he could think he blurted out. “You’re more than welcome to come to ours as well, I mean I’m sure you have the artist VIP tent access, but if you wanna get closer I can definitely arrange a barricade pass for you.”

Her eyes lit up and glowed in a way he wished he could see every single day.

“That’s amazing!” She replied. “Would it be selfish to ask for one more too? My best friend is here and she likes you guys too-“

“Consider it done.” He smiled as she smiled back. “I’ll have my manager send them over to your trailer.”

“Thank you, that’s very sweet of you.” She replied.

“It’s the least I can do. Returning the favor of watching your show and providing feedback.”

“Does that mean I need to take notes for yours and give them to you too?” She asked with a playful smile. Just now he noticed the water bottle in her hand with a straw as she took a sip and damn- he quickly erased all the dirty thoughts that rushed into his mind before it was too late.

“Only if you want to.” Where had this confidence in him come from? He didn’t even know. But right now it was working, and that was all that mattered. Yet again, his body thought before his mind as he said, “Give me your number and we can arrange a meetup. To, ya know, exchange notes and whatnot.”

She seemed flustered, but hid it well. However, the red blush growing on her cheeks and her face that froze yet again for a mere moment told him maybe she wasn’t all that good at this either. But hey, there was a learning opportunity for both of them, he supposed.

“Sure.” She said, as he grabbed his phone, handing it to her as she quickly typed it in.

Y/F/N Y/L/N it read on his screen, the line of numbers under it.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/F/N.” He smiled.

“You too-“ She said, but stopped herself. “I know your first name but I don’t want to say it before you do because that’s creepy.”

He let out a genuine laugh.

“Gerard.” He said.

“Gerard.” She replied. “I’ll see you later, Gerard.”

“So what you’re telling me is Gerard Way wants to fuck you?” Lacey asked her. But she supposed this is why people had best friends- to be both supportive, honest, and borderline crude all at the same time.

“I don’t know if he wants to fuck me-“

“He wants to ‘exchange notes’ on your shows? Code words for ‘come back to my trailer and let’s have sex’.” She said with confidence, sitting down and scrolling through her own phone as Y/F/N changed into a solid black hoodie and jeans to not make her presence obvious. Their show was not about her, and she hoped her presence wouldn’t make it about her.

“Well, I don’t just fuck guys. And I’ll be happy to tell him that if he tries. But he seemed very sweet, and all the interviews of him lean towards him being a very nice guy.” Y/F/N responded quickly, borderline defensive.

“Nice guys can have hookups too, ya know.” Lacey said. She wasn’t wrong, but Y/F/N swore this felt different.

“Regardless, that’s not happening with me.”

“Preach, sister.” Lacy said with a bit of pop in her voice. “If what you’re saying is true, it did sound like you have him wrapped around your finger.”

“We talked for like two minutes. I barely know him, he barely knows me.” Y/F/N rolled her eyes, expertly reapplying her lip gloss in a small mirror.

“Do you know that amount of men after your shows that would fall on their knees and beg for you?” Lacey asked, finally looking up from her phone to make eye contact in the mirror.

“Whatever.” Y/F/N sighed. “I’m just excited we have barricade to a My Chem show. How long have we been wanting to see them?”

“A solid year.” Lacey admitted, standing up to find her shoes. “I’m still not over Gerard Way wanting to fuck you, though.”

Y/F/N was sure rumors would be circulating by morning. As soon as she entered the VIP barricade area alongside Lacey, there was a sudden eruption of screams, and as she looked over a sea of phones were taking photos and videos of her. She gave a polite smile and wave before turning back around towards the stage, hoping as soon as the band got on the attention was going to divert away from her.

Damn her for thinking having a black hoodie on with the hood up would prevent this.

Within minutes though, as the lights on the stage went pitch black and screams from the entire crowd erupted she knew that finally she could just enjoy seeing a band she really liked play from right in front of her. Perks of being a pop star or whatever.

She had to admit that the in-person performance easily knocked any of the recorded ones she saw online out of the fucking park. And while Gerard Way had always been objectively attractive, and happened to be the skinny sad white boy that was her type for whatever reason, he looked really attractive in this light. Like a new skin of confidence took over him. Maybe it was the tight black skinny jeans or fake bullet proof vest with no shirt on under it that perfectly sculpted his lightly muscular arms- and damn the hands. Masculine hands were one of her weaknesses. And his very much fit into that category.

So did she have any notes after the show? No, actually. It was exactly what she had expected, but two fold. She was left amazed and energized as they walked off.

If he really wanted to compare notes with her he was going to be sorely disappointed in the lack of notes she had.

That night did not end with them sharing notes about the others show. Instead, it ended with them sitting on a grassy patch of the festival grounds when it emptied out talking about anything and everything. Gerard had quickly realized how multi-faceted of a person Y/F/N was. Every preconceived notion he had of her was torn down by her random knowledge about random things, her admissions to cringey teen phases she had, cute childhood stories, dichotomy of family and how difficult that could be to navigate.

She was fucking perfect inside and out. And he knew he couldn’t lose her.

In an assertive nature he decided to text her more through the next week. She was on tour in one town, and he was in another. But that didn’t matter. Every other day, or three days apart maximum, they would call from their hotel rooms, or from outside his bus, and talk. About everything. Their days, their histories. What they ate, what they did or didn’t like, who they saw, where they were next, what they wanted to do, asking the other about cool things to do in the city they were in for that day.

And finally, a little less than two weeks after they met, they had that talk.

“So what are we?” She asked over the phone, sitting on her bed and nervously picking at her brightly colored nails. She needed to know before she got too attached and her heart broken further down the line when she was way deeper in than she was now. Not that rejection now wouldn’t hurt- she was trying to save herself from more potential hurt later.

“Seeing each other?” He asked. “I mean, no pressure- we can always take it slower.“

“I would like for us to be ‘seeing each other’.” She replied with a smile growing on her face.

“Great, then we’re seeing each other.” He decided, she could hear the small smile in his own voice despite not seeing him.

“We have a four day break coming up.” He mentioned on a call. A few weeks had blown by, and things felt very normal between them given how abnormal their situation was.

“Okay.” She replied simply, wanting him to go on.

“I want to come see you, if that’s okay.”

“Okay.” She replied again, not hesitant- but a mixture of excited and logistically starting to play a mind puzzle about how this was going to work.

“Just okay?” He asked, now sounding more hesitant himself but equally as confused.

“No, I just mean- like, yes, please come, I really want to see you, but if people see us together again, I think it will kinda be obvious. I- it’s not that I don’t want to show you off, but I kinda like the direction we’re going in now. I don’t want public speculation or opinion to fuck that up.”

Even in a fucking baseball cap and sunglasses at her show, people would grow suspicious of that figure in the secluded family/friends area. They would equally as quickly figure out, judging by the firestorm online caused by her presence at their show the night they met, who it was. And then they would be official without actually saying anything. Just by being together.

She wouldn’t mind being official to the public, eventually. But she wanted more time to have just them to herself.

“I can stand off to the side behind the stage.” He offered.

“Your view is gonna suck.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Okay then.” She replied affirmatively.

“Okay?” He asked for clarification.

“Yes, okay.” She softly smiled with a giggle. “Come to the shows, I even have a hotel room booked one of the nights.”

“Oh fancy.” He replied with a chuckle. “Lookin’ forward to it.”

She shouldn’t have been nervous. He had seen her perform before.

Well once- the first time they met, and then twice on TV in the last few weeks since her career had managed to blow up even further. But this felt different. It was different.

She knew he could now have expectations of her. What if he didn’t like something, or got the ick from the way she danced or what if she fucked up? What if she tripped on stage for the first time or bumped into something or forgot a lyric or her voice went out-

“On in two.” She heard one of the stage techs say, peeking their head through her green room door. As if one queue, she heard a roar of screams from the direction of the stage, queueing that her little intro video had started. Despite still playing smaller venues, at least ones smaller than arenas, her label had actually been willing to put quite the production into her tour after realizing that her stage presence and personality was one of the things that charmed audiences so much.

She gave herself one final look over in the mirror. Her opening outfit was standard- a body con number decked out in black sequence with red accents and her infamous knee high boots that were plain leather, but that she had begun to notice were also being worn more commonly by fans to her shows. It was one of those trademark things that made her feel more like the pop star she was growing to be. At least the headlines called her that.

Taking her hands, she fluffed out her hair a bit more giving her light waves more volume, dropping them, closing her eyes, and reopening them in her stage persona.

She walked out of the door beginning her strut with the sense of confidence she only gained to this level when she knew she was going to be on stage. As she approached side stage, her bedazzled microphone with her initials on it in small rhinestones at the bottom was waiting for her with one of the stage assistance. She gave him a small smile and nod as a thank you, taking it delicately and wrapping her hand around it firmly.

Her in-ear monitored queued up with her sound guy, Jeremy, who gave her the 20 second warning. She allowed herself one final deep breath, realizing this was her time to shine. Even if he was here for the first time watching her as the guy she was seeing, and just generally in a new light, she recalled meeting him for the first time after a show, figuring if she could impress him once maybe she could do it again.

After all, the version of herself that managed to get his attention in the first place was the one who was about to step into the spotlight in a mere three seconds.

Sweaty, hot, tired, worn, happy. The best ways to describe how she felt almost every night coming off stage.

She felt great about this show. The crowds she was dealing with were getting better at each stop, she figured it was venues being sold out and her rapid growth as an artist that was to thank for their enthusiasm and their increased screaming of her own lyrics back to her.

But what made this show so special was seeing him in one of the boxes up and over from the crowd. He kept a low profile with a plain t-shirt and baseball cap, standing next to Lacey through the entire duration, but the occasional eye contact they made was what kept her going.

He was always at least smiling at her. If not he was beaming, or nodding, swaying to the music, and her favorite was when he was so focused on just her that she caught his lower lip being bitten, his eyes glued straight onto her. She knew she always had most if not all of the crowd in a trance- but tonight his attention was the one she really wanted.

She giggled at something her manager had said as they walked through the back hallways of the venue, sipping on her bottled water through a straw and trying to regain as much hydration and energy as possible. As the turned a corner toward the green room, she paused and gave a big toothy smile as she saw him at the end of the hallway.

There was Gerard, still in his relatively incognito outfit, and a full smile as their eyes met. As fast as she could manage to run in her boots, she made her way down the hall and collided with his torso, breaking out into a fit of giggles as he hugged her back.

“Did you like it?” She asked first, letting her chin fall on his chest as she looked up at him with big doe eyes hoping for a good answer.

“You fucking killed it.” He said affirmatively with a smile, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. “You’re absolutely insane out there. Such a natural- fuck, I wish I had half the confidence and ability you do when I’m on stage.”

“Oh stop it!” She playfully and lightly hit his shoulder as she backed away to walk back to her room with him. In the process he swiftly grabbed her hand in his, intertwining their fingers which made her smile even more. “Don’t give yourself any less credit- you’re a fucking beast on stage.” He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the head.

“But nothing like you.” He replied, holding the door open for her as they entered back in so she could change.

She quickly and stealthily changed into a shirt and sweatpants, sitting down to take her makeup off, or at least that’s what she would typically do. But as she sat and looked at herself in the vanity mirror, catching a glimpse of him in the back scrolling on his phone, she wasn’t so sure she felt all that confident with him in person without all of this on.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, catching her in a trance. Damn, why did he have to be so good on picking up these things?

“Nothing.” She said with a soft smile. His body language with a raised eyebrow implied he definitely did not believe that. “I just- should I take my makeup off?” She asked turning to him. He gave her an even more confused look.

“Is it what you normally do?” He asked and she nodded. “Then yeah, take your makeup off.” She didn’t move, still staring at him. “Baby, what’s wrong- actually?” She groaned.

“It’s so stupid.” She admitted, now looking away from him. “I just- I don’t want you to like, I don’t know, not like me without this on.”

He looked a bit shocked and confused at look, but it quickly melted into sympathy.

“Sweetheart, take your makeup off.” He requited with a sweet tone. “I promise you, I will not view you any differently without makeup on. That is such a minor thing. And I’m not with you for your looks- I mean, you are fucking gorgeous- but that’s with or without makeup.”

“Fine.” She replied, grabbing some of her cotton pads and makeup remover, then going to town on delicately running them over her skin and cleaning everything off.

Once she was done, only a few minutes later, she grabbed her bag and regular shoes, slipping them on and getting up to approach him where he leaned next to the door. As soon as she was a few inches from him, he delicately took her face in his hands.

“See, just as gorgeous as always.” He softly smiled, giving her a soft and passionate kiss. She offered a sheepish smile and a growing blush on her cheeks.

“Thank you.” She nervously replied. “We gotta go though- I’m fucking starving.”

“Holy shit.” She said, taking another forkful of pasta and placing it into her mouth. “This is so fucking good.”

“Mhm.” He nodded in agreement taking a bite of his own. It was nice to have some company to actually eat with, and not just pull out her laptop to watch a show or call her parents who were halfway across the country. Now, she had her boyfriend laid across the bed sideways in front of her as she sat criss cross at the head.

“You want a bite?” She asked. He looked at her skeptical for a moment before nodding, allowing her to grab another few pieces, giving them to him.

“Well, shit.” He sighed with a smile. “That is fucking amazing.” She nodded in agreement. There was a brief moment of silence that followed.

“I hate that we have to go back to being, like- normal.” She said. It was one of those thoughts that just spilled out without her even thinking.

“Hm?” He asked, looking up with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Ya know, like being apart for so long.” She said with a tight smile. “We’ve barely spent any time together in person but every time we do I want to spend more and more- and we can’t.” He sighed, putting his fork down in his container.

“I know, baby.” He softly said, taking his now free hand and placing it on her bare thigh, rubbing small circles into the skin with his thumb. “But it’s only another month- then we’re on break and I’ll come be with you as long as you want.”

“Gee, you should get a break.” She said with a serious face. “You need to go home and settle for a few weeks and be with your family and friends there who you haven’t seen in fucking forever.” He shrugged.

“I’ve had all the time in the world to make relationships with them- I want to continue to build ours, and if that means going on tour with you than so be it.” He replied with confidence.

“Even if we do that people will speculate and- we would have to go public.” She explained.

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“No, but,” She took a moment to think, making eye contact with him again as his eyes begged hers for answers. “I don’t want to keep you or us a secret. I would love to show and brag about my super cool, super talented, super hot boyfriend to the world, but I want to keep it private.” He smiled lightly and nodded.

“Then let’s do it.” He said, affirmatively. “We’ll take it at your pace. Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.”

He had been on tour with her for a full week. And it was becoming unbearable how many things were circulating around.

It started at the first show he came to- a solid handful of people had noticed him and put a name to the face, despite his attempt to remain to himself. A small firestorm erupted online over the alleged rumors. The headlines abusing taboos and cliches of the “pop princess and rockstar” trope that made people go crazy.

Then he actually began coming on tour. She wasn’t sure she had been happier on any other leg of it, until he was there to watch every show, and take her out when she had breaks to his favorite spots in each city, and then end the night in her queen sized “suite” on the back of her bus if you could even call it that. She had even bought more storage bins for under the bed to make room for his things.

But people didn’t need to see all the stolen and sudden kissed, or hysterical fits of laughter, or constant touching that were soft reminders of the other. They didn’t need to know about all the photos they had taken of each other, or the memories made, or the lyrics and words that began filling her songbook as she wrote almost exclusively now about him. At least yet.

But on day nine of them being on her tour together, she couldn’t take the speculation anymore. She couldn’t ignore all the photos taken of him at her shows, or the videos that replayed her not-so-obvious smiles and slow hip movements while making direct eye contact with him. In all fairness, she wasn’t trying to hide it.

People could see moments and snippets of their love. But she wouldn’t let them see the whole thing.

“What d’you think?” She asked, the back of her head leaning against his shoulder as they both looked at her phone. It was a simple story draft for her Instagram of the two of them just a few nights ago walking into a gas station. Not the most romantic thing, but her makeup artist had managed to catch it at one of their stops late at night.

The lighting was perfect and almost vintage aesthetic, offering a slight blur to the photo. It was the two of them holding hands as they walked in, both with hoodies and sweatpants on. Only half her face was shown, brightly smiling up at him, and only the back of his head was shown as a mop of slightly messy slightly put-together black hair.

“I love it.” He said with a small smile, giving her a kiss on the top of the head. In the bottom corner she had just put a small black heart, meant to be a small clue.

“Okay,” She smiled. “I think I’m gonna post it.” She said, looking up at him. “You okay with this?”

“Of course.” He genuinely smiled back. “I don’t mind at all.”

Before she could second guess she hit the post button, immediately turning off her phone and throwing it to the edge of the bed.

“It’s done.” She said with big eyes and a giddy tone. “Like, we’ve confirmed.”

“Mhm,” He nodded with a small chuckle, “We have confirmed.” He leaned down to give her a soft kiss, not even a few seconds later his phone buzzed.

He reached over to grab it, smiling at the screen, and showing her.

I was wondering when you guys were gonna post something. Mikey had sent. It’s been fucking long enough.

She should’ve stopped staring after a few seconds, but she couldn’t help it. She rarely felt this confident in herself, but just as quickly as the adrenaline boost of self love hit her, the sobering of imperfections came knocking too.

Dressed in a long green strapless dress that was built to just fit her, she looked and felt like a Barbie. Her makeup team had really done quite an impressive and good number on her face, exemplifying all her good features perfectly, and covering up or minimizing the ones she didn’t like so much. Her hair hung in a low, sleek pony tail against her back, her nails for once long with extensions that would be removed for sure in the next two to three days.

“You’re absolutely perfect, ya know that?” She heard him, turning around to find her boyfriend with a big smile as one of his hands placed itself lightly on the small of her back. She softly smiled up at him, and he swore his heart skipped a beat and nearly sent him into cardiac arrest the way her big eyes stared right into his.

“Not necessarily, but thank you.” She responded in a small voice. She always got nervous before events- he learned that quickly after having to be on text and call standby as she repeated her own self-doubts while spiraling about things going wrong. No one would have ever known- her presence on carpets, stages, and everything in between was flawless.

And now here they stood for the first time together doing this. Him in a traditional and well-fit suit, her in the dress that would put anyone else wearing the color green to shame. He gave her one good look up and down (what was realistically the dozenth already), relishing in the fact that he was merely an accessory to her- and was blessed to be one at that.

There were already rumors circulating everywhere about the potential for them to show up together tonight. It was the ideal place to hard launch, and after dating for just over six months it finally felt like a good time to let the world see them together in all their glory. She was feeling more confident in him, and he was honestly just along for the ride- a very happy passenger too.

“How do we act?” She asked next, his hand still sat on her back as she leaned more into him so their bodies were no more than two inches apart.

“Like how we normally act.” He replied confidently. “I’m not sure anyone will be genuinely surprised- people have been expecting this.”

“When people set expectations about things they don’t know, it typically doesn’t work out the way they want.” She replied quickly.

He knew better than to ruin her hair or makeup, but at this moment he couldn’t see her for that, so he leaned in without hesitation and gave her a soft kiss as an attempt to calm her nerves.

“We’re not here to appease to anyone’s wants or expectations of us.” He explained in a tone just above a whisper, as if they weren’t the only two people in the room. “We’re here to be with each other- not to explain us.”

It was a relative blur, and she thanked the blinding lights of paparazzi that overtook her vision and senses as soon as they took a single step onto the carpet together. She had never heard the two of their names meshed together so many times in such a short period of time. It felt weird to hear them coming out together from other people’s mouths- but it also felt reaffirming.

His hand had initially snuck around her back, resting itself on the other side of her waist and pulling her close to him. The slight warmth from his body made her feel okay, an emotion she typically had to forcefully place at bay here but was tamed solely by him.

They gradually moved their way down at the instruction of the event staff, and narrowly at the last stop he leaned in to whisper to her, hiding his lips behind the back of her head to not let anyone get a chance to overhear what he was going to say.

“I think I have a new appreciation for my name when it’s next to yours.” He said with a small smile, pulling away and looking down at her.

She couldn’t help herself but to break out into a bigger smile, one that wasn’t posed for the cameras but more authentic. She usually hated her full smile, the cheekiness and roundness of her face making the pictures look unbearable to her, but in that moment it didn’t matter. She playfully nudged him a bit as he resumed his position with his arm around her waist, but this time she placed her hand on his chest, angling herself towards him.

He authentically smiled, not expecting it, and had to resist the urge running deep within him to kiss her. But no one here deserved to see that part of them- no one here deserved to know her like he did.

“New album stuff?” He asked, walking over to the living room with a “new” cup of coffee in his hands (this was his third refill in the last two hours). She nodded from where she sat on the floor, back against the bottom of the vintage arm chair she fell in love with and insisted on having to decorate their new place. Their place.

Gerard had always respected her boundaries with her music. She was being incredibly secretive about her upcoming project- despite it essentially being finished from what he had gathered- but he also knew incredibly well how labels worked. And despite both of them being in the industry, her upcoming album was expected to be gigantic. Both in the reception of it and in the work itself.

“They just began pressing all the vinyls.” She smiled up at him.

“When are you gonna see it?” He asked back, sitting down on the couch and leaning over the coffee table to grab his sketch book and pencils again.

“Hopefully within two weeks.” She shrugged. “That’s if everything goes right. Not that I think it won’t- there’s just… a lot.” He looked up for his eyes to meet her, giving her a sympathetic look and nod.

“Regardless of how it goes, you have worked your ass off for this.” He explained. “Critics will always say shit because they’re jaded and subjective. Most of them haven’t even made music. And your fans are gonna love anything you put out.” She softly smiled back.

“Thanks.” She said. “I can’t wait for you to hear it.”

“Don’t you have the entire record on your computer?” He asked, eyeing the laptop that sat in her lap. She rolled her eyes.

“It’s not that simple.” She replied, closing it and getting up. “Besides, I want it to be a surprise.” She finished, walking over to him and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“So are you flattered or what?” Their manager approached where he sat on the bus. He was so lost in the trance of finding the necklace that she had been dying to get for ages online as a surprise album release gift that he didn’t hear a thing.

“Hm?” He asked looking up at him.

“You’re the muse for the number one song on Billboard right now.” His manager replied with a small smile, arms crossed over each other.

“Right.” He awkwardly responded.

He was, indeed, the quite obvious muse for her first single, which happened to somehow skyrocket on the charts as soon as it released and within a few days was impossible not to hear. Whether it be radio, playlists, grocery stores, social media- the damn song was everywhere.

By no means was he upset, he just wasn’t expecting it. He was actively figuring out how to deal with the amount of empty and comical threats he got from fan accounts saying they were fully prepared to fight him if it meant even a shot at being with her. Also, while he had approved of the lyrics she had showed him (well, specifically the incredibly, borderline obvious, suggestive ones) it still made him feel a blush grow on his face when he heard them over and over again.

And the fucking cherry on top was the music video. At this point, he had seen her in many different ways, doing many different things (if you catch the drift) but as soon as he watched it he felt like he was falling for her all over again, ten-fold this time. It also made him begin to seriously question why the fuck you were with him, and simultaneously wonder if all the manifesting bull shit the merch girl was telling them about was something he should look into given that he needed some form of magic to get someone so out of his league.

“Good luck when the album drops, man.” His manager smiled, “Can’t wait to see all the teenage girls that want to band together and fight you.”

Gerard didn’t drink anymore and hadn’t for a while. But he did stare with a smile as she took a shot of tequila and her face immediately grew into a sour and twisted expression.

“Fuck that was worse than I remember.” She said through a small cough, grabbing the water by her and downing a chunk of it.

The low-key album release party was being held at their place. It was primarily close friends, the one producer she worked with on the record and her engineer, then the band as well as some of Gerard’s friends. Despite it being small, the place was buzzing under the dimmed lighting as there was consistently multiple conversations happening in the background, solid laughter mixed in too, and her album playing track by track in order softly in the background.

She sat on the floor, back against the couch, in a simple shirt and jeans, him right behind and next to her sat on the couch. She wasn’t drunk, but was definitely tipsy as she laid her head on his jean clad knee. He looked down at her with a smile, running a hand through her loose hair.

“I love you so much.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you for being such an incredible muse.”

He had been complimented plenty of times by critics, reporters, fans- but nothing even came remotely close to that comment.

“Baby, this is all you.” He insisted with a smile back. “We wouldn’t be here if you weren’t so damn incredible at everything you do.”

She sighed happily, closing her eyes for a moment.

“I’m so fucking glad you bumped into me.” She said. “I was so pissed at first and so tired and hot and sweaty- I thank the universe everyday for making that happen.”

“I do too, sweetheart.” He said, letting his smile melt into a sincere and content one. It only felt right. “I do too.”

[lilithschosen]

Hello. It is becoming rapidly apparent I am probably should not be working, but alas, I must wage slave regardless. Could I perhaps beg you to write them getting it on freaky style? I go so feral for sub/bottom Rio like. Ohhhh my god. Thinking about Rio bordering on tears Begging for it + squirting strap 🫣 Overstimulation maybe. perhaps even a sprinkling of mommy kink if you feel so inclined.

*brushes off cobwebs from this prompt* oh hey, buddy. hey. how's it goin? you've been in my inbox for a while, i'm sorry. don't worry, your eyes will adjust to the sudden light.

anyway lmao

"Kneel."

Rio looks over her shoulder, hands against the top drawer of her dresser. She doesn't move, causing Agatha to grunt in annoyance.

She kicks Rio's feet apart and grabs her by the waist. Rio snaps forward, barely able to hold herself over it. Agatha slides her hand between Rio's thighs, pressing herself crotch first against Rio's ass.

"I said," she growls in Rio's ear, the thick bulge underneath her sweatpants pinning Rio against the dresser. "Kneel."

Rio's hands slowly drop from the drawer, reaching back to touch Agatha only for her arm to be bent behind her back and shoved down to the ground with a thud.

"You wanna play stupid, yeah?"

Rio shook her head, facing the dresser. She holds a moment before slowly turning her shoulders to test the waters. Agatha doesn't stop her, instead allowing her girlfriend to fully face her while remaining on her knees.

She cups her jaw, calloused hands brushing against soft skin and tracing lines across her throat with the back of her fingers.

"You're always prettiest on your knees."

Rio melts in Agatha's palm, pupils dilating. Agatha smirks from the reaction, other hand reaching for her waistband. Rio's eyes widen with anticipation, flicking between Agatha's face and the hand starting to tug at the fabric.

"Oh?" Agatha questions, voice thick with condescension. "Is there something you want, sweet girl?"

"Just need you, daddy."

The pet name.

The title.

Agatha wets her lips before she grins. "What else, baby?"

Rio's eyes fall to the now still hand against Agatha's waistband, her pinky and ring finger fully underneath. "Your cock."

Agatha hums, middle finger flipping underneath the waistband but moving no further.

"Mommy wants daddy's cock?" Rio presses her thighs together as she nods. "How bad?"

Rio reaches up with both hands, touching the top of Agatha's clothed thighs. She inches them closer in tandem toward the bulge until she can wrap her hands around the thick length through her pants, mouth falling open.

"Really, really," Rio begins, looking up through her lashes while she moves her face toward her hands and away from Agatha's palm on her jaw. "Really badly."

She lifts her hands up while they're still clasped around the toy, and presses and open mouth kiss against the shaft.

Her wet mouth soaks the light grey of the fabric, leaving behind darkened imprints.

"Jesus."

Agatha runs her fingers through her hair, throwing it back behind her head and out of her face. Her other hand fully dips underneath her pants and grabs at the toy underneath, pulling it away from Rio's hands and up over the waistband.

Rio immediately spots which toy it was, the small hole at the tip being the dead giveaway.

"Go ahead," Agatha rasps, "Get it nice and wet before I fuck you."

Rio wastes no time, plump lips wrapping around the head of the toy. She hollows her cheeks and relaxes her throat as she welcomes the length in with practiced ease.

Agatha's clit throbs against the harness, watching with rapt attention while her girlfriend sucks her silicone cock.

She can feel it.

The phantom touch between her legs.

Rio's hot, wet mouth against her and not just around some silicone toy.

She feels it and wants more.

Agatha grips the toy at the base, pulling out of Rio's mouth entirely. Rio frowns at the loss, saliva dribbling out past her lips.

"Take your fucking pants off."

Agatha drops to her knees, shifting Rio forward on her elbows before she could even get a chance to do as she was told. She settles behind her, ripping off Rio's plaid pajama pants, and thrusts the toy between her thighs. The shaft of the toy rubs against her clit through her underwear and she chokes a surprised moan.

"God, I bet you're dripping. So ready for me to fill you up."

Rio groans, grinding her hips against the toy forced between her legs. Agatha barks a laugh, hand on Rio's ass as she fucks the length in and out.

"Please, daddy," Rio begs, holding her forearms underneath her and lifting her backside further up to entice Agatha. "Need you. Fuck me, I need it."

Agatha's eyes flutter shut at the fragment of sensation of Rio's thin, cotton underwear against the toy. Almost as if she could feel Rio's arousal beginning to soak through the fabric.

"Keep begging," Agatha claps her palm against Rio's ass cheek. "I don't believe you."

Rio whines, rocking against Agatha harder and more determined. "Daddy, please!"

Agatha keeps her movements, pistoning the toy between Rio's thighs. "Louder."

Rio swallows hard, the heat in her lower belly building with each drag of the toy.

"I need you so fuckin' bad," she slurs her words, overwhelming drool in her mouth making it hard to speak. "Need you to fuck me, fill me. Breed me."

The words send a jolt of electricity through Agatha's spine and she snaps her hips forward hard. She leans over Rio's back and bites down on her shoulder.

Rio cries out, throwing her ass back into Agatha's hips. "Please!"

Agatha shoves her underwear to the side, dragging the toy against her drenched folds until she slips fully out and teases the tip into her entrance.

"Are you sure you need it?"

Rio groans, slamming her hips back and sheathing the full toy inside of her with ease. "Oh, fuck."

Agatha was too stunned to speak, her cock now filling Rio to the brim in an instant.

She can't control herself, imagining the pure heat of Rio's cunt stretching to fit her entirely.

All for her.

"You were fucking made for me," Agatha's nostrils flare while her hands take hold of Rio's hips. "This pussy is mine. Always mine."

She pulls out again, watching as the toy reappears from Rio's core now coated in her slick. Rio mewls out from the sudden emptiness before Agatha rushes to fill her again.

"Yes!"

Agatha thrusts in and out hard, hips drilling the toy with an immediate and bruising pace. Rio can only groan with each impact of Agatha's strap against her cervix.

"Tell me you love it," Agatha starts to pant, hips slapping into Rio's backside, "Tell me you love daddy's cock."

Rio gasps, her hips dropping from the unrelenting pace. Agatha doesn't bother to lift her again, instead continuing to fuck her into the floor.

"I-I love your cock!"

Agatha lifts a hand from Rio's waist and grabs a fistful of her hair, tilting her head back while she keeps fucking her.

"That's it, mommy," Agatha chuckles through her breathing, "Take it. Take my fucking cock, and take my fucking load."

Rio's brain clouds over, her orgasm building rapidly. She can only moan jumbles sounds of words, holding her forehead against the plush carpet of their bedroom floor.

"Gonna cum in you and fuck it back in."

Agatha reaches for the black syringe attached to the dildo, the one she tucked at her hip and previously filled with the white, silky lubricant.

"Please," Rio shouts, eyes rolling into her head as her walls tighten around the toy, "Cum in me, daddy. Fill me. Need to feel you so deep."

Agatha clenches her jaw as she holds her thumb against the plunger of the syringe, fucking Rio hard and fast. She feels it at the base of her spine and connects to the toy with each thrust moving her closer and closer to her undoing.

"So close," she mutters, hips stuttering a half pump into Rio's pussy before she regains herself. "Give it to me, baby."

Rio screams out Agatha's name, partially muffled from the carpet and Agatha slams down on the plunger. She fills Rio with the silky lube, toes curling as she cums as well.

Agatha rocks her hips into the harness, her own pleasure running down her leg while she holds down on the plunger to make sure every drop was inside of Rio.

"That's my girl," Agatha coos, still fucking the toy in and out of Rio through both of their orgasms, "Take it. Fucking take it."

Rio whimpers, body limp underneath Agatha. She feels so deliciously full, only able to roll her head to the side and exhale loudly while her brain reboots.

Agatha pumps the toy in once, twice, then a third final time before pulling out entirely. The silky, white lubricant bubbles out of Rio's cunt, pooling out underneath her and Agatha groans at the sight of it.

"You need to be filled like that more."

Agatha pulls apart Rio's folds with a thumb, eyes focused on nothing but her cum seeping out from Rio. Committing the sinful image to memory.

Rio's eyelids were too heavy to fight against, instead just flexing her calf muscles in a halfhearted attempt to move. Agatha bites down on her lower lip, fingers extending out to dig into the flesh of Rio's ass as she exhales a content, happy sigh.

Her other hand catches the dribbles of the lube, the silky white mixing with Rio's release so deliciously she didn't want to see it all wasted when a thought crosses her mind.

"What's your colour, baby?"

Rio opens an eye, lifting up on her elbows. Head turned to try to look at Agatha, she croaks out a tentative "green" before falling back down.

"Good girl."

She coats the combination of their cum around her fingers before she tucks them into Rio's cunt.

Two fingers curled down to hit the spongy spot just inside beyond her pubic bone. Rio chirps in surprise, biting down on her tongue accidentally while her body lurches up to pull off of Agatha's fingers. She was sore, but oh so wet.

"No," Agatha scolds, moving forward to catch Rio and stop her retreat. "You said green, hon. I'm not done with you."

She fits three fingers inside of Rio quickly, fanning them apart before pulling them out and filling her again.

"Fu-uck," Rio hiccups, her hips barely able to lift from the floor while Agatha begins to fuck her with her fingers. "Daddy, please."

Agatha's upper lip twitches, nearly pulling up into a snarl at the immediate begging. "Already, sweetheart?"

The tone strikes her core. The cold, condescending line while she can feel Rio's cunt fluttering and sucking her digits in as deep as they can.

Rio groans with a low, raspy sound from her chest. She nearly creeps forward again away from Agatha before she's stopped with a firm, flat palm on her lower back.

"You're gonna give me one more," Agatha stares plainly, the vein in her bicep more prominent as she increases her thrusts. "You hear me? Give me another."

She pistons her hand harder and faster, nowhere near how she can fuck Rio with a harness but still just as good. The noises falling from Rio's lips start loud and desperate, but quickly dissolve into tiny choking sounds as if she were struggling to even breathe from it all.

Agatha smiles with too many teeth and a wild look in her eye. "That's it, come on. Cum for daddy."

It's too much for Rio, having barely recovered from the intense orgasm earlier. She pinches her eyes closed to fight back the tears brimming from just how overwhelming it all was.

White hot pleasure rocks her to the depths of her soul while her body immediately tenses. She digs her hands into the carpet, holding herself steady as she coats Agatha's hand in her desire. The remnants of the cum lube manages to dribble out around Agatha's slowing fingers, pumping them in and out before she finally pulls out entirely to enjoy the mess she's made of the woman underneath her.

She pats Rio's ass with her wet hand, smug at the vision before her. "Daddy's proud of you, sweet girl."

Rio grunts, bordering on the verge of sleep after everything. Agatha sheds the strap from her waist, setting it on the floor before scooping Rio up in her arms with ease.

"We'll clean up in the morning," she presses a brief, sweet kiss to Rio's cheek, "Let's get you in bed before we both hate ourselves in the morning from sleeping on the floor. Again."

[bernardsbendystraws]

Buckle up, get strapped in…

TW: dad lecturing you while you do math at 3 am vibes

We’re all gonna sit and talk because I’m over it. Every time I voice my opinion, people have an issue. This didn’t always used to happen. It only started occurring when I gained a following.

I can’t block people without being put on blast for being “unreasonable.” I can’t support smaller creators without being “cliquey.” I can’t express any sort of opinion, even if it’s in a respectful manner with valid points and suggestions.

The point is, a tour isn’t necessary. There’s other methods of interacting with fans that the triplets could try. Tours are expensive and exclusive given the location and accessibility. It’s fine if you want to go. I’m not saying you can’t and I’m not saying you shouldn’t. Do what makes you feel happy and content.

This is not hate and hasn’t been hate. I’ve not said anything that was false information. The triplets have been promising better content. They let go of the podcast, Wednesday videos, streams, and even potentially the Friday photo dumps. It’s not an invalid opinion if it’s based off of truth.

I love these boys, I really do. They’ve helped me through hard times. They’ve shared such incredible content that I will always wanna come back to and relive memories. But, I do not pick one side of things. A lot of you guys do. Depending on my take, I either get called a hater or a glazer. I can’t be both. I’m simply a fan with an opinion. And for some reason me having an opinion with actual reasoning bothers some of you. You clip my words, twisting everything. You’re not even trying to understand.

I’m not hating. I never said the triplets should just be canceled or whatever the fuck else. I’m saying it simply doesn’t make logical sense. Fan interaction can happen in better ways. They could travel internationally, making videos trying snacks or doing wtv, making meet and greets or pop up shops. I’m not saying it’s just stupid. I’m saying there’s better options and that the previous tours have shown they need to look into different options.

I’m sick of being blasted on other platforms and people specifically targeting me for having an opinion. I can’t even just block since apparently that causes more problems. I’m not a soft spoken person. I never have been and I never will be. My opinion is loud and it always has reasoning. This only became an issue when I became a bigger blog and I am quite honestly sick of it.

Go ahead and say I act like a celebrity. Truth is, I don’t. I voice my opinion like everyone else. I block people like everyone else. I do all the things everyone else does, but it’s a problem when I do it. Why? Because I don’t act like a celebrity, some of you treat me like one.

With all that being said, my inbox got blown up today. I get wanting to vent and share your reasoning, but unless it is something new, I won’t be replying. I’m disappointed but being negative won’t help me feel any better. It also isn’t gonna reverse the announcement.

I’ve shared my opinion and as more information comes to surface, I might talk more. However, I’d like to enjoy posting and absorbing content on here. I don’t wanna answer a bunch of asks saying the same things that remind me of the disappointment, so I simply won’t be. If you need to vent, please go talk to a friend. Or post on your own account.

Disrespectfully, fuck off. I will block any indirect posts made about me. And I better not see any damn complaints because if you make me uncomfortable, I have every right to block you! You’re fucking weird if you do that shit.

With love and big tits, Rose

[yeahspider]

goodnight n go ❄️

a/n- finally finished this draft from 11 months ago. (yeah I suck ik) but then I didn't really finish it bc the ending is a tad abrupt. but that's just kinda how I am. this is a cute lil angst/comfort fic featuring felix (my beloved) very sfw and gn reader. enjoy and feel free to stop by my inbox with requests!! happy reading beloveds <3

Long distance was never easy. You both knew this when you started dating. But Felix was convinced you could make it work.

You met him accidentally. Spending a semester in Korea was turning out to be a more lonely experience than you ever could’ve imagined. You often found yourself counting down the days until you could leave. But then you met Felix, and all of a sudden, you wanted to stop the clock.

But unfortunately, freezing time wasn’t a skill you possessed. So as you packed your final items in your bag you thought about the first time you met him.

It was a warm day. Sun was shining occasionally through the clouds as you leaned your head against the cafe window. Today was going terribly. You were late to your classes because you overslept and then your professor was kind enough to let you know that you were one bad grade away from falling the semester. Not even your favorite green tea latte could brighten your day. Until he asked to sit with you. And all of a sudden you didn’t need the sun . he shined brighter than it ever could. Smile sparkling in the light of the cafe. He was gorgeous, so of course you said yes.

Laptop open you tried to concentrate on your lecture notes but the way he smelt was distracting. Consuming your inner monologue, oranges, and vanilla swirl together in a strikingly pleasant way.

His fingers waved in front of your face snatching your attention. Apparently, he had been talking to you for the past five minutes while you were absorbed in your thoughts about him. Laughing when you gave him a confused look. You had no idea what he had just said. It didn't seem to bother him too much. Restating himself with a smile on his face. His teeth were perfectly white and straight. Did he not own a single flaw?

But that was five months ago. In those months you fell in love with everything that was Lee Felix. You had never known a love so warm and positive. With his help you fixed your grades, even making the dean's list. He took you around Seoul showing you sites you never would've visited on your own. Meeting his friends who welcomed you with open arms. You felt so accepted. You weren't alone anymore.

Zipping up your last suitcase you had five minutes to say goodbye to your apartment that held so many memories for you. The kitchen where you shred your first kiss. That same day you burnt a batch of cookies together. More your fault than anything, but Felix didn't make you feel bad for it. Even taking a bite out of one to make the smile return to your face. The door you crossed so many times with him in tow. Body on body as you fumbled your way to the couch. Laughing when he tripped on the rug.

It was all over, for the foreseeable future at least. Your visa expiring forced you to leave behind the only love you've ever known. Felix wasn't even able to see you off at the airport. He had a strict schedule he couldn't stray from, not that you would let him. He had already done so much for you. You wouldn't risk his job just so you could have a few more moments of comfort. You weren't that selfish.

Stepping on the plane and finding your seat you wondered what would happen if you had never met. Would you be spared from the pain squeezing your heart with every breath? No. You don't regret him. You couldn't, not after all the kindness he showed you. Not after all the love

Closing your eyes, you lay your head back on the seat. The window blinds were closed so the sunlight wouldn't touch you. It reminded you too much of your own sun. Seats all around you filled up, but the two next to you remained empty, just reminding you of how lonely you were becoming again.

Suddenly you felt a dip in the seat beside you. Causing you to jolt up, ready to make room for the newcomer. When you looked you saw the familiar blonde that warmed your days.

"is that seat taken?" Felix asked with the biggest grin on his face. You quickly pulled him down into the seat and hugged him as tight as you could. Not believing it was really him. gently wiping tears from your cheek you didn't even realize were falling. He hushed your cries as he pulled you close.

"I convinced the company to let me work from home. So I can follow you anywhere. You didn't think I was seriously going to let you leave without me were you?"

[writingquestionsanswered]

This is probably silly, but how do I figure out a ending for my story?

Figuring Out an Ending

Not silly at all! :)

To figure out your ending, you need to:

1 - Understand your story's conflict. Stories are driven by either an external conflict, an internal conflict, or a combination of both. An external conflict is a problem in the protagonist's world that must be resolved. An internal conflict is a problem in the character's self that must be solved.

2 - Understand story structure. Basic story structure looks like this:

The exposition is where you set up your character's "normal world." The inciting incident is the moment where your character is confronted by the problem within themselves or their world and must make a decision about how to solve the problem (goal). The rising action is their struggle to solve the problem by overcoming the obstacles thrown at them by the antagonistic force--usually the force that caused their problem in the first place. The climax is where they face off against the antagonistic force once and for all. The falling action is the dust settling post-climax, and the denouement shows where everything ends up.

3 - Understand what's going to change. Stories are ultimately journeys of transformation, whether it's the protagonist who changes or the world around them--or both. In stories that are fully or partly character-driven (internal conflict), there's usually a character change arc, meaning the character changes as a result of the events of the story. In stories that are fully plot-driven (external conflict) there's often a static arc, meaning that the character's world or people around them change as a result of the story. And in stories that are both character-driven and plot-driven, you can have both.

4. Having a good understanding of #1 through #3 will give you a general understanding of what your ending needs to be. To figure out the specifics, remember the ending of your story should accomplish the following:

-- Provide a snapshot of your character’s life after all the changes brought on by the events that unfolded because of the inciting incident.

-- Let us know where the supporting characters ended up, if that’s not already apparent.

-- Illustrate how your character has changed, or how they’ve helped someone else change or changed their environment.

-- Mirror the opening in some way so that the reader is reminded of where things were at the beginning versus where they are at the end.

You may find that your ending doesn't come fully to mind until you write through the first draft. It may happen organically, or you may have to tease it out. Either way, having everything worked out ahead of time can help you get there.

Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[choccy-milky]

(SPOILER WARNING to people who haven't read your story) I SWEAR to GOD!!!! This is borderline anon-hate with my current state of mind after finishing The Raven and The Snake over this weekend. I finished it in two days. I'm a mess. I've even started making a playlist because I feel like I can't properly enter reality again. I'm supposed to be writing my bachelors thesis right now,,,, what have you done to me!!!!

I loved it so so so much, and I am very mad I cannot have a collectors edition hardback version of it on my shelf. There are many many moments that keep replaying in my head, and scenes that I saw so vividly when reading through it. The first imperio moment and Sebs shadow and imperio-green eyes as Clora was held captive, and the entire scene in the repository and how I was physically shaking as I slowly realised that Seb had made a fucking horcrux, and when it was CONFIRMED the GASP i GUSPED. It was so perfect, and so very Sebastian; because OF COURSE he made a horcrux (lowkey hot, sue me).

And the scene where Clive realised Seb straight up just died for his daughter without knowing he would be back, oh my dear lord.

And the idea of Seb being seen as a 'Ruffian' and that little mamas boi bitch of a Henry thinking his hand-me-down-riches, muggle ass would be preferable to a powerful wizard. I secretly wished they didn't have to keep magic a secret so Henry could have known just how inferior he was. AND SEB APPARATING SO FAR UMPH the skilllll.

I could go on and on and on, and maybe I will some other time in your inbox when I have another mental breakdown.

And now I'm also almost done with the small sequel. Just taking a break to bombard you with this unhinged message of mine. And how you draw Sebastian is so fucking good. It's actually what got me reading in the first place. I see your version as being in a completely separate universe from the game, cause the way you draw him just has that something, and it's not the same anywhere else. It certainly doesn't help my obsession that my own boyfriend has the same features and colour palette as him, now I think I might even use your art as inspo for next time we need wardrobe additions.

I love you and I hate you.

Ps. Of course I added Sarah Smiles to the playlist and also Far too young to Die, and Just One Yesterday. If you've any other songs you think match please let me knowww~~

BRUHHHHH I ALMOST FEEL NARCISSISTIC FOR POSTING/RESPONDING TO THIS ASK BC ITS JUST PRAISE BUT DAMN THANK YOU SO MUCH😭😭😭😭IM HAPPY YOU LIKED IT SO MUCH!! FORGET WRITING YOUR BACHELORS THESIS, TY FOR WRITING A THESIS ON WHY U LOVED MY FIC SO MUCH AND ALL THE LIL THINGS U ENJOYED BAHAHAHA (love the henry slander) im also glad u like how i draw seb too, and i love how thats what made u start reading it in the first place BAHAH but fr, sometimes i try drawing seb more accurately to his ACTUAL appearance and then im like... Who The Hell is this... and it may sound arrogant since im the artist but my seb is MY seb, yknow...its why i dont like drawing him with other mc's romantically. bc even tho its like, oh look, that's Sebastian Sallow™ from the hit game Hogwarts Legacy™! in my style if i draw him with another MC, its like, NO!!! THATS NOT SEBASTIAN SALLOW™, THATS CLORA'S HUSBAND🤺🤺THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING BOI??🤺🤺🤺 LMAOO but rly TY AGAIN💖💖💖 not only for reading but also taking the time to write all this and let me know how much you enjoyed it🥹🥹i (and all writers, really) always love getting stuff like this!! it also brings me back to when i was writing it, especially now that ive been finished with my fic for a few months, listening to u react to all the diff scenes is making me miss it and giving me nostalgia for my own damn fic FRRR😩 also i love that youre making a playlist LMAOO thats how u know the brainrot truly has a hold on you IM SO SORRY🙏🙏 i actually made a seb and clora playlist like last year and its somewhere in my ask tag if you look through that?? but one song that i can recommend off the top of my head (which i almost made their anthem in that OTP chart) is arms tonite by mother mother...whenever i listen to it i cant help but laugh to myself bc its SO perfect for the chap where seb sacrifices himself....YOULL SEE WHEN U LISTEN😇💖

[alexanderwales]

I think the worst part of my experience with the internet is when people make bold claims and I say to myself "is that actually true though?" and then, rather than continuing on with my life and letting it lie, I take it upon myself to answer the question to my own satisfaction.

And this is often very difficult and time-consuming, because the thing that's boldly being claimed is complex and nuanced, and there's possibly a grain of truth somewhere that I really would need to go looking for.

I used to have a very Catholic coworker who I'd get in fights with all the time, and he was terrible about providing sources for the things he said, because obviously it was based on an article that had landed in his inbox and it was hard for him to remember all the details, except that he had definitely read it somewhere. So I would take it upon myself to say "okay, what the fuck is this guy talking about" and then eventually I would find the kernel of truth that had led to whatever was in his head. Sometimes this was interesting and worthwhile, but often it was not. On a few occasions, it was just funny/frustrating, because he'd been shared something from the Onion.

(As one example, he had said that Pepsi products contained pieces of aborted fetuses, which was clearly stupid on the face of it. But when I went to go figure out where he'd gotten that from, I learned some stuff about cell lines, and in particular, HEK-293. That cell line comes from the kidney of an aborted (or possibly miscarried) fetus from 1973, and through the magic of biology, became an immortal cell line. This cell line was then used by a company called Senomyx, which had developed a way to test sweetness using them, though so far as I know no one had any proof that they did anything with that particular cell line in association with their partnership with PepsiCo. They certainly weren't putting HEK-293 cells in their drinks. An anti-abortion group then began attempting a boycott of PepsiCo around 2010 on the basis of this partnership, which is how my coworker had wound up repeating to me the claim that Pepsi had aborted fetuses in it. I found this to be a Fun Fact.)

Anyway, tumblr is a particularly bad place for misinformation and bold claims, but today was the first time I failed to stop myself from trying to get some actual sources when someone tossed of a little treat of a fact which did not actually sound true to me. And I didn't even get the answer I was looking for!

It's tangential to this post, but the claim was that sometimes sports were segregated because women were outcompeting men, rather than the reverse. So far as I can find, the answer is "probably false if taken to be anything on the level of a trend", but gymnastics apparently has men and women doing totally different events, and without grabbing a book on the development of gymnastics as a sport, it would be difficult to determine whether the segregation was specifically because men could not compete, rather than some other motive.

The other, more clear-cut example, was mixed skeet shooting, where a woman won a gold medal in the event, then women were barred from competing the next Olympics and a separate women's skeet shooting event was made. Barring other details, this is some sexist bullshit on the part of the International Shooting Union. So I did find evidence of it happening at least once, in a single sport, which was already a sport where women are roughly at parity with men. And if I've found evidence of it happening once, there's a good chance that it's happened more than that. Seems very rare though, and more of a "because sexism" thing rather than "because biological differences". But if I didn't know about that, what else might I not know? Think about what a fool I'd look like if I displayed ignorance of Shan Zhang's 1992 Olympic skeet shooting performance and the subsequent rule change.

The other claim I was trying to track down was "what's the difference in funding for male and female sports, and can we predict how much of an impact that has on performance", which is obviously a fucking huge research question, so I was hoping that someone had done some kind of study that I could read. I don't think there's a bunch of data on how much money is spent on facilities or coaches or whatever, but I was thinking that maybe you could try to find comparable budgets. That would still leave you with some of the social/access/selection problems, but it would at least be something. If the hypothesis was that socialization and funding are the primary reason for the performance gap, we could eliminate at least one of them, and I think there are statistical methods to account for different sample sizes. I was hoping that someone would have done it, or something better than that took an actual knowledge of statistics and sports into account, but apparently not.

FWIW the sports where men and women are at something like parity appear to be those that require endurance, flexibility, or where we wouldn't think there's that much reason your specific body would matter: ultramarathons, equestrian, shooting sports, some archery, and some climbing. It would be weird to me if a difference in funding and engagement and sexism was making a difference in other sports, but not these ones, but I guess I could float some theories if I had to.

I actually do not care that much about these questions, and it gets into a lot of feminist and trans waters that people have strong feelings about, where to me it's just a research issue, trying to find some empirical data. I am including this stuff here mostly for the sake of completeness and because I dislike vagueblogging.

[indiestsnake]

heyyy look it’s a vent post. about. how i keep forcing you all to repeat the nice words you say because evidently my skulls a bit too thick to retain the info

don’t read if you don’t want to, I’ll probably sleep this off anyway

I hate how my brain neutralizes compliments

the longer nice words someone says stay in my brain the more fake they feel. even from my friends. what if their opinion has changed? what if I’ve done something wrong? what if they just don’t feel that strongly anymore?

it doesn’t help that i can’t expect anyone to come up with new ways to validate my stupid brain constantly

I still remember the beginning of to find warmth. every word mattered so much to me. checking my phone and always seeing that little inbox number tick up, faster and faster with each chapter, comments growing longer and more complex. I got tumblr and random people came by to tell me how cool they thought I was. I finally felt like I was important for once

and then it just. slowly started to mean a little less

my brain adapts. moves the goalpost. it writes the last words off as meaningless and says the current ones aren’t actually that impressive. sure, people like your writing. so what? you’re bad at a million other things.

and then the comments themselves slowed down. my fifteen minutes ran out. I no longer woke to 99+ notifs on tumblr, I stopped having new comments to read every morning. consitient commenters come and go because how the hell can I expect someone to find a new way to be nice to me every single chapter I post? it’s not possible. much less any sort of reasonable goal

the comments still mean a lot. it’s the difference between a gallon of water after a trek through a desert, and a sip on a hot day. I used to be starved for compliments. now I’m not.

someone called to find warmth one of their favorite books. someone said it genuinely empowered them with its themes. a friend reached out to translate it to Russian. the numbers grow higher and higher

but for some reason I just. it doesn’t feel real unless they say it again. it’s corroborated, or reiterated, or repeated. I keep forcing you all to keep telling me the ways I’ve impacted you over and over in different formats because I dump all the words you say into a self hatred acid pit apparently

I’m so grateful for the fandom I’ve grown and recieved. I could never express how happy it makes me to see this reach and help so many people. I’m sorry you have to hear me whine as if your words mean nothing I swear they do

I promise they do. they do. please please believe me. I just need you to repeat them. that’s all I ever say to you guys

im sorry. you don’t have to. you dont have to repeat yourself. you dont have to reach out to reinforce what I should already know. nor do you have to keep telling me things if this post makes it feel meaningless

im so happy to have you all. im sorry