#her globes outfit is there too now and even thinking about

[bcofl0ve]

in lisa’s revamped exhibit at graceland 💔 such a lovely photo of them but man this hurt my heart.

[contentloadingandstuff]

Smut Headcanons - Signora & Arlecchino

A/N: The smut version of the spooky Halloween special. If evil, why hot? CW: Unhealthy/toxic relationships, Arlecchino being scary, manipulation, conditioning, hard femdom, humiliation, degradation, collars, pegging, cbt, estim.

For Signora, power is the name of the game. 

She can safely consider herself one of the most powerful politicians of the Fatui, meaning she has thousands of men underneath her in the hierarchy. But controlling one, so very handsome, so privately? It's far, far more exciting than any kind of malicious trick she can pull on her underlings. 

It's obvious who is in power here. La Signora, The Fair Lady, being a pleasure toy for a man? Simply unthinkable.

To keep this dynamic in mind, you'll always be naked during playtime, while she will be clothed (to a reasonable degree of course). Her outfit usually includes her favorite, very expensive fur stole, a delicate and slightly tight lingerie bra to hold up her massive tits, and a pair of panties - all of them the darkest shade of black, of course. It perfectly contrasts with her fair skin, and when one size too small, it makes your male brain melt at the sight of those curves. 

Another piece of clothing she's fond of are her long, black, silk gloves. They are very thin, enough so that you can feel the warmth of her hands, but not the softness of her skin. And they stay on at all times. Did you seriously think she would touch your dirty cock with her bare hands?

And don't you dare cum on her, or any piece of her clothing. You are permitted to spill your filth only on yourself or the floor. If you fail to follow this simple instruction, you will find yourself liking your own seed clean. 

Signora prefers you naked, but she gladly puts a collar around your neck. She tightens it to give you a reminder of who you belong to, and adds a leash for some extra power over you.

Signora enjoys a good dose of bullying, and she has many interesting ways of making you tremble with embarrassment before her. 

The main one is depriving you of pussy. Sure, you get it during 'normal' sex, when either of you are too tired, or just not in the mood to do the standard routine, but it's generally a reward. 

She likes to see you desperate, so expect to be offered a hard aphrodisiac before the session begins. That, in connection with edging or a short chastity term, brings out the most desperate, painfully horny male she so likes to observe. 

Since her slit is a reward, most of the time you'll get a fleshlight instead. She'll watch, mouth agape, blushed with fingers knuckle deep in her cunt as you fuck the rubber pussy, whining and moaning so pathetically. Sometimes, when Signora feels the need to humiliate you even more than usual, she will make you fuck the fleshlight right on top of her pussy. The face you pull, knowing that her warm, wet hole is right there and still being unable to fuck it, is priceless. 

If Signora feels especially nasty, she will give you just a pillow to satisfy yourself. Watching you hump it, whining and cringing at your own desperation, gives her the strongest orgasms.

Although she enjoys some real cock every now and then, The Fair Lady doesn't care that much about having normal sex. She's far more into fulfilling her own kinks, which gives her the sort of pleasure fucking can't compare to. 

Why even ask for that when her paizuri skills are the best in all of Teyvat? If you behave, you'll finally see that tight bra dropped, and your dick buried in those amazing, fat globes. Signiora knows what she's doing - she'll be using lube and breaking up the standard stroking with some creative techniques that absolutely short circuit your brain with pleasure. A reward must be as thorough as a punishment, so Signora will edge you - not right to the edge so it doesn't feel disappointing when she stops - but more than enough to significantly prolong the experience. 

Should you moan and beg nicely enough while fucking the rubber pussy or dry humping, she might even give you a hand in getting yourself off. Signora may be a quiet woman, but she enjoys when her sub is loud. And she will make you moan if you're naturally quiet. 

She has her techniques. The main thing is to enhance the pleasure. Chastity, edging or drugs all do a great job in making you desperate, and thus more sensitive. She will order you to moan then, and after enough such training, your brain will make the right connections, making you moan naturally. She will train you as long as it is necessary.

But what if you don't listen to her orders? You cum when and where she didn't ask you to, or don't moan enough? Well, the punishments are rough and quite difficult to endure.

Signora has an affinity for hurting others, and it shows. Of course, you won't be hurt in an unfun way. You'll give her the limits, and she will make the most out of them.

The simplest way to hurt a man is to target his balls. It's a low hanging fruit, yes, but it gets her soaking wet when you tremble in her hands. She prefers the more refined way to deliver your torment - slapping, squeezing, or especially using her heels to make you cry.

Pegging is a punishment with her. After a rough fingering as prep time, you will be made to get on your hands and knees and take her studded cock. She's quite good at it - her hips work amazingly, having the dummy cock pleasure your prostate with every thrust, making you moan and whine at the relentless stimulation. Too bad, as Signora loves to humiliate you while pegging, especially if you cum. 

"You call yourself a man, cumming from just being fucked in the ass? You really are pathetic~" 

And then she'll fuck you post orgasm, just to hear you whine and beg even more. 

Her Delusion isn't off limits either. Cooling down her finger and dragging it over your exposed, oh so sensitive head brings out the most pitiful, sexiest noises from you.

Extra enjoyment (for her) comes from spanking you. Painting your ass red with a cane or a whip, forcing you to moan, groan and whimper satisfies her sadistic side quite thoroughly, and gives you a painful reminder of the consequences of disobeying her.

Expect your hands to be tied during punishment. She loves to see you struggle against the bonds when she works on you, but would rather not be interrupted while administering the torture. 

Signora will take great care to respect your limits. If she didn't, you would surely deny her all the freedom to do what she wants with you, losing her a very entertaining toy. 

Oh, and because she loves you. That too. 

For an onlooker, being with Arlecchino might look fairly normal, all things considered. Most of the time it's just vanilla sex with, surprisingly, her being the bottom. 

But all of that? Just because she trained you so well.

She admires your masculinity, she really does. Your stoic approach to life makes you a pillar she can rely on, both emotionally and professionally, and your body never fails to set hers ablaze. 

That's precisely why she does all of this. She loves your masculinity, she loves you. The Knave wants you all to herself, she wants you to be at her beck and call, she wants to control this strength, to have it satisfy her urges whenever she wants to. 

Control. This is what she desires. Control not only over your soul, but over your body as well. 

Arlecchino made this clear when you first got to this level of intimacy. And, quite foolishly, you agreed. But, really, how could you have resisted her unnatural, demonic allure?

Ordering you around wasn't enough for her. And so, she trained you to cum on command.

It took a lot of training, true, but for her? It was all worth it. She would pleasure you with a sleeve, and give you a countdown. If you finished at her mark, she would praise you and give you a fulfilling orgasm - certainly those were some of the best ever.

If you came too early, she would ruin your orgasm and lock your dick in chastity for the rest of the day. The pent up lust would be enough of an encouragement to do better next time. 

The punishment for being too late was far worse. Instead of denying you, Arlecchino would force you to cum. And then one more time. And one more. And once more. And again, until you were crying, begging her to stop with tears in your eyes. 

Enough said, after more than a dozen of such 'tough love' training sessions, your cock adjusted to her pace and you were able to cum whenever she told you to. This allows you to experience simultaneous orgasms, which are absolutely breathtaking. So, maybe this journey, filled with denial and post orgasm torture, was worth it…?

Another of her ideas was to control when you get hard. Believing that direct, harsh punishments for not meeting her expectations were more effective than words, Arlecchino connected an electrode to your nut sack and got to experimenting. 

She wanted to see if she can condition you to harden only to her. She used the prettiest courtesans money could buy, and zapped your balls if you did get excited. 

This was not a fun time. 

Even if the experiment didn't succeed, she did manage to teach you to control your arousal more. So much so that you couldn't resist only direct stimulation, but always got hard at her own slightest suggestion. A great achievement, if you ask her. 

Sometimes you fail to do precisely what she wants, or maybe even playfully stand up to her. In such cases, Arlecchino will be sure to administer a swift and severe punishment, always including your balls. It's the simplest way. Your lustful, male mind will get the message if she hurts your precious little jewels.

The torture includes squeezing them, pressing them between her two fingers with metal claws on, standing on them with the nails of her heels or, most terribly, crushing them with a toy. 

Just to keep things interesting, Arlecchino regularly switches up the torture device. Once it is two flat glass panes, sometimes it's a narrow, workshop press, and sometimes it's spiked. 

Although seeing you in pain doesn't bring her satisfaction, the way your whole body acts when she is punishing you is very… arousing. When the crusher is on, Arlecchino likes to sit over you, passionately making out with you. It's a little one-sided, as kissing her is notably difficult when your vulnerable balls are being pressed so tightly they turn white, but it never bothers her. More - it turns her on even more when your lips tremble, your body shivers or your speech becomes a flurry of pleas and cries. 

The mix of fear and arousal is what rings her bells. She tends to randomly bite your dick while giving blowjobs - not hard to actually hurt you, but her teeth are sharp enough to really make you feel it. It doesn't help that her tongue is just as agile as she is eloquent. Arlecchino loves to take your cock in her mouth and look you straight in the eyes, see the mix of fear and arousal, and feel your hot length throb in confusion. 

When you'll be trained to a satisfactory degree, Arlecchino will go back to more vanilla sessions. You might be the top, but make no mistake - she is the one in charge. Just one word from her is enough to make you change holes or positions, and a short countdown never fails to force your body to climax. You also know well not to do certain things - spanking her or being rough when unprompted can lead to a swift and severe punishment. 

The penalties are for your own good, she says. Arlecchino claims that she doesn't enjoy hurting you, and that the torture is as painful to her as it is to you. Still, her moans and the speed at which she fingers herself while you suffer paint a different picture. 

The majority of these sessions are fun to some degree, but sometimes Arlecchino can be very cruel. Can you say no? Well, in theory - yes. But is it a good idea to refuse her? Even if she claims she will be okay with that, you still have the stories in mind. Stories about how even her favorite subordinates could be sacked after one single failure, and vanish without a trace in the following weeks. She claims you're her first lover, but you can't for the life of you find proof for that statement. Nobody wants to utter a word about her previous lovers, even if a large bribe is on the table. The Knave did kill in the past, and with her own hands at that. Who says her previous interests couldn't be the targets of her wrath?

What's worse is that you're enthralled by her, emotionally and physically. This woman, a constant uncertainty of intentions, has you by the balls - both literally and figuratively.

Maybe it's better, then, to focus on the good, grit your teeth, open your legs and let her have her amusement.

🎃Happy Halloween!🎃

[unluckyservice4]

Out of curiosity, what are the other remnants of despair like in your universe?

Oh, uh. Hmm...good question. I don't....really socialize with most of them these days for reasons, but uh...

Sonia's in Novaselic committing global domination and colonialism. She's one of the Big Three. The remnants who hoard power over the entire globe, minus Junko herself. Gundam's usually with her, or at least aligned with her. Last I heard he was in the Americas stampeding and ruining their cities. They don't really need the help tbh after the cults took over.

Imposter's in the states too, they're considered one of the other Big Three, they're impersonating some important governmental figure, though I'm not sure who. They're a big reason why the cults got out of hand and run a huge faction in that area, at least that's what I last heard. I dunno the state of that location so they might've moved on.

Fuyuhiko's got most of southeast asia, pretty much this whole place is his Territory, though Towa's a provence under it's own power. That's part of the deal Towa made with the Remnants after all. He also doesn't have much control over where sections like the Future Foundation and other such corperations have settled. FF's got it's tendrils riddling all throughout everyone's territories, so far they've set up a kind of hit and run strategy of coming to a place, outfitting people with supplies and weapons and then dipping, when they aren't trying to go into all out mini wars with one of us. They've mostly been Fuyuhiko's headache since the lions share of their force is in Japan, though Sonia and Imposter have to deal with their own headaches, especially Imposter. The next Hope's Peak building was meant to be in the states but now that means Munataka's got connections over there. I hear there's an underground rebellion in New York or something.

Next is the smaller forces, most of us are still in Japan physically but the influence can still reach global. Mahiru's got a radio station, it's surprisingly practical past the propaganda, gives you updates on what we're doing or any public plans and about famous killers-there's like a top ten serial killer hitlist it's...uh. Graphic. Ibuki and Hyoko are doing their concerts, which end in death or brainwashing or spreading more propaganda. Oh, Peko's still with Fuyuhiko, though I hear she might branch out now and again. She's a trained hitman so personally I am......not eager to look too deeply into her exploits.

Akane is........I honestly don't know where she is. She spent some time with Nekomaru's training area-he runs a training area, but it's extremely dangerous and unhealthy. Steroids, extremely dangerous diets and workout routines, he's got a whole subset of cult members who're like, super beefed up and probably ready to burst a blood vessal at any moment. It's.......It's honestly horrifying. Anyway, Akane spent a while with him and then she came out extremely weak and malnourished and yet somehow still a terrifying powerhouse. She wanders around leveling buildings for fun, I think. I think it's for fun. It's...um....it's like getting hit with a natural disaster honestly.

And Teru-ah....Teruteru's in the party business. And by party I mean sex party. And by sex party I mean you get a full course meal that makes you high and then you end up either dying in very horrificly gruesome ways or you end up going crazy and tear each other apart. um. Sometimes in even more disturbing ways than I just described. Don't go to his parties.

OH I almost forgot Souda. Probably because he doesn't actually do much himself, but he's got his machines set up everywhere and if you try to tamper with any of them you're probably going to set off a trap. That's all he does though, his machines are awful, the entire reason the sky's scorched is because of him, but beyond his machines he's actually harmless. All he wants is to bury his head in a project, it's kinda...kinda sad.

I think that's everyone....?

[endless-summer-soldier]

ice ice baby - chapter seven

pairing: CollegeHockeyPlayer!Bucky x CollegeFigureSkater!Reader

summary: Bucky is a college hockey player, Y/N is a figure skater without a partner. What's happens when these two opposites start sharing the ice...

warnings: enemies to lovers trope, some alcohol use

word count: 1.8k

taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @whiskeyrosepoetry

series playlist

series masterlist

It was an understatement to say their routine had rocked the figure skating world. Fans and skaters from all over the globe were talking about the finesse of their routine. But more than that, they talked about the unjust scores. No one could figure out how Y/N and James had scored so low with an impeccable routine. The easy assumption became that their song choice and outfits were too “rebellious” for the figure skating world. Fans of the sport applauded their originality and were outraged with the judges.

Almost immediately following the competition, Twitter was trending with tweets about how the duo was robbed from a guaranteed victory and it was unbelievable that they hadn’t qualified for the Olympics. The Twitter backlash grabbed the attention of Tara Lipinski and Johnny Weir, who were also appalled at the ratings. The two of them called for a re-scoring from the judges, which had never happened before.

It wasn’t long before this captured the attention of the national media. The routine had been featured on ESPN and John Oliver even did a piece on the injustice for his show, Last Week Tonight. The duo became local celebrities overnight and neither knew how to handle it.

With all the uproar on their routine, the two hadn’t dealt with the kiss. Neither of them really knew where to go from there. They weren’t seeing each other as much because there was no need to train. The media was always hounding them for an interview or comment on the situation. So they kept their heads down and focused on going to class. 

While Y/N had accepted the results of the competition, Bucky hadn’t. He arguably made things worse by tweeting his own feelings and retweeting those whose ideas mirrored his own. The whole hockey team seemed to back him up and there was talk of a team strike. But Y/N couldn’t let that happen. She talked Bucky off the ledge and let him continue on with his training.

“You’ve just worked so hard for this. It’s not fair to just let them win,” he’d argue once she called him out for another retweet.

“Bucky, this is just how it works. We knew the routine was a risk, it is what it is. We just have to move on.”

“I’m not giving up that easily. We are not the only ones who are outraged. There has to be something we can do.”

She let out a big sigh, “They have never re-scored a routine in the history of the sport. We just have to move on. You need to focus on hockey now.”

He wasn’t satisfied with her response and he sure as hell wasn’t giving up that easily. He just needed some time to think about what he was going to do.

Y/N stopped for a cup of coffee before heading to the library and she was surprised to find that the campus was buzzing. Members of the hockey team were posting flyers to the walls and handing flyers out to anyone who walked by. 

“Y/N! Hey!” Sam grabbed her attention as she stood there in confusion. 

“What is all this? A fundraiser of some sort?” she asked, pulling out her wallet to donate.

Sam squinted at her in disbelief and then smiled, “You didn’t know about all this?”

“Know about what?” Sam simply handed her a flyer.

WE DEMAND A NEW SCORE!

SIGN THE PETITION FOR USFS TO REVIEW THE SCORES FOR NATIONALS!

OUR SKATERS DESERVE AN OLYMPIC SPOT!

Underneath the words there was a professional picture of Y/N and Bucky that was taken before the competition. There was also a QR code that would lead the scanner to the petition on Change.org.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she murmured.

“He’s tough to stop once he puts his mind to something,” Sam replied. 

“So he gets a couple thousand signatures on this thing, it’s not going to make a difference.”

“Oh we’re well past a couple thousand,” Sam pulled up the petition on his phone and showed it to Y/N. Over 400,000 signatures, and the number kept increasing.

“What the hell…How?”

“That’s the beauty of social media. He went viral on TikTok.”

“Oh my God,” she said, exacerbated.

“And he’s been doing interviews with every media outlet that will have him. Podcasts, radio, news, morning shows, you name it.” 

“He should be training. You all should be training! I don’t know why he’s so stuck on this.”

“Really? You don’t know,” he said sarcastically.

She shrugged at him, unsure of what he was implying. 

“Watch the TikTok, then you’ll get it,” she nodded her head and started to walk off, “And sign the position!” he added.

As soon as she got to the library, she put in her headphones and opened up TikTok. Without even searching for the video, Bucky’s face immediately popped up on her For You page.

“My name is Bucky Barnes and I’m a college hockey player who recently became a figure skater. I was trained by my partner in just a few weeks to compete at the national level and I’m asking for your help to right a wrong.”

The screen changed to show the routine for nationals and Bucky continued speaking.

“During this competition, my partner choreographed and executed an incredible routine, only to be met with mediocre scores from the judges. I believe this score to be an absolute abomination and I am coming for USFS. The routine pushed boundaries with the song choice and choreography and was executed perfectly. USFS does not want to acknowledge creativity and those willing to challenge the standards. We are asking USFS to review the routine and give a new score that the routine deserves. My partner Y/N worked tirelessly on the routine and she doesn’t deserve to have her Olympic spot taken from her when she has worked so hard her entire life. Please do this for her, she is the most talented figure skater I have seen and she is the only person who could’ve turned me from a rough hockey player to a figure skater.” 

The video changed to a candid photo of Y/N and Bucky from before the competition. She wasn’t even sure where this photo had come from but the two were looking at each other with smirks on their faces, as if they were privy to an inside joke that no one else knew.

“Please, follow the link in my bio and sign the petition. Share this video with all your friends and family. This beautiful human has done everything to earn a spot on this team. We can’t let her career end on this note. She deserves a chance to stand on that podium in Beijing and earn a gold medal for her country. Let’s make her dream come true.”

Y/N was surprised to find tears had formed in the corner of her eyes. It was for her, that’s why he was doing this. The fact that he went through all this effort just to give her another chance to skate took her breath away. No one had ever done anything like that for her before. 

“We have an update on the story we featured a few weeks ago about the figure skating pair from the University of Minnesota. Bucky Barnes, the male skater, went viral on TikTok with a link to a petition for USFS to review the scoring. This video has received 2.1 million likes and continues to be shared by famous figures in the skating community, including Michelle Kwan, Sasha Cohen, and Nathan Chen. On top of that, NHL players and teams have also been sharing the video and urging fans to support the petition. The petition has just reached over one million signatures and as of yesterday USFS has announced they will be reviewing the scoring. This is a huge step forward for the skating community who has fully supported the skating pair’s bid for an Olympic spot. The routine they competed with is considered to be one of the most technically difficult and well executed in skating history. While you may think victory has been won, we still don’t know if USFS will make any changes. They have never revised a score in a national competition so I urge you to sign this petition if you have not yet. This pair deserves a fair evaluation for their routine and should not be penalized simply for skating to AC/DC.”

Y/N was stunned to find that she was featured on John Oliver yet again. She could not understand how this story had gained so much traction. Bucky had nearly quadrupled his Twitter and Instagram followers and he had no plans to stop his campaign until USFS responded with a final verdict.

She hadn’t spoken to Bucky much the past week other than the occasional text message. It wasn’t for lack of desire, it was more because she was nervous how to act around him. Now that she had fully realized her massive crush on him, she was worried it would make their relationship weird and she would clam up and not know what to say. She was almost hoping that her feelings would go away if she spent more time away from him.

Bucky was the complete opposite. He was head over heels for Y/N and all he wanted was to prove it to her with his actions. That was partially why he was on such a tear about the scoring. He wasn’t willing to just let things be when he knew she deserved better. He was hoping if he was able to get the score revised that she might see how important she was to him. But he was working on a back up plan to woo her in case this didn’t work out.

He was surprised to hear his phone ring this late on a Sunday night and was even more surprised to find it was Y/N.

“Well hey stranger,” he answered. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Oh I just happened to be watching some late night TV and imagine my surprise to see the two of us featured.”

“Face it babe, we’re famous now.”

She chuckled, “Regardless of the outcome of this whole ordeal, I really want to thank you. Without you, none of this would be happening.”

“It’s really nothing.”

“It’s not nothing! You’ve got the whole hockey team involved, you're doing interviews all the time, you're making TikToks. This is like a full on election campaign. Don’t minimize your efforts by saying it's nothing.”

“And I would do all of it again if it means sending you to the Olympics.”

Her breath caught in her throat, “You’re really doing all of this for me?”

“Of course. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.”

“You know what would make me happy?”

“What’s that?”

“Seeing you.”

“Then let me take you out tomorrow night.”

She nodded her head, even though he couldn’t see her. “I’d like that.”

[lostinlewis]

Old Flame ~ Part Two

Rating: M

Words: 3442

Character: Lewis Hamilton x F!Reader

Description: You learnt so much from your first love but the most important lesson he taught you was how to deal with heartbreak, even if it takes you six years. You were almost there, you almost made it days at a time without thinking about him…that was until he turned up in the most unexpected of places.

Seven hundred and thirty hours, it had been seven hundred and thirty hours, one whole month to be more precise, since your encounter with Lewis, and you were pretty sure you had spent at least seven hundred of those hours thinking about him. 

You had cycled through all of the coping mechanisms you knew to distract yourself from thoughts of him but it was fruitless, nothing and no one could stop you from finding yourself staring into space as you ran through memories you shared with the only person you had ever really loved, except for that one thing you knew always brought you back down to reality; you Googled him. 

If Lewis was just some guy, Googling him would have provided a page of results if you were lucky, however Lewis was not just some guy, he never really had been. Articles upon articles discussing his every move filled the pages. Think pieces on his outfits, on his cars, and of course his dating life appeared. There were pictures too, so very many pictures of him and others, mostly female, papped in streets and events across the globe. 

As you looked at each one, and of course you looked, you felt the pinprick pain cover your skin, anxiety and grief, a fine mixture. You studied every inch of every woman that stood beside him. Each looked like a model, they were everything you didn’t feel you were yourself. They were all young, beautiful and slim, they wore clothes you would never dare to wear, and most importantly they looked as if they belonged next to him; something you had never truly felt you did. 

You had known forever that you were not the kind of girl he would settle down with, Lewis was never meant for normal, Lewis was meant for remarkable, he was meant for success, he was meant for a relationship that would only ever be the envy of others, one that was labelled a ‘Power Couple’, he was meant for everything you could never be, you were normal and Lewis was not, he was remarkable and he deserved someone remarkable too. 

-

The drive to your mum's house was narrated by the sounds of Sza’s album, each song was relatable, her lyrics spoke to your soul. 

‘I try to keep from losin' the rest of me/I worry that I wasted the best of me on you, baby’

You cared not for who could see you singing along to every word as if you were Sza herself, nor did you worry about the tears streaming down your face as you let emotions out that you had suffocated for so long, emotions that now tested the strength of your waterproof mascara, as well as they tested your sanity. 

Before you switched off your engine you knew there was one more thing you had to do, you turned your music up to loudest possible volume, clutching the steering wheel with a herculean grip you let out a scream, a long deep scream to bring and end to the breakdown you had scheduled for that morning. 

-

“Are you okay? You are awfully quiet today.”

Your mum had always been intune to your feelings, it had never mattered how much you persisted that you were fine when you were not, she knew, she always knew.

“I’m going to tell you something but please be sane about it.” You knew that request was pointless, your mum could be sane about nothing involving him. “I saw Lewis.” 

“Oh, you did?” 

Her response was normal, unemotive, had she finally grown to hate the man as you had requested for so many years?

“Is that it? You don’t want to tell me how this was fate intervening? How it was time to give him another chance? How beautiful our babies would be? Wow mum, you really have grown.”

“Well, darling you know-”

“Oh my god, you already know don’t you? How do you know, mum?” 

The realisation hit you hard as you read the expression that she barely tried to hide on her face.

“Darling, calm down…” 

“No mum, what the actual…explain, everything, now!” 

You could feel your face flush with a burning anger, the betrayal hit as hard as his had all those years ago. She was your mum, not his. She was supposed to be on your side, not his. 

“I’m sorry, I knew this was how you would react, that’s why I didn’t tell you-”

“Tell me what, mum?”

Your leg bounced up and down as your body desperately tried to release the anger that was boiling over within you. 

“You know that Lewis and I were always very close, I thought of him as a son. When you broke up, when you left him…he called me first to find out if you were still alive and then to apologise.” She hadn’t made eye contact with you once, she knew she’d betrayed you. “It started as innocently as that, then he’d call once a week…always on a Sunday evening after his race to keep me updated, he knew I enjoyed hearing how he did. He’s won so many races, did you know?” 

“Are you actually serious right now?” 

“Sorry, I’m just proud of him.”

“You’re proud of the guy who destroyed me, mum? You know what, fine.” 

“No sweetie, it’s just-” 

You were not prepared to wait around to hear more of her pathetic excuses. You had always known she was fond of him, you just didn’t ever realise she was more fond of him than she was of you.

“Since you care so much about him, more than your own daughter's feelings clearly, I’ll just leave.” 

You heard your mum attempt to chase after you but it was pointless, the anger and betrayal had powered you out of the door and into your car before she had even had the chance to get near. 

-

The tears flooded your cheeks once more, the betrayal, so much betrayal, how could the two people who swore to love you unconditionally hurt you in unimaginable ways? 

Your fingers found his name in your phone and pressed the call button before you even had a chance to think about what you were doing.

“Hello?” 

“How fucking dare you still speak to my mum?” 

The words fell out of you in a vicious scream, a hiss of spite as you wanted answers from the one man you swore you would never speak to again.

“Baby, I-” 

“No, don’t baby me! I can’t believe you would…I can’t believe she would betray me like that.” 

Your voice broke as you cried uncontrollably, if you had an ounce of rationale within you in the moment you would have kept strong with your anger but instead you were powerless to the upset that engulfed the fire of anger. 

“She didn’t betray you, it’s my fault. I love your mum, she’s been a mum to me too at times. I shouldn’t have kept in contact with her, I just needed to know you were okay, you disappeared and I couldn’t contact you. I needed to know you were alive, at least.” 

His voice was quiet, a stark contrast to your screams. 

“Maybe it would have been easier if I wasn’t.” 

“No. Do not say that. Do not even play with that.” His voice rose an octave. “Are you driving right now?”

“So what if I am?” 

“Pull over, please. You’re too riled up to drive safely.” 

“No, you don’t get to-”

“Pull over. If you don’t, I will call the police and tell them there’s a crazy drunk woman that needs to be stopped.” 

“But I haven’t been drinking.” 

“Yes and they will realise that when they pull you over, but at least they would have made you stop.” 

“Fine.” You said through gritted teeth. “Happy now? I’ve stopped.” 

“Very. Now you’re going to breathe, I will talk to you until you calm down.”

“And if I don’t calm down?”

“Then you’ll be stuck talking to me for eternity, you don’t want to do that now do you?”

You could hear his smug smirk through the phone. He spoke to you for a whole hour, about racing, about fashion, about anything he could think of just to distract you from your thoughts. He made you smile, he made you laugh but most importantly, he made you forget you hated him, if only for that brief moment. 

-

Your evening was a mix of dancing around the house to your favourite Spotify and drinking wine, lots and lots of wine. Your music was so loud you almost didn’t hear the knock at your door. 

You opened it so casually, without checking through the peephole first, figuring that it was just your neighbour coming by to ask you to turn the music down, again.

“Hi.” 

Fuck. 

Clad in an oversized lilac sweater, matching cargo trousers and ridiculously big boots, clutching the prettiest bouquet of flowers you had ever seen. 

“What are you-how did you even find me?” You wanted to slam the door shut, escape this absolute nightmare of a situation as fast as you could but you didn’t. “Mum…I’m going to kill her!” 

You left the door open as you rushed to find your phone, ready to tear into your mum, not even considering that you had just invited him inside your home unintentionally. 

“Wait…Stop.” He grabbed the phone from your hand. “She was worried about you, so she begged me to come and check on you.” 

Your face was still a scowl, how many times were they both going to conspire against you?

“I can go if you want?” 

“You’re here now.” You inched away from him, you needed another drink. “Would you like one?” 

You wanted to scream at him, at her, at the both of them. How did you end up in this situation? How was Lewis now sitting on your sofa, still clutching the bouquet of flowers like a nervous sixteen year old waiting to take his date to prom? 

“These are for you.” He handed you the bunch. “Is red still your favourite colour?”

“Yes, thank you.” You smelt them before putting them to the side. 

Lewis accepted your offer of a drink, even though he didn’t normally drink anything, he was clearly just as nervous as you in this situation.

 “Please ignore the…well the whole place, really.” 

Suddenly you were very aware that you had this mega rich super famous guy on the sofa of your very modest, somewhat untidy apartment. 

“I like it, it’s cute…very you.” He looked around the room, taking in every detail much to your annoyance. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes…well I mean, no. I’m too tipsy and too tired to scream at you, if that’s what you are asking?” You sipped at your wine, the harsh taste masked your anxious thoughts. 

“That’s good, I don’t think my ears could handle much more of that.” You both smiled as he feigned ear pain. “But, I mean, about everything? About me being here?” 

You looked at him, his locs sitting loosely on his head, his nose piercing glistened every now and then as the light from a candle reflected off of it. His soft smile, his kind eyes, everything about him was so beautiful. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol freeing you of your inhibitions but you could see the man you fell in love with once more, rather than the man you hated. 

“That’s a loaded question, Lewis. But, I’m okay with you being here…for now”

“You look absolutely beautiful, by the way.” 

“Shut up, no I don’t!” 

You laughed at his absurdity. You were wearing what you called your comfy clothes, a tracksuit about five times too big for you and your makeup was still smudged around your face from the endless stream of tears that ruined it earlier in the day.

“You don’t get to decide that.” He took your hand, you didn’t pull it away. “You look beautiful, to me. You were always the most beautiful woman in every room.” 

You allowed yourself to fall into his gaze, to get lost in the rhythm of his thumb stroking circles on your hand until you caught yourself losing control. 

“That changed fast, it’s a different supermodel every week now, isn’t it?” 

He screwed his face up at you, looking almost offended at the suggestion he was superficial enough to only find beauty in the obvious. 

“How do you even know that? Have you been Googling me?”

“I think everyone’s seen the pictures, Lewis. You’re constantly pictured, all over the world, a new girl on your arm in every picture.” 

You hoped your teasing hid your jealousy but that was pitiful, both of you could feel the aura of envy that laced every word. 

He locked his fingers in yours, so intimate yet innocent the contact he made was. He was always such a touch focused partner, his hands constantly had to be on you in some form, a hand on your thigh as he drove, a hand on the small of your back as you socialised. You missed it, you missed always being the focus of his attention, even in a crowded room. 

“Did you notice something in all of those pictures?” 

“What? That everyone in it was ridiculously beautiful?”

His eye roll felt so exaggerated yet you could tell he meant it.

“No, just how many different women there were.” 

“Are you bragging now? Ew.” 

“I don’t need to brag, baby.” There was his smug smirk once more. “What I meant was, look how many different women I have met, spent time with, tried to make it work with, yet none of them stayed for very long. Do you know why that is?”

“They got bored of your in depth analysis of every move you made on the track the previous weekend?”

“Can you be serious for five minutes, please?” Lewis was getting frustrated with your making light of his words. “And if you must know, they all found my company fantastic, thank you very much!” 

“Whatever. Tell me then, why did none last?” 

“Because none of them were you. Supermodels, actresses, singers…none of them filled even half the hole you left in my heart when you disappeared.” 

“Lewis…” 

You felt him pull your hand just enough to move you closer to him on the sofa. Butterflies engulfed your stomach, you felt an unwanted tingle down below as he pulled you until your face was just inches away from his. 

“Lewis…please…” 

You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, you could smell his signature scent, you could feel his heart racing as you leant up against his torso, staring deep into his eyes. 

“Tell me you don’t still love me, tell me that I don’t give you butterflies in the pit of your stomach anymore.” He brushed your lips with his, the tip of his nose grazing your own. “Tell me to go and I’ll go.”

He took your silence as permission and kissed you. In that moment, you melted into him. He was gentle with his kisses, such tender movements, you could feel how nervous he was to scare you away as he kissed you. 

Your tongues danced together like they were long lost lovers, his hands brushed up your sides, so careful he was of moving too quickly with you, he settled for the feel of your waist, for now. 

He gently laid you back on the sofa without breaking your kiss, worried that if he let you think in that moment you might shy away from him, he purred into your lips as he climbed on top of you. 

Taking all of his weight on his forearms, he allowed only his hardness to press against you, as if he wanted to remind you of all that he offered, as if it was possible for you to ever forget. 

His lips traced from your kiss, across your jawline, never once lifting the pressure on your middle as he nibbled at your neck. You let out a little moan as he sucked at the skin, leaving his mark on what had been forbidden to him for so long now. His hand roamed up your sweatshirt, gently rolling your nipple between the pads of his finger and thumb, not settling until he heard the yelp you let out.

Your breathing was shallow now as he brought his lips over to suck the teat. His other hand slipped under the waistband of your sweatpants. He groaned, your nipple still between his lips, as he drew his middle finger through your wet folds before resting on your nub. 

He caught the moan that escaped your lips with his own, burying his tongue in your mouth before sucking on yours, his finger drawing soft circles on your clit.

“I need to taste you.” 

He trailed your body with kisses before pulling off your sweatpants. He kissed up the inside of your thighs, your core was pulsating now, so much so you were sure he would be able to feel it the closer his face got. He brought one hand up to yours, locking his fingers in between to steady you as his tongue pressed hard against your clit. 

Your whole body shook as he began to work you, you moaned into the air, he was still an expert at pleasing you and he was determined to do just that. He lapped at your middle like you were the only thing that would satisfy his hunger. You could feel him bringing you closer and closer, your high building with every pressured motion of his tongue. He could feel it building too, he squeezed your hand tighter to encourage you. He wanted it, he wanted to taste every last drop of you, he wanted you to give him your essence, he wanted to devour every part of you. 

“Oh my-Lewis.” 

You cried out at him, your body arching, you held your breath as he increased the speed now, desperate to push you over the edge. You squeezed his hand tightly at your peak. You came undone all over his tongue so quickly, your orgasm sitting so fiercely that all you could do was shake as you desperately tried to regain breath. 

He lapped it all up, moaning himself as the juices flowed from you. He didn’t stop once, only decreasing the pressure slowly, making your high last as long as possible until you were so sensitive you whimpered at every touch. 

He brought his face back up to level with yours, his fingers still locked in yours, he brought your legs to a close and wrapped them across his lap. You stared at him for a moment, his smile decorated with the glistening evidence of your undoing. You kissed him this time, tasting yourself on his tongue. You moved your free hand down to his waistband but he brushed it away, quickly. 

“But-”

“No baby, tonight was all about making you feel good.” He mumbled. “There’s plenty of time for that.” 

He brought your head down to his shoulder, one of his hands stroked the outside of your thigh, the other locked in your hand as you both fell asleep right where you sat. 

-

The sunlight broke through your curtains, it took you a moment to remember who it was you were laying with but when you did, when you saw that he was still holding you as if he was scared you were going to disappear, you felt warm. You felt home, for the first time in six years, you felt like you were home. 

You gently wriggled out from under him, he stirred but didn’t wake. You were grateful for the moment alone to gather your thoughts, before being faced with the next steps. You didn’t know what you wanted to do. Every sensible part of you screamed for you to stay away from him but your heart didn’t. The beautiful man that lay on your sofa, so soft he looked in that moment, innocent if it wasn’t for what you knew he was capable of. He was all you had ever wanted since the age of seventeen, he was your first and last love. 

You noticed the flowers he bought still laid on the side, you picked them up to put them in some water. It was then that you noticed the card that was strapped to the side. 

‘We are so much bigger than what we’ve been through.’ 

PART THREE

[phillipcole]

The Late Show with Stephen Colbert part 2

Colbert: Welcome back. Now to explain why Madonna is not the last name on Phillip's sick list: Phillip and Cole's Variety Team.

PBC: Madonna is not the last person on Phillip's sick list. Each of us do have some criticism of the beloved and prolific entertainer. First of all, Phillip is too sick to leave home these days, but he did say the following:

Phillip: The most objectionable thing about Miss Ciccone was her first choice of a husband, a man who continues to show himself a poor representative of mankind.

PBC: Rupert, you're next.

Rupert: (On a projection screen) Cheerio, this is Phillip's cousin Rupert in England. I had no problem at all with Madonna. After all, compared to some of the singers in the UK she held herself in an almost respectable way. Then she married a British subject as her second husband and moved here. That put her into the same septic tank so many of our own singer bred in and she began to smell like them. Not only that, but she eventually divorced her British husband and didn't even move away! Folks, especially women all over the globe, if you marry an Englishman stay with him for life or move away!

Ford: Thank you Rupert. I'm Ford, a former judge in Tennessee and, as a judge in Tennessee I have no jurisdiction, nor do I have authority over persons accused of crimes in other jurisdictions. However without exception I can not watch any crime related movies without passing sentence according to the laws of Tennessee. On at least 2 occasions I have watched movies in which Madonna played characters who confessed to crimes. For those I have no choice but to sentence her in absentia to a period of not less than 3 years in prison in any Tennessee jurisdiction and I certainly do not approve of that.

Cole: (On the projection screen) I'm Cole from Tennessee, a cousin of Ford. I don't care much about crimes or who she marries. I figger I never had a chance. What bothers me about Madonna is her name. Hell, she ain't never been no parygon of virtue, and I don't know why the Catholics changed the name of the virgin Mary to Madonna. I ain't Catholic, so I figger that's their business. Still, a young slutty woman who goes into singin' can call herself anythin' she wants. Why mess up people by takin' a name that about half the world thinks is sumfin holy. If I go to see a concert with someone named Madonna I expect hymns and arias, not erotic gyratin'. So for about 30 years I was mad about that. Then I found out Madonna is the name her parents gave her! Now I'm even madder. Y'all's supposed to keep the name yer parents give yer, no matter how much yer hate it.

PBC: Thank you Cole. It's my turn now. My biggest objection to Madonna was the way she dressed, notably those ugly lopsided outfits in that first movie she did. I was a young man when she became famous and couldn't look at the screen because the clothes were such a turnoff, the complete opposite of the reason I wanted to see it in the first place. You're next, Brad.

Brad: (On the projection screen) I'm Brad, Cole's cousin and Ford's younger brother. I'm with ya Phil about the clothes, especially showin' off her bras all the time. She became famous just about the time gals in Tennessee started learnin' to go braless and boy did that send ever'thin in the wrong direction. Anyway my biggest problem with Madonna is her songs. We like ballads down here in the south, and even if she figgered she had to sing kinda fast on accounta the songs weren't any good she coulda found a way to make 'em into a little story. Did that feller open his heart? Who was that girl? Did she keep the baby? Come on, gal, tell us. It only takes one line!

Norbert: I guess I'm l-l-l-ast heh heh heh heh heh again heh heh. m-m-m-my-my-my-my p-p-p-pr-problem with Madonna, es-es-es-especially. wh-wh-wh-wh-when I was young heh heh heh heh heh heh is is-is-is that I have...as...as-asthma heh heh heh heh heh heh heh and -and-and wh-wh-when I s-saw her first vi-vi-videos I-I-I c-c-c-...heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh.

(Norbert falls down. Curtain closes.)

Colbert: we'll be right back.

[lakynofficial]

What The Hell Is Going On With Red Carpets?

So, the Golden Globes are on tonight. *Wendy Williams voice* Clap if you care.

That's what I thought.

Once upon a time, at least as recently as my childhood, even if you didn't see any of the films that were nominated at the Golden Globes or any of the shows nominated at the Emmys, or any of the plays nominated at the Tonys, you'd still tune in to the red carpet coverage to see rich people at their best: playing dress up in clothes none of us can afford.

But that time has clearly passed. 'Cause what the hell is this?

Now, I haven't watched The Bear, but does Ayo Edebiri play a dishwasher? What are those gloves?

Never mind the noticeable absence of neck adornment with many perfectly fine gowns that absolutely need jewelry, what is going on!? All the wrinkled gowns, poor (or no) tailoring, ugly poufs and peplums and some of the worst shoe choices I've ever seen in my life could all be excused if it weren't all such a bore.

Minds much smarter than I have speculated that there's truly nothing new left to be done. I don't believe it. What I do believe, however, is that celebrities are scared to do it. Scared to go too far, scared to really push the envelope for fear they'll be eviscerated on social media, and so they go for what's safe and...still get eviscerated on social media.

But why are they so afraid of us not liking their outfits? Who the hell are we? Back in the day, you had Joan Rivers to impress, you had tabloids at the cash register of every supermarket just itching to put you on the Worst Dressed List, and, usually, no stylist to create your vision and make it the best it could possibly be. How have we gone so far backwards in a world that accepts Crocs as a valid fashion choice?

My earliest fashion WOW moment was Celine Dion and her backwards Galliano tuxedo which, if you're well-versed in fashion lore, you know was a total flop at the time. But we look back on it now as one of the most daring, iconic looks of the 90s.

Now, I can admit that a lot has been done, so maybe there is a lot less left to do, but, it seems like nobody wants to even try to make a moment that no one has ever seen before, and I can't help but think about how if the celebs are too scared, regular people have to be terrified to try to push the envelope. I mean, not to constantly go back to the oversaturation of pre-packaged aesthetics that one only needs to add to cart to create an entirely new identity, but, it does appear that we, as a collective, are in a real dry spell when it comes to newness. Even those constant new aesthetics are just repackaging of old ideas. Has a fear of social media backlash permeated the masses? Are we all paralyzed at the idea of being a little "out there" lest some faceless TikTokUser30592058 say something mean?

Maybe. Or maybe I could be speaking too soon. Perhaps we'll look back on some the neck-less looks of today with fondness. I could certainly make a case for Jessica Chastain's dress being one of the best tonight if only she had gone the extra mile to actually style it.

But, I don't know. When I imagine the 2023 version of a 7-year-old Lakyn--the aspiring fashion designer she was--looking at the red carpet today, I just don't see that WOW moment. Does anyone feel inspired by this?

And where the F$%K are the necklaces!!??!

[therisingphoenixden]

Prompt #28: That Surprising Vanity

Prompt: Vainglory

Characters: Berude Eijinn (WoL), Thancred Waters, Urianger Augurelt

Content Warnings: Shadowbringers spoilers.

Author’s Notes: I really won’t lie about this one. I wrote this after my brains had been scrambled by the intricacies of inventory management and AP figures while at work, then while waiting for my sleep meds to kick in. Which they did. Unexpectedly. So I kind of rushed this in an attempt to wake myself up this morning before I head off to my day job.

For as long as Berude had been a member of the Scions, it was rare to ever see Urianger out of his cowled hempen robe and usual goggles. For two years during the worst of the Primal threat, the defense of Eorzea against Garlemald, and the confrontation with Nabriales, not once had she seen him without his signature outfit. Even more recently, after the rescue of Raubahn, restoration of the Sultana, and Y’shtola’s rescue from the Lifestream, he had not deviated.

Yet once she felt the Ruin bolt dispel the Warrior of Darkness’ chains binding her and her friends and heard the Warriors of Darkness’ mysterious ally speak, she knew. He could hide behind new robes that accentuated his figure far too well for her liking and a mask, but she knew that deep, almost musical voice.

Her hands balled into fists that almost immediately relaxed when the mask was torn away. Her jaw dropped as he drew his scholar’s tome while caressing it fondly and convinced herself to chase away the traitorous thoughts brewing in the back of her mind. She wasn’t quite a widow, nor was it a new pain, but thinking such things about Urianger, of all people, suddenly felt traitorous to Haurchefant’s memory.

She was all too grateful when Alisaie spoke up with a plan to deal with the Warriors of Darkness.

–

Several years had passed since that inciting event and Berude found herself walking through the floral fields of the Fae Kingdom of Il Mheg on her way to Urianger’s home among the pixies. The ever-present light and the odd warmth it brought had her shed the heavy cropped vest and multiple belts and wraps that made her monk’s raiment.

“Glad you made it,” Thancred grumbled as he took in her state of undress. “Let’s go. He should be in.”

She frowned at this new taciturn Thancred, although she supposed it was better than drunkard Thancred. “Lead on.”

The interior was cozy enough, with several couches and armchairs scattered about. But they were nothing compared to the books and parchment scattered over every table and flat surface. It appeared her friend had at least been keeping himself busy, she reasoned as she looked at one of the sheets of parchment. The tiny scribbles were nearly enough to make her start to go cross-eyed when she heard it.

“ Unto a world weary of heroes, a hero wends her way…”

She hadn’t realized how much she had missed hearing his voice. It had only been a few weeks, just barely a moon really, since he had collapsed at the Rising Stones. But it was a relief all the same to hear his poetic words in that rich voice once again. He was here, he was alive, he was…

…wearing a black sleeveless robe decorated with chains, gemstones, and star charms with golden bangles and rings adorning his arms and hands. Around his neck was a thick golden gorget inlaid with garnets.

Her jaw dropped and all she could do was stare at him completely dumbfounded.

The conversation was almost a blur to Berude, so focused was she on this new look for Urianger. This was her friend, and he was showing an almost entirely new side of himself to her. One that beckoned trust and welcome.

The fact he now wielded a star globe and a thin holder for his own deck of sixty hadn’t escaped her notice either.

His smiles were much more freely given when she correctly identified the hand-drawn chart on the wall as one of the elemental forces of Eorzea. And once she had been caught up on the vision of her demise and what the true end goal was to save this reflection of their Star, he had pulled her aside as Thancred went to fetch Minfilia from her hastily-assigned chore.

“My friend,” he began, those intense golden eyes boring into her very soul, “ere I speak of the task at hand, there is a question I would pose to thee.” For a moment, she almost thought he was preening a little. “What thinkest thou of mine appearance?”

Berude bit her lip to keep the silly grin from her face, but she knew she was blushing from the way her cheeks burned. Perhaps a little revenge was in order for startling her with such a radical new appearance. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Come now, ‘tis scarce the first time thou hast beheld these fair features.” He returned her jab with one of his own, and they eased back into the familiar.

“I’ve never known you to be quite so…vain? Is that the right word?” Was it just her, or did the tips of his ears start to turn pink? “But, I like this. The new robes and this new openness.” Out of all the Scions she had reencountered on the First, his were the changes she liked the most. Despite his initial preening and her complete lack of comprehension upon first glimpsing this new side to her friend, there was a certain trust in shedding his old clothing for this new garb that left him so exposed. It wasn’t born out of vanity, she realized, but out of the loss of trust he had experienced. “Astrology suits you as well, I think.”

“T’was thine own studies that inspired mine own.”

That surprised her, and she found herself preening a little under his gaze. Curse her traitorous tongue for tying itself in knots at this moment! Luckily, Thancred swooped in at just the right moment to ask about the task of appeasing the pixies.

Back to business as usual.

[jasonblaze72]

27 Times Wedding Guests Stole The Show With Their Antics!

27 Times Wedding Guests Stole the Show with their antics! People enjoy weddings and occasionally witness amusing incidents that make those weddings even more memorable. Weddings are incredibly amazing because you get to witness two people publicly announcing their love for each other. However, the course of the day is not always completely predictable. There is always someone who manages to steal the attention away from the bride, whether it be due to folks drinking too much or someone forgetting the day is not all about them. These wedding guests forgot about politeness, made everyone uncomfortable to the maximum, and stole the show. Try not to make hasty decisions about who you invite to your wedding as you giggle uncontrollably at these pictures. Although these incidents might upset the groom and bride, and rightly so, these hilarious antics of the wedding guests bring a smile to the guests' faces. From a celeb attending a wedding and stealing the bride's limelight to a deer photobombing the wedding pictures, here we are with our "27 Times Wedding Guests Stole the Show with their antics!". Take a pause, enjoy every incident covered in our "27 Times Wedding Guests Stole the Show with their antics!" and tell us which one you made laugh out loud! Also read: Sherdil Shergill: Everything To Know About the Show "I Want This To Get Over Right Now!" This young groomsman is not feeling well and wants everyone to know it. We can picture him stomping down the aisle and crossing his arms at the end to sulk throughout the wedding. Despite his attitude, everyone seems to think it's funny. We wonder what led to his agitation before the ceremony. We can understand him because perhaps his tuxedo was uncomfortable, or he didn't feel like donning expensive shoes. Being a visitor at a wedding is one thing, but getting married yourself is a completely different experience that can be taxing. Mom! It's Time For My Afternoon Nap. The first photo was shot before the ceremony and the second shot was after it. She had more excitement and patience before, and you can tell she is sad that her role and moment of glory are no longer needed. Either she needs to rest before the party, or it is time to go to bed. When you are a member of the wedding party, there is a lot to do before the ceremony; the day begins early in the morning. This little child probably hasn't felt like interacting with anyone since the early hours of the morning. " Who Does Not Want Jennifer Lawrence As A Guest At Their Wedding!" The one thing we are certain about Jennifer Lawrence is that she is the most awkward celebrity. She always manages to trip over something, even though she is adorable and lovable wherever she goes. It must have been difficult for her not to steal the show when her brother married, but she had to give it her all. Jennifer undoubtedly delivered a wonderful speech because she is well known for being a goofball, and people were eager to chat with her. She is iconic, having won a Golden Globe ahead of Meryl Streep, so it's difficult to concentrate on anyone else, even the bride. I Will Be Back Once I Catch My Kids! Everyone gasped in amazement when the flower girl ran off too close to the water just as they were ready to exchange vows. She continued, and her mother responded, "I'll deal with the runner," as she set off after her. On this unique occasion, it was breathtaking to witness. The flower girl wanted to stretch her legs on the boardwalk because she was sick of standing still. It's comparable to the footage of the young child running while brandishing a knife, forcing his mother to pursue him when they were at a party. The young girl, at least, doesn't have any weapons on her. My First Experience As A Flower Girl Was Embarrassing! It's very wonderful when you initially volunteer to be a flower girl. For the first time, you get to wear a fancy outfit, receive a unique hairstyle, and get compliments on how adorable you are. For newcomers, the initial experience might be somewhat overwhelming and upsetting. She did not anticipate having so many eyes on her; it is a lot to manage. She is fortunate to have an experienced professional on her side, but that doesn't make much of a difference. She is probably more irate since people are making fun of her grief. When Meghan Markle Is Your Bridesmaid! Prince Harry's wife, Meghan Markle, a former royal, has been the talk of the town for a while. But in 2016, she was asked to be a bridesmaid at her friend's wedding before her royal wedding. It wasn't too crazy because this was before she made the news. Even though Meghan was well-known for her role in the television series Suits, she could have easily blended in at such a large event. It would have been considerably harder to go as a regular visitor if this had happened soon after her engagement or wedding. In My Defense, I Love To Dance! Do you recall the Spongebob Squarepants episode where he tears his pants, and everyone laughs at him? Like Spongebob, this groomsman danced so vigorously that he split his pants. However, he wouldn't let this wardrobe mishap prevent him from having fun. He not only danced so vigorously that his pants split but also indicated that the party was amazing. People will always remember this special wedding moment and have images to help them do so. Mom! I Don't Like This Decor! Just so you know, Mom, I don't like this arrangement. The young boy glared at his parents as he made his way down the aisle, making it evident that he did not sign up to be the ring bearer, which was not what he wanted. He nevertheless proceeded down the aisle since he followed orders.   Children are entertaining, and they never try to hide their true emotions. It's like having to control intoxicated people despite their small bodies. Everyone will keep mentioning how much he stole the show at this ceremony until he gets married. We Are Bored. Let's Go For A Swim! When you were younger, do you recall wanting to spend your entire vacation lounging by the pool? These youngsters didn't feel like seeing their parents' wedding vow renewal. He had not attended the first wedding and didn't intend to attend the second. He only wanted to sip fruit smoothies while on vacation and splash everyone by the pool. This is not what he had imagined when his folks said they were going on vacation. He likely would not have accepted the invitation if they had not forewarned him. A Live Example Of A Monster-In-Law! While loving your significant other may come naturally to you, it may not necessarily be the case for their families. Many people get along well with their in-laws, but some find it difficult, particularly when their partner is a "momma's boy." The bride clashed with her mother-in-law during the couple's wedding preparations. The bride's mother-in-law arrived at the wedding wearing a white bridal gown. It was very uncomfortable, and the photos resembled a bride-themed "Where's Waldo." Because she was treating the occasion as if it were her own wedding, the mother-in-law didn't give a damn. Are They Laughing At Me? When this bride received her wedding photos from the photographer, she was inconsolable with laughter at one specific image. The flower girl found it strange that these mature women could spontaneously chuckle. She was perplexed because it takes a lot to make a small girl laugh. "Why are they laughing? The photographer stated, "Laugh," and they immediately began to do so. " It's embarrassing to watch someone pose for fake laughing photos, and taking them yourself is extremely awkward. Bye! I Only Came Here For The Cake! A little girl won't stay warm enough in a winter or fall wedding dress. They used a pair of khaki pants underneath to keep this spunky girl warm while they posed outside for photos, rather than tights or a jacket. She doesn't appear to be interested in shooting any more pictures, even with the pair of pants. She was informed she would be compensated in cake, so she is eager to get this event going. She looks unsure if she is paid for her charming services because there isn't any cake outside. You Will Never Be Able To Guess! Ha Ha! She appears to be yawning, so hopefully, there isn't a reason to shout at a wedding. We are concerned that she is so afraid since that face resembles the face of a child in fear. Weddings should be enjoyable, not frightening. She might have seen someone wearing a white dress and been horrified by the misstep in dressing. We would similarly be screaming in a panic if someone thought it was acceptable to wear a white dress to someone else's wedding. Hey, I Want To Get Clicked Too! This gorgeous couple decided to take advantage of the natural setting at their rustic wedding by taking photos in the neighboring field. They were dressed for a woodland wedding, and the scenery was lovely, but they weren't prepared for this unexpected visitor. The bride's bouquet appeared to be a deer intruder's ideal lunch. They were alright, but they didn't want to frighten the adorable animal. It was enjoyable for everyone involved and resulted in a memorable photo. They were on a post-wedding high and didn't care that the bride stated it was like something out of a movie. Being A Priest Is A Tough Job, Too, You Know! Some people find little excitement in weddings, especially if they work in the wedding industry and interact with couples weekly. No one could locate the priest when it was time for this service. He decided to get some rest as he waited for the day to start since it was just another workday. He must have definitely forgotten to set the alarm because he was out like a light when the ceremony was meant to start. The priest mispronounced names during the vows because he was still drowsy at the moment. At least the bride and groom were aware of their impending union. I Know I Look Cute This Way Too! This young girl brought back our trust in the art of photobombing just as we were about to lose interest in it. When she noticed the camera taking pictures, she decided to flaunt the gold she had uncovered inside her nose.   Her mother grabbed her and informed her that they don't do that at weddings, just as she was ready to let the camera get up close and personal with her boogers. She added a lot of excitement and humor to this picture, despite its inappropriate use. Don't Mind Me! I'm Doing What I Need To Do. While some couples opt for indoor or church weddings, others make the most of their local area's gorgeous beaches. However, as public beaches can't be entirely rented out, the issue of stray people viewing your wedding arises when you get married on the beach. This couple's seaside wedding was interrupted by an unwanted visitor. He likely thought their archway was a fire hydrant. But since they've been together for seven years, perhaps the dog was meant to be a blessing. I Said I Needed To Eat The Cake First!  " I said I would take a photo. However, I only agreed to smile or stand up when I got my cake. His parents are wondering why he can't be easy like his older brother. The youngest one is always challenging and likes to do things in their way.  His brother is thinking, "Come on, just stand up, and they will give you whatever you want. I've done this before, and it's not that hard. " Sometimes we don't want to take pictures, so we sympathize with this little boy. NO! It's Not Cara Delevigne's Wedding!  We thought everyone knew that wearing white at someone else's wedding was a fashion faux pas. As a fashion model, Cara Delevigne should have known this rule, but she decided to wear a white dress on her sister's wedding day.  Poppy didn't seem to care that Cara was wearing white, and she might have even asked her sister to do so. However, as someone already famous, we would think she wouldn't try to stand out more than she already does. Lady Gaga Is About To Bust Out Some Dance Moves At Any Moment Now! Lady Gaga has always been a phenomenal performer dedicated to her art. She seemed to take her role as a bridesmaid quite seriously. She gladly agreed to help on the day of her friend's New Orleans wedding. Unlike most of her looks, Gaga kept her hair and makeup natural and understated. Although she made a clear effort to blend in and keep the attention on the couple, we are confident that the photographers captured additional images of this particular bridesmaid. Taylor Swift Was At My Wedding, And I Didn't Mind Being The Side Character! Taylor Swift will be recognizable in any crowd as one of the most recognizable faces in the music business. But this doesn't stop her from going to things like the wedding of her longtime closest friend. She could not refuse the invitation to serve as Britany Maack's maid of honor. Taylor remained by her buddy's side throughout it all, from the initial stages of the wedding planning to assist her friend in walking down the aisle. No one can dispute that Taylor Swift was the center of attention! "Hey! Look, I Do Not Wear Diapers Anymore!"  If any of the guests were curious, this young child has completed potty training and is currently dressed in big girl underwear. She couldn't wait to wear her brand-new Minnie Mouse undies since she was so happy to have them. Since everyone was already looking in the same direction, she seized the opportunity when she noticed it.   Her parents were probably wondering how they could have erred at such a young age when they found her a little while later. It's a relief that the bride and groom don't seem amused by the scenario, showing that they are focused on their ceremony. I Just Want To Go Home! This young child changed her mind about being the flower girl just before the ceremony. She was already through the entire day before the ceremony began because she had had enough of the photos and waiting around. It was impossible to overlook her gorgeous pouting, which dominated the show.  Being at a wedding is difficult, and nobody appreciates the demands of being a flower girl. You need to put on a dress and evenly distribute the flower petals. It's difficult to deal with everyone complimenting you on how cute you are. The Toy Truck Did Not Work Any Miracles! When you bring a young child to a wedding, you must be ready to entertain and occupy them throughout the ceremony. Nobody wants to be the parent of the crying infant who steals the show from the bride and groom. It failed to function in this instance, though.  The truck was supposed to keep this youngster occupied and quiet, but he had other ideas. He determined that the grassy area was insufficient and that it would be easier for his truck to move around in the middle of the aisle. I Think I Will Give This A Chance! She was eager to try walking down the aisle at first, but as soon as she overheard others laughing, she turned around and left. "You have no right to mock my elegant gait. You're meant to compliment me on how stunning I look in my party attire. "  How can you not find this scene amusing? The bride was meant to walk down the aisle, but everyone was too preoccupied with her mini-outburst to remember this. The audience was clamoring for an encore since she unquestionably stole the show. I'm Here To Add Some Extra Drama! You never know how your kids will behave on the big day if you have them at your wedding. One of the young relatives of this marriage served as the flower girl, and when her duties were up, she was not prepared to give up the limelight. The flower girl recognized her big opportunity during the silent prayer and seized it. Until the end of the prayer, she threw herself on the ground and wriggled around. Even the bride and groom tried to contain their laughs, but it was too funny. The flower girl knew this would not be her final act as the room erupted in laughter. It's Time To Shut It Down!  No one wants to see me when I'm cranky, so I don't care if you haven't cut the cake yet. It's time to end this celebration because it's time for me to go to bed. After a long day of wedding festivities, this little girl was party-worn and prepared to hit the road.    We long for those kinds of days when we could just collapse on the floor when we were too exhausted to interact with anyone. Those behaviors might be viewed as alarming, impolite, or chaotic. Unfortunately, adults must always behave appropriately. Also read: The House That Dragons Built Episode 7 Release Date: The Chaos Read the full article

[transgenderteensurvivalguide]

“Elliot Page doesn’t remember exactly how long he had been asking.

But he does remember the acute feeling of triumph when, around age 9, he was finally allowed to cut his hair short. “I felt like a boy,” Page says. “I wanted to be a boy. I would ask my mom if I could be someday.” Growing up in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Page visualized himself as a boy in imaginary games, freed from the discomfort of how other people saw him: as a girl. After the haircut, strangers finally started perceiving him the way he saw himself, and it felt both right and exciting.

The joy was short-lived. Months later, Page got his first break, landing a part as a daughter in a Canadian mining family in the TV movie Pit Pony. He wore a wig for the film, and when Pit Pony became a TV show, he grew his hair out again. “I became a professional actor at the age of 10,” Page says. And pursuing that passion came with a difficult compromise. “Of course I had to look a certain way.”

We are speaking in late February. It is the first interview Page, 34, has given since disclosing in December that he is transgender, in a heartfelt letter posted to Instagram, and he is crying before I have even uttered a question. “Sorry, I’m going to be emotional, but that’s cool, right?” he says, smiling through his tears.

It’s hard for him to talk about the days that led up to that disclosure. When I ask how he was feeling, he looks away, his neck exposed by a new short haircut. After a pause, he presses his hand to his heart and closes his eyes. “This feeling of true excitement and deep gratitude to have made it to this point in my life,” he says, “mixed with a lot of fear and anxiety.”

It’s not hard to understand why a trans person would be dealing with conflicting feelings in this moment. Increased social acceptance has led to more young people describing themselves as trans—1.8% of Gen Z compared with 0.2% of boomers, according to a recent Gallup poll—yet this has fueled conservatives who are stoking fears about a “transgender craze.” President Joe Biden has restored the right of transgender military members to serve openly, and in Hollywood, trans people have never had more meaningful time onscreen. Meanwhile, J.K. Rowling is leveraging her cultural capital to oppose transgender equality in the name of feminism, and lawmakers are arguing in the halls of Congress over the validity of gender identities. “Sex has become a political football in the culture wars,” says Chase Strangio, deputy director for transgender justice at the ACLU.

(Full article with photos continued under the “read more”)

And so Page—who charmed America as a precocious pregnant teenager in Juno, constructed dreamscapes in Inception and now stars in Netflix’s hit superhero show The Umbrella Academy, the third season of which he’s filming in Toronto—expected that his news would be met with both applause and vitriol. “What I was anticipating was a lot of support and love and a massive amount of hatred and transphobia,” says Page. “That’s essentially what happened.” What he did not anticipate was just how big this story would be. Page’s announcement, which made him one of the most famous out trans people in the world, started trending on Twitter in more than 20 countries. He gained more than 400,000 new followers on Instagram on that day alone. Thousands of articles were published. Likes and shares reached the millions. Right-wing podcasters readied their rhetoric about “women in men’s locker rooms.” Casting directors reached out to Page’s manager saying it would be an honor to cast Page in their next big movie.

So, it was a lot. Over the course of two conversations, Page will say that understanding himself in all the specifics remains a work in progress. Fathoming one’s gender, an identity innate and performed, personal and social, fixed and evolving, is complicated enough without being under a spotlight that never seems to turn off. But having arrived at a critical juncture, Page feels a deep sense of responsibility to share his truth. “Extremely influential people are spreading these myths and damaging rhetoric—every day you’re seeing our existence debated,” Page says. “Transgender people are so very real.”

That role in Pit Pony led to other productions and eventually, when Page was 16, to a film called Mouth to Mouth. Playing a young anarchist, Page had a chance to cut his hair again. This time, he shaved it off completely. The kids at his high school teased him, but in photos he has posted from that time on social media he looks at ease. Page’s head was still shaved when he mailed in an audition tape for the 2005 thriller Hard Candy. The people in charge of casting asked him to audition again in a wig. Soon, the hair was back.

Page’s tour de force performance in Hard Candy led, two years later, to Juno, a low-budget indie film that brought Page Oscar, BAFTA and Golden Globe nominations and sudden megafame. The actor, then 21, struggled with the stresses of that ascension. The endless primping, red carpets and magazine spreads were all agonizing reminders of the disconnect between how the world saw Page and who he knew himself to be. “I just never recognized myself,” Page says. “For a long time I could not even look at a photo of myself.” It was difficult to watch the movies too, especially ones in which he played more feminine roles.

Page loved making movies, but he also felt alienated by Hollywood and its standards. Alia Shawkat, a close friend and co-star in 2009’s Whip It,describes all the attention from Juno as scarring. “He had a really hard time with the press and expectations,” Shawkat says. “‘Put this on! And look this way! And this is sexy!’”

By the time he appeared in blockbusters like X-Men: The Last Stand and Inception, Page was suffering from depression, anxiety and panic attacks. He didn’t know, he says, “how to explain to people that even though [I was] an actor, just putting on a T-shirt cut for a woman would make me so unwell.” Shawkat recalls Page’s struggles with clothes. “I’d be like, ‘Hey, look at all these nice outfits you’re getting,’ and he would say, ‘It’s not me. It feels like a costume,’” she says. Page tried to convince himself that he was fine, that someone who was fortunate enough to have made it shouldn’t have complaints. But he felt exhausted by the work required to “just exist,” and thought more than once about quitting acting.

In 2014, Page came out as gay, despite feeling for years that “being out was impossible” given his career. (Gender identity and sexual orientation are, of course, distinct, but one queer identity can coexist with another.) In an emotional speech at a Human Rights Campaign conference, Page talked about being part of an industry “that places crushing standards” on actors and viewers alike. “There are pervasive stereotypes about masculinity and femininity that define how we’re all supposed to act, dress and speak,” Page went on. “And they serve no one.”

The actor started wearing suits on the red carpet. He found love, marrying choreographer Emma Portner in 2018. He asserted more agency in his career, producing his own films with LGBTQ leads like Freeheld and My Days of Mercy. And he made a masculine wardrobe a condition of taking roles. Yet the daily discord was becoming unbearable. “The difference in how I felt before coming out as gay to after was massive,” says Page. “But did the discomfort in my body ever go away? No, no, no, no.”

In part, it was the isolation forced by the pandemic that brought to a head Page’s wrestling with gender. (Page and Portner separated last summer, and the two divorced in early 2021. “We’ve remained close friends,” Page says.) “I had a lot of time on my own to really focus on things that I think, in so many ways, unconsciously, I was avoiding,” he says. He was inspired by trailblazing trans icons like Janet Mock and Laverne Cox, who found success in Hollywood while living authentically. Trans writers helped him understand his feelings; Page saw himself reflected in P. Carl’s memoir Becoming a Man. Eventually “shame and discomfort” gave way to revelation. “I was finally able to embrace being transgender,” Page says, “and letting myself fully become who I am.”

This led to a series of decisions. One was asking the world to call him by a different name, Elliot, which he says he’s always liked. Page has a tattoo that says E.P. PHONE HOME, a reference to a movie about a young boy with that name. “I loved E.T. when I was a kid and always wanted to look like the boys in the movies, right?” he says. The other decision was to use different pronouns—for the record, both he/him and they/them are fine. (When I ask if he has a preference on pronouns for the purposes of this story, Page says, “He/him is great.”)

A day before we first speak, Page will talk to his mom about this interview and she will tell him, “I’m just so proud of my son.” He grows emotional relating this and tries to explain that his mom, the daughter of a minister, who was born in the 1950s, was always trying to do what she thought was best for her child, even if that meant encouraging young Page to act like a girl. “She wants me to be who I am and supports me fully,” Page says. “It is a testament to how people really change.”

Another decision was to get top surgery. Page volunteers this information early in our conversation; at the time he posted his disclosure on Instagram, he was recovering in Toronto. Like many trans people, Page emphasizes being trans isn’t all about surgery. For some people, it’s unnecessary. For others, it’s unaffordable. For the wider world, the media’s focus on it has sensationalized transgender bodies, inviting invasive and inappropriate questions. But Page describes surgery as something that, for him, has made it possible to finally recognize himself when he looks in the mirror, providing catharsis he’s been waiting for since the “total hell” of puberty. “It has completely transformed my life,” he says. So much of his energy was spent on being uncomfortable in his body, he says. Now he has that energy back.

For the transgender community at large, visibility does not automatically lead to acceptance. Around the globe, transgender people deal disproportionately with violence and discrimination. Anti-trans hate crimes are on the rise in the U.K. along with increasingly transphobic rhetoric in newspapers and tabloids. In the U.S., in addition to the perennial challenges trans people face with issues like poverty and homelessness, a flurry of bills in state legislatures would make it a crime to provide transition-related medical care to trans youth. And crass old jokes are still in circulation. When Biden lifted the ban on open service for transgender troops, Saturday Night Live’s Michael Che did a bit on Weekend Update about the policy being called “don’t ask, don’t tuck.”

Page says coming out as trans was “selfish” on one level: “It’s for me. I want to live and be who I am.” But he also felt a moral imperative to do so, given the times. Human identity is complicated and mysterious, but politics insists on fitting everything into boxes. In today’s culture wars, simplistic beliefs about gender—e.g., chromosomes = destiny—are so widespread and so deep-seated that many people who hold those beliefs don’t feel compelled to consider whether they might be incomplete or prejudiced. On Feb. 24, after a passionate debate on legislation that would ban discrimination against LGBTQ people, Representative Marie Newman, an Illinois Democrat, proudly displayed the pride flag in support of her daughter, who is trans. Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene, a Georgia Republican, responded by hanging a poster outside her office that read: There are TWO genders: MALE & FEMALE.

The next day Dr. Rachel Levine, who stands to become the first openly transgender federal official confirmed by the Senate, endured a tirade from Senator Rand Paul about “genital mutilation” during her confirmation hearing. My second conversation with Page happens shortly after this. He brings it up almost immediately, and seems both heartbroken and determined. He wants to emphasize that top surgery, for him, was “not only life-changing but lifesaving.” He implores people to educate themselves about trans lives, to learn how crucial medical care can be, to understand that lack of access to it is one of the many reasons that an estimated 41% of transgender people have attempted suicide, according to one survey.

Page has been in the political trenches for a while, having leaned into progressive activism after coming out as queer in 2014. For two seasons, he and best friend Ian Daniel filmed Gaycation, a Viceland series that explored LGBTQ culture around the world and, at one point, showed Page grilling Senator Ted Cruz at the Iowa State Fair about discrimination against queer people. In 2019, Page made a documentary called There’s Something in the Water, which explores environmental hardships experienced by communities of color in Nova Scotia, with $350,000 of his own money. That activism extends to his own industry: in 2017, he published a Facebook post that, among other things, accused director Brett Ratner of forcibly outing him as gay on the set of an X-Men movie. (A representative for Ratner did not respond to a request for comment.)

As a trans person who is white, wealthy and famous, Page has a unique kind of privilege, and with it an opportunity to advocate for those with less. According to the U.S. Trans Survey, a large-scale report from 2015, transgender people of color are more likely to experience unemployment, harassment by police and refusals of medical care. Nearly half of all Black respondents reported being denied equal treatment, verbally harassed and/or physically attacked in the past year. Trans people as a group fare much worse on such stats than the general population. “My privilege has allowed me to have resources to get through and to be where I am today,” Page says, “and of course I want to use that privilege and platform to help in the ways I can.”

Since his disclosure, Page has been mostly quiet on social media. One exception has been to tweet on behalf of the ACLU, which is in the midst of fighting anti-trans bills and laws around the country, including those that ban transgender girls and women from participating in sports. Mississippi Governor Tate Reeves says he will sign such a bill in the name of “protect[ing] young girls.” Page played competitive soccer and vividly recalls the agony of being told he would have to play on the girls’ team once he aged out of mixed-gender squads. After an appeal, Page was allowed to play with the boys for an additional year. Today, several bills list genitalia as a requirement for deciding who plays on which team. “I would have been in that position as a kid,” Page says. “It’s horrific.”

All this advocacy is unlikely to make life easier. “You can’t enter into certain spaces as a public trans person,” says the ACLU’s Strangio, “without being prepared to spend some percentage of your life being threatened and harassed.” Yet, while he seems overwhelmed at times, Page is also eager. Many of the political attacks on trans people—whether it is a mandate that bathroom use be determined by birth sex, a blanket ban on medical interventions for trans kids or the suggestion that trans men are simply wayward women beguiled by male privilege—carry the same subtext: that trans people are mistaken about who they are. “We know who we are,” Page says. “People cling to these firm ideas [about gender] because it makes people feel safe. But if we could just celebrate all the wonderful complexities of people, the world would be such a better place.”

Even if Page weren’t vocal, his public presence would communicate something powerful. That is in part because of what Paisley Currah, a professor of political science at Brooklyn College, calls “visibility gaps.” Historically, trans women have been more visible, in culture and in Hollywood, than trans men. There are many explanations: Our culture is obsessed with femininity. Men’s bodies are less policed and scrutinized. Patriarchal people tend to get more emotional about who is considered to be in the same category as their daughters. “And a lot of trans men don’t stand out as trans,” says Currah, who is a trans man himself. “I think we’ve taken up less of the public’s attention because masculinity is sort of the norm.”

During our interviews, Page will repeatedly refer to himself as a “transgender guy.” He also calls himself nonbinary and queer, but for him, transmasculinity is at the center of the conversation right now. “It’s a complicated journey,” he says, “and an ongoing process.”

While the visibility gap means that trans men have been spared some of the hate endured by trans women, it has also meant that people like Page have had fewer models. “There were no examples,” Page says of growing up in Halifax in the 1990s. There are many queer people who have felt “that how they feel deep inside isn’t a real thing because they never saw it reflected back to them,” says Tiq Milan, an activist, author and transgender man. Page offers a reflection: “They can see that and say, ‘You know what, that’s who I am too,’” Milan says. When there aren’t examples, he says, “people make monsters of us.”

For decades, that was something Hollywood did. As detailed in the 2020 Netflix documentary Disclosure, transgender people have been portrayed onscreen as villainous and deceitful, tragic subplots or the butt of jokes. In a sign of just how far the industry has come—spurred on by productions like Pose and trailblazers like Mock—Netflix offered to change the credits on The Umbrella Academy the same day that its star posted his statement on social media. Now when an episode ends, the first words viewers see are “Elliot Page.”

Today, there are many out trans and nonbinary actors, directors and producers. Storylines involving trans people are more common, more respectful. Sometimes that aspect of identity is even incidental, rather than the crux of a morality tale. And yet Hollywood can still seem a frightening place for LGBTQ people to come out. “It’s an industry that says, ‘Don’t do that,’” says director Silas Howard, who got his break on Amazon’s show Transparent, which made efforts to hire transgender crew members. “I wouldn’t have been hired if they didn’t have a trans initiative,” Howard says. “I’m always aware of that.”

So what will it mean for Page’s career? While Page has appeared in many projects, he also faced challenges landing female leads because he didn’t fit Hollywood’s narrow mold. Since Page’s Instagram post, his team is seeing more activity than they have in years. Many of the offers coming in—to direct, to produce, to act—are trans-related, but there are also some “dude roles.”

Downtime in quarantine helped Page accept his gender identity. “I was finally able to embrace being transgender,” he says.

Page was attracted to the role of Vanya in The Umbrella Academy because—in the first season, released in 2019—Vanya is crushed by self-loathing, believing herself to be the only ordinary sibling in an extraordinary family. The character can barely summon the courage to move through the world. “I related to how much Vanya was closed off,” Page says. Now on set filming the third season, co-workers have seen a change in the actor. “It seems like there’s a tremendous weight off his shoulders, a feeling of comfort,” says showrunner Steve Blackman. “There’s a lightness, a lot more smiling.” For Page, returning to set has been validating, if awkward at times. Yes, people accidentally use the wrong pronouns—“It’s going to be an adjustment,” Page says—but co-workers also see and acknowledge him.

The debate over whether cisgender people, who have repeatedly collected awards for playing trans characters, should continue to do so has largely been settled. However, trans actors have rarely been considered for cisgender parts. Whatever challenges might lie ahead, Page seems exuberant about playing a new spectrum of roles. “I’m really excited to act, now that I’m fully who I am, in this body,” Page says. “No matter the challenges and difficult moments of this, nothing amounts to getting to feel how I feel now.”

This includes having short hair again. During our interview, Page keeps rearranging strands on his forehead. It took a long time for him to return to the barber’s chair and ask to cut it short, but he got there. And how did that haircut feel?

Page tears up again, then smiles. “I just could not have enjoyed it more,” he says.”

[yanderememes]

Solitary Love Chapter 11 (Yandere Giorno Giovanna x Reader)

In honour of Giorno's belated birthday, here's the next chapter! I was hoping to release this yesterday, on his actual bday but we can't always have nice things 😭

I also had to cut it near the end cuz it was getting pretty long. But on the bright side, some of chapter 12 is done!

When you open your eyes and awoke from your slumber, you realize it wasn’t a dream. It's real because you woke up in the exact same room as before. You sat on the edge of your bed, pondering about the events that have happened so far.

You spoke with a man who was trapped in a turtle. You met a sweet old lady named Maria who seemed to be the only one who empathized with you. But most importantly, you saw Giorno again, the man who is your captor. The man who completely betrayed your trust.

Well, you never completely trusted him. After all, he was still a stranger and you had your intuitions about him before. But you would have never guessed it would resort to this. Giorno’s words kept ringing in your ear like an alarm that won’t shut off.

“This room is your sanctuary”

Sanctuary? A safe haven? Who or what is he supposedly trying to keep you safe from? You’re just a grad student. What threat could you possibly pose?

“Because I love you. I want nothing more but to have a loving relationship with you”

You find those words hard to believe. He wants to be lovers? Then why didn’t he just ask you out like a normal person?!

“You can never see them again”

You look at the time where the clock reads 9:24 AM. By now, your class must have returned home and off to see their families. Cheering and celebrating their return after an eventful trip across the globe. Relaxing and just spending time with the ones they love.

Except you. You’re still here in Italy in someplace you’re still not sure where exactly this place is. But you do know one thing. You miss your family. You miss your friends. However, you know you can’t give up. They must have already realized something was wrong and contacted appropriate authorities in search of you. It won’t be long before you can be with them again. You know this to be true. You can’t lose hope!

Your phone was also missing. Of course. No way any kidnapper would let their victim keep their phone on them.

“I wonder how they are,” you mumble to yourself.

“Buongiorno, bambina. Shall we get you ready for the day?”

You look up to see who it was hat entered your room. It was Maria who had a smile on her face. Somehow, seeing her lifted your mood a little bit. She was very kind to you yesterday.

“Buongiorno, Maria. But get me ready for what?”

“For breakfast, of course! You didn’t eat at all yesterday!” Maria spoke as she opened your walk-in closet doors. “It couldn’t be helped, after all. I doubt you had an appetite with all the emotions you were feeling yesterday.”

Maria walked in and began to sift through the large assortment of clothes hanging on the wall. “I’m sure you worked up an appetite, hm? Non preoccuparti, Matteo fixed you up a breakfast that is worthy of kings.” 

“Matteo?”

“He’s the chef here, bambina. He’ll be in charge of prepping all of your meals”

You let out a small “oh,” as you still couldn't really stomach any food right now. Did you truly go the whole day yesterday with no food at all? It didn’t feel like it but that’s probably because there’s just too much going on to even think about food. The sound of breakfast didn’t sound appetizing to you at all. The only thing on your mind was how to escape and go home.

“Maria-”

“I've picked your outfit for the day. Why don’t you go take a shower first and I’ll bring your food up?”

Outfit? Now that Maria has mentioned it, you weren’t even wearing the costume you wore for the festival a few days ago. You were in a nightgown, did Maria and the other maids dress you while you were unconscious? You pray it was. The thought of your captor changing your clothes while you’re blacked out made your stomach churn. While you weren’t hungry, you had to admit that a shower was much needed. How many days has it been since you last took a shower?

Raising from your bed, you walked over to your bathroom while Maria left the room to fetch your breakfast. 

When you walked into the bathroom, your eyes widened. It was such a fancy bathroom! It looked like an entirely different room despite literally being a bedroom bathroom. The walls and floors were made of white marble with a chandelier as the source of light. The bathtub was about twice your size and if you didn’t want to take a bath, there was a waterfall shower just adjacent to the tub. 

Opting to take a shower, you stood there under the waterfall showerhead that enveloped you in hot water that steamed the glass coverings. You couldn't help but let out a relieved sigh. The fragrances of the shampoo smelt heavenly. A shower was exactly what you needed to get away (temporarily) from the craziness of your current life so far. Still, you wondered why you were being treated so nicely when you’re supposed to be a prisoner? Why the lavish room and given services of maids and butlers who are at your every beck and call? What is Giorno playing here?

Maria was probably waiting for you outside with your breakfast set already. Not wanting to keep her waiting, you begrudgingly turn off the showerhead and grab the towel to dry yourself. 

Shit. You forgot to bring the clothes Maria picked for you into the bathroom with you. You hoped she wouldn’t be waiting outside of this bathroom just to see you half-naked with a towel to cover you. 

Peaking your head out the bathroom door, you didn’t detect any signs of life. Thankful that no one would see you like this, you quickly ran to your closet to get changed. The clothes she picked weren’t bad. In fact, it matched your style a lot and strangely enough, it was in your exact size. 

Looking around your closet, you noticed how even this part of the room looked completely different. It was filled with luxury brand names in clothing, shoes, and purses.

Dior, Prada, Louis Vitton, Chanel, Gucci, and more and more luxury brands all across the world was sitting in your closet.

But what was the most alarming piece was how each and every article of clothing matched your exact measurements. It was clear that each design was custom made, specifically tailored to fit just you.

How the hell did he get your measurements? The thought of this made you shiver. Quickly throwing on your outfit, you exited your closet to see if Maria was back yet.

Before you could even acknowledge Maria’s presence, the scene before you took away your breath.

Maria was right. The breakfast was certainly rightful for a king, if not a bit over the top. Breakfast covered your table all around. It looked like a scene from a movie where the protagonist would come downstairs to the dining table and have eggs, sausages, waffles, sandwiches, pancakes, and more, all available to him. Mountains coupons mountains of food. You weren’t sure how on Earth you were gonna eat this all. 

“I don’t think I can finish this, Maria.”

She giggles, “you won’t be eating breakfast alone, y/n.”

You realized that there could only be one person she’s talking about who’d accompany you in today’s meal. The thought of him made your heart race, whether it was due to fear or anger towards the man was unknown to you. You only knew you didn’t want him around.

The prominent click on your bedroom door opened and low and behold, it was him. Your captor, Giorno Giovanna who entered your room.

With the entrance of the Don, Maria promptly bowed and left the room, shutting the door behind her and locking it. God, you wished she didn’t leave. You’d much rather have her as company than Giorno right now.

“What are you doing here?” you asked weakly. You had hoped to sound braver so you could stand up to him, but it proved to be difficult since he holds the controller over your life currently.

“I wanted to have breakfast with you.”

That’s it? He didn’t come here to toture you? Ask you questions about how to get ransom from your parents? Threaten to kill you?

“Shall we?” he gestured.

***

You sat there in silence, across the table of Giorno with this splendid-looking breakfast between the two of you. Your plate still empty as you refused to eat while Giorno was dining by himself.

He broke the silence first, “Did you sleep well?”

“I guess,” you shrugged. If you count crying yourself to sleep as a good night’s sleep.

“I made sure Matteo prepared a nutritious meal for you so that you may regain all your lost strength. Is the breakfast not appealing?”

How thoughtful of your captor…

“On the contrary, I think it looks divine. I’m just not hungry.”

You had no appetite. You only stared at this feast, not making any moves to even hold any utensils. Too many things going through your mind with all that has happened so far. Well, you were kidnapped so your body is probably still in fight or flight mode. Too worked up to relax your digestive system and register hunger.

Giorno noticed your lack of movement and spoke, “Even if you’re not hungry, you should still eat. Your mind might not register it but the body never lies about its needs.”

You were taken aback. Did he read your mind? His answer was hinting at exactly what you believed was the reasoning behind your lack of hunger. You try to dismiss it though as just a mere coincidence.

Giorno took another bite of his eggs and sausage before speaking again, “I’m sure you have plenty of questions you want to ask me. Ask away.”

Not one to miss this opportunity, you spitted all the questions you had.

“Where are we?”

“We are in my private villa. It’s a little bit aways from the city but there is no one around here for miles.”

“Why did you kidnap me?”

“As I said before, to keep you safe”

“Safe from what?”

“From everything. The world is a dangerous place. Filled with many filthy people who would take advantage of the few good people left in this world, such as yourself”

He spoke with such conviction and with an almost scary matter-of-voice reasoning which intimidated you. You didn’t want to ask this question but you had to know. What fate lies for you as his victim here, “W-what's going to happen to me?” your voice shaked.

“Nothing will happen to you. I can assure you. Cameras and guards are placed all over this villa to protect you.”

“Where’s my phone?”

“Oh yes,” he reached into his pockets and pulled out your phone, “I shall return this to you”

Taking your phone back into your hands, you noticed there was no cell service. No, there wasn’t even a sim card inside. He gave you back a useless phone. What were you supposed to do with this? 

You played around with your phone and searched all around to see what he could have done. All of your social medias have been deleted but strangely enough you have internet access. There was almost nothing left in your storage, practically leaving no signs that this phone was ever yours.

“Naturally, I took the sim card out so you won’t be able to make any outgoing calls. Conversely, you’ll receive no incoming calls either. The location services have been permanently disabled from your phone so that your safety will not be jeopardized. I have hired a special team of bodyguards to keep watch over you when I am away. They will ensure your safety.”

When you peeled your eyes away from your phone and locked eyes with him, Giorno took this as a signal to continue, “All persons in this villa are to serve you and meet your needs. However, they are forbidden from speaking with you.”

“How are they supposed to service me if I can’t even talk to them?” your face scrunched. Everything Giorno had said so far was somewhat reasonable and made some logical sense to you. But this explanation seemed off.

“You can speak with them but they cannot respond to you.”

“Why?”

Giorno took a while to respond to this question. Unlike the several previous questions where he quickly always gave an answer, this time he seemed hesitant. “Conversation can lead to forming friendships and obscure objectivity. It will impact their line of work whether they know it or not.”

In hindsight, what Giorno said made sense. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only a partial truth. He was hiding his real reasoning behind the ‘no talking’ rule which you’re determined to find out why. 

“Why are we having breakfast here in my room?” surely, this grand villa couldn’t possibly be lacking a dining room.

“Well, I know there are a lot of… adjustments in your life, so I wanted you to comfortable with your room first before exposing you to the rest of the villa. While you can freely do as you wish here, in time, the entire villa will also be yours to do as you see fit.” Giorno was careful in his words, not wanting to scare you while explaining the logistics of your new home.

You tried to process all the information he gave you but there was one itching question you have been asking yourself since you first Giorno. He did say you could ask him anything and he has obliged throughout your entire conversation well enough. You might as well ask.

“Who are you?” 

Giorno puts down his fork and knife seeing as he finished his plate and leans back in his chair, crossing his legs, “To many, I am Don Giovanna. But for you, cara, I am Giorno.”

Don Giovanna?

Where have you heard this before?

I know, bambina. But Don Giovanna isn’t a man you want to cross. It’s best if you stay here and don’t ignite his anger.

Don…

Don Giovanna? Were you waiting here all this time for me?

Don…?

Don Giovanna?

Then it clicks. It’s all starting to make sense. Why Giorno always knew where you were. Why everyone respects but also fears him. Why he could afford such a lavish villa and those expensive suits he always wears. Why he can hire these ‘special’ bodyguards and why Polnareff and Maria doubted rescue was coming.

You didn’t want to say it. Frankly, you were scared to. If he is what you think he is then it makes this whole situation all the more frightening, knowing the kind of man you’re dealing with. But it certainly wouldn’t be far-fetched and that’s what scared you more. That you were probably right.

“You’re a mafia boss.”

Giorno was completely unfazed, “Si.”

“Did you kill them?” your body began to tremble. You stared at the ground, unable to bring yourself to make eye-contact with this terrifying man now knowing his position.

“No. Your friends are safe. They made it back home yesterday afternoon and are reunited with their families.”

He could be lying for all you know. What if he told his men to kill them that night at the festival right after he whisked you away? But maybe it’s because your a psychology student or you wanted to have some blind faith that made you believe he wasn’t lying. He was telling you the truth.

Tightening your fists and clenching your teeth, you mustered all the strength you could gather when in the face of a mafia boss and faced him, “Giorno. Please, let me go. I won’t tell anyone, I swear! If the police ask, I’ll make something up. So please, let me go home!”

“I can’t let you leave. Its too dangerous out there”

“But-!”

He sighed, he grew tired of having this back-and-forth, “y/n, one thing you should about me is that I hate repeating myself. It's useless when once is sufficient. Your safety is of the utmost importance to me. This has nothing to do with my occupation and famiglia,” taking a look at his watch, Giorno stood up, “I must go, please, continue your meal without me. I’ll see you soon.”

[miekasa]

Things the aot characters would match with u ?

Eren

Sneakers. It makes him somewhat giddy when you guys wear them at the same time, particularly if it was unplanned. 

He just thinks they look nice, and it’s something that you guys can match with that doesn’t look completely obvious or cringe. You can wear them at the same time or on your own, but for Eren it’s really just knowing that you’re wearing something he bought you.

Not matching matching per se, but one of my favorite things to think about is Eren having his key necklace, and buying you one with a lock on it. Again, matching but not over the top.

Jean

Maybe simple jewelry? Like plain, gold or silver bracelets/rings—nothing too much, but you guys still know it’s there. Watches might be a bigger splurge, but he’s willing to do it, especially if they’re nice and classy.

Once he knows you’re okay with jewelry, you’ve gotta be careful with him. He’ll ice you out if you don’t stop him. He has a sorta refined taste where you’ll get something, and think “Hey, this is really nice,” and then boom, the price tag could pay for your courses for a semester. 

Other little things like matching/coordinating phone cases, you guys each having mugs from the same place, even little charms on your keychains that match together.

Water bottles. This was more so him buying you one (and yes, it was an overpriced Hydroflask) to make sure you’re drinking enough water. If you don’t think he’ll force feed it to you if he notices that your bottle is heavy, then you thought wrong.

Levi

Lots of the things are pretty practical, and are the result of Levi buying it for you because he thought you needed it, or needed a better version of it; so, in a way, it’s not intended to match, but because he buys what he already has and knows works, you end up with a copy, so inadvertent matching 😌

For example, he’ll buy you mittens or gloves if you don’t have any, or if he thinks the ones you have are shit and need better insulation. They happen to be the same ones he has because he knows those work, so now you’re matching. Same goes for things like lunch boxes, water bottles, even the towels in your apartment.

Plants. Again, he probably intervened saying you need some source of fresh air in your house, or something smart like that. If you don’t have a green thumb, don’t worry because he’s practically taking care of it for you. Occasionally he’ll note how your plant is doing in comparison to his and it’s pretty cute to hear his little plant parent rambles while he’s watering them.

Matching aprons. It’s cute, don’t let him tell you otherwise; and if he does, you know he’s fronting, because he always wears his when he’s cooking, anyway.

Connie

Tattoos if you’re down for it. It can be as simple or stupid or extravagant as you want, you honestly have full control over the design even tho it’s going on his body please. He doesn’t care—he trusts you, and he wants to match with you, so whatever you want, wherever you want it!

Sneakers for him too, but I think he’d go as far as to have matching/coordinating outfits with you. Particularly sweats and crew necks and hoodies, and if you guys are traveling together, then you’re more than likely matching at the airport.

He probably put some stupid sticker or decal on your car that you’re stuck with now. Good luck. He put the same shit on his so at least you can look dumb together.

Armin

Stickers, whether it be on your laptop or phone case or water bottle or even just in your room; he’s got one and you’ve got one.

Stuffed animals. He has a lot that he just buys for you, but you guys go on a Build-a-Bear date and make bears of each other at some point, and it’s kinda cute. He keeps his on a shelf close to his bed so it’s safe and sound.

Stationary, like pencil cases and pens and such. They don’t have to be fancy with your initials engraved at the top, but you guys buy them in sets of 2 so you have the same stuff, and get cases to store everything that match, too.

Porco

Something cute that you put in his car that he doesn’t have the heart to remove, no matter how much he bitches about it. Like those little sticky rubber ducks with the glasses that go on your dash.

Gym bags. Yes, he’s a gym bro. No, he doesn’t care if you’re not. Allegedly they were “two for one” at the Adidas outlet, so now you’ve got one. It can double as a duffle bag if you’re not getting any practical gym use of it. 

You could probably get him to wear matching rings as long as they’re not too obvious; just a simple gold band is really the furthest he’ll go (he never takes it off, but don’t point it out or he’ll chuck it at you).

Mikasa

Some kind of accessory—bracelets, hats, necklaces, scarves. She’s into that kinda stuff, just don’t make a big deal of it when you’re in public or she’ll get embarrassed please.

Pins. You’ve got one on your jacket and she’s got one on her book bag or something. Again, they don’t have to be identical; you can get two different Pokémon, or references to a show you both like.

Lipstick. You don’t have to both wear it at the same time, but it’s still something sweet to have.

Sasha

Charm bracelets! The charms themselves don’t all have to be identical (tho at least one of them would be), but just the fact that you guys both have them and are collecting charms at a similar rate is cute.

Definitely matching cups or mugs or something of the like. Kitchen towels with the same pattern or each other’s initials on them. Matching shot glasses, too, obviously. 

Your home/lock screens match, too. Pictures of each other from the same day or of the same scenery or something. She always lets you know when she’s gonna change hers so you can change yours too.

Annie

Hoodies. They can be solid colored, or two if the same ones just in different colors. Hoodies are kind of her go-to look, and nothing that draw too much attention anyways; so she doesn’t mind having the same one as you.

Backpacks. Again, they don’t have to be exactly the same and can be relatively simple in design; and is something most people have anyway, so it’s not outlandish. She seems like a Kanken kinda girl, so you both can have one in different colors.

Pieck

Jewelry. Strikes me as the type to be okay with getting each other’s initials on necklaces or earrings or something, but it could also be more covert like having each other’s birthstones on a pendant.

Speaking of stones, you’re getting crystals whether you like it or not. They will be on your nightstand, they will be in your car, they will be in your jacket pocket, they might even be in your bra and don’t ask her how she got them there without you knowing. They’re in hers too if that makes you feel any better.

Hange

Jackets or sweaters. Wanna say matching cardigans in particular, and yeah, they’re pretty ugly but that’s the point! To bask ironically in the pointed ugliness of them all so much that it becomes cute to you.

Snow globes. Hange is obsessed with them, whenever you travel they collect one and sometimes even if they just pass a store at home and see two unique (translation: weird looking) ones, they’ll pick them up. So, congrats.

Socks with funky patterns on them. Beer bottles, weed plants, zodiac signs, dinosaurs—whatever Hange buys, they buy in packs of two so at least you’ll never run out of ankle socks.

[allegra-writes]

"The Game"

Tom Holland x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut, daddy kink.

Golf is boring. You wanna play something else...

"Swinging on the front porch, swinging on the floor.

Swinging where we want, cause there ain't nobody home..."

Cherry Pie - Warrant

He should have known it was a trap. He should have known it from the very first minute. This was punishment, plain and simple punishment. Unusually cruel punishment. He didn't even know why he was so surprised, in fact, he should have seen it coming a mile away. After all, you were about as subtle as a train wreck. And that was exactly how you had hitted him. 

You had always despised golf, said it was snobbish and boring. But he always invited you to tag along just in case, because sharing one of his favorite activities with his favorite girl? That sounded almost like paradise to him. That was probably the reason why that morning, when you had jumped at the chance to join him at the country club, he hadn't suspected a thing.

Oh, how naive he was. How trusting of him. Because now, he had to play 18 while trying to conceal a throbbing, almost painful erection, watching you prance around wearing that. It was ridiculous. It was silly. It was cliche.

It was driving him completely insane.

Your little ensemble was straight out of some soft-porn movie set, he was sure of it: Keds, knee high socks… and a criminally short pleated skirt, especially designed to torture him. You guys weren't even half way through, and he was already about to snap, with his arms enveloping you, hands over yours on the handle of the club, as you bended over just a little, ass pressing against his pelvis just enough to tease him, to remind him how good it felt being buried to the hilt inside your tight, tight heat, the slapping sounds of skin against skin combining with your moans...

One of his hands let go of the club, subconsciously wrapping itself over your hip bone, when you moved, twisting, hips getting away from his. 

"Oh my god! I can't believe it, did you see that?" You turned around to face him, eyes alight with joy at having hit the ball for the first time in your life. 

And for a second, he felt bad. He was probably reading too much into it, chances were you didn't even know what you were doing to him. You were innocent in all that, it wasn't your fault not knowing just how damn irresistible you were, how hard you made him just by standing close to him…

Until he noticed the outline of your nipples under your white t-shirt, made almost see through under the bright sunlight. His eyes squinted in suspicion.

"Are you wearing any underwear?" He blurted out, cheeks immediately turning red, looking around to make sure no one had heard him. But there was no one around, not many people playing on a wednesday morning. In fact, you had the whole course pretty much for your selves.

His cock twitched inside his pants, but he shook himself, squashing the thought before it could take full shape.

You seemed to ignore him, as your face fell.

"I… don't think I was supposed to shoot it that way, though" 

Tom's eyes followed yours, but try as he might, he couldn't find the white dot he was looking for.

"Where the hell did it go?"

"I think it landed behind those bushes" You pointed to the far away patch of hydrangeas on the other side of the field. He couldn't help the snort that left his mouth,

"Yeah, that's not even close to where it should be!"

"Hey! Don't laugh at me"

"I mean, at least we know you have a strong swing" He let out between laughs

You rolled your eyes,

"Be gentle with me, this is my first time" 

The laughter died in his throat like you knew it would, as the innuendo hit him, eyes darkening as they roved over your body once again. You had to know what you were doing... 

You turned around so he couldn't see your smirk, as you started walking in big strides in the direction of the bushes, leaving him to struggle to follow you, carrying the bag full of clubs. 

It wasn't a bad sight, he had to admit, watching you walk ahead of him, your skirt bouncing with your movements, hips swaying gently from side to side. And it was even better as you reached the tall plants, parting the branches trying to see past them, bending over once again, your short skirt riding up your thighs, higher, and higher. He gulped, what little blood was left in his brain rushing south, as he saw the cleft where the round globes of your ass met your legs. You climbed on your tiptoes, and he choked on a groan: just a little bit more and the answer to whether you had or not any underwear on would be right before his eyes, literally…

"Found it!" You called out, victorious, falling to your heels again, walking around the lilac flowers, disappearing from sight, heedless to his disappointment. 

He knew it was a bad idea, as he trailed after you, like in a trance. But there you were, waiting for him behind the tall wall of bushes hiding you both from sight from every angle, mischievous glint in your eye.

The ball was nowhere to be found, and he finally understood.

Your stomach made a flip as Tom tugged at his glove with his teeth, discarding it on the green grass, his whole demeanor changing before your eyes, jaw squaring, eyes hardening, movements slow and measured as he circled you like a tiger stalking his prey. 

"You dirty little liar" He accused, watching the corners of your mouth twitch, trying to hide your satisfied smile, but it was useless: you looked every bit like the cat that got the cream. Well, he knew of another thing that looked great dripping down your chin…

"You think you're real clever, don't you? Really sneaky, teasing me all morning with this little outfit," He let his now naked hand trace your nipples, already hard under the fabric of your tee, making goosebumps erupt on your skin. He was right, you hadn't bothered with a bra, "making me hard with your little touches and smart mouthed comments…"

"Golf is boring" You shrugged, "I wanna play something else" 

He stepped back, away from you, leaving you feeling cold without his heat, despite the bright sunshine. 

"Too bad, baby girl, I'm done with games" His eyes were steel as he commanded, "Show me"

"Show you what?" You looked at him through your eyelashes, you knew how much he liked it when you played coy. But this time, he had told you the truth, the games were over.

"You know bloody well what" His south London accent was always heavy when his patience was wearing thin, "lift that little skirt and show me what's mine" 

You obeyed, and this time, he did groan, the wet patch on the simple white cotton of your thong almost better than his fantasies of your bare skin. 

He fell to his knees on the grass. God, he was so whipped! His plan had been to have you kneeling in front of him, choking on his cock as he fucked your mouth so deep and hard that tears would stream down your face. He would release himself down your throat, leaving you begging for his softening cock, his fingers, his tongue, his freaking golf club, anything to fill your empty little cunt. But of course all of that flew out the window the second he actually saw that pretty pussy through your panties, made almost transparent with your desire for him, the fabric clinging to every curve, every little detail clear for him to admire.

"Come here, baby girl" His tone was much softer as he spoke, "let daddy have a little taste" 

You did as you were told, never stopping to hold your skirt up high for him. Tom nuzzled the cotton, breathing you in before hooking one finger on the damp fabric, tugging gently to the side to reveal your most secret spot to him. He let his tongue poke out, placing kitten licks against your clit, eyes rising to meet your face. Your own were closed already, little frown between your eyebrows, as if the tiny shocks of pleasure coursing through your body confused you. So expressive. So responsive. 

How could he ever stay mad at you when you were so fucking perfect? It only took one taste of you to melt whatever was left of his anger, as he marveled of the angel whining so prettily above him, delicate fingers digging into his shoulders to support herself as her legs shook for him. It never failed to amaze him, to blow his mind. It had always been like that, he had put you up on a pedestal long before you had started dating. 

But now, he wanted to lay you down, and spread you open under the sun. 

He tsked at your huff as his tongue left you.

"No, baby, you don't get to complain today. You've been a very bad girl, so now," He helped you down onto your back on the grass, making quick work of your panties. Taking a hold of your ankles, he hooked them over his shoulders, aligning himself with your dripping center, "you're going to take my cock like a good girl" 

With that, he let his head breach you, entering you slowly, so slowly. Savoring every second, sliding in inch by inch, making you feel every millimeter of his thick, thick length as he buried it into your sweet pussy, stretching you to the limits of pleasure. He had you fold almost in half, as his pelvis finally met yours. You sighed, you had thought he would burst through your ovaries before he was completely seated inside you.

"Can you feel me, babygirl? Feel how deep I am?" 

You nodded, unable to form words. He relented, only a couple of inches, before surging back in. 

"Feel me stretching your tight little cunt? Fuck, it feels so snug…"

He drew back again, snapping back against you harder, making you cry out,

"Yes!"

"Only I can fill you like this" He breathed, in and out again, and again. And again, establishing a harsh rhythm, "This pussy belongs to me…" 

"Yes, daddy" You sobbed, obediently. By now you knew exactly what he wanted to hear. He tugged at your t-shirt, sneaking his hand under it, massaging your breast. 

"These pretty tits are mine…"

It was hard to concentrate with him railing you into the ground, fast, brutal. Making sure the base of his cock dragged against your clit just right with every thrust.

"Yours, daddy" You managed, somehow, earning yourself a smile. If wolves could really smile at lambs before gobbling them right up...

He leaned forwards, bracing himself on one arm, the other travelling from your chest, to your neck. To your jaw. His tumb caressed your lower lip, and you opened up to him. Two of his fingers slid inside your mouth, pressing down on your tongue, you sucked them eagerly, hollowing your cheeks just the way he liked. 

"My princess… so pretty with your mouth full" Tom praised, hips never stopping, plunging his cock into you as far as it would go, over and over again, "wanna fuck your beautiful face… but this pussy… feels too good"

You sobbed around his fingers.

"So good… won't let me go… a slave" His thrusts were becoming messy. Erratic. Tom took his fingers out of your mouth to flick your clit with them.

"No, Tommy! Too much…" You cried, pushing at his hand, overstimulated. But he wouldn't budge. 

"Don't care. You're gonna take it" He growled, but sweetly kissed away your tears. He needed you to come, fast. Because there was no way he was lasting much longer, and you knew what to say if you really wanted him to stop anyway. 

"Fuck… yeah, just like that" he could feel you tensing around him. You were almost there, and he was right behind you, "so good… gonna come, baby girl. Gonna come inside you…" 

You shook your head, too delirious to express it with words, but he knew. You didn't like feeling dirty, didn't like the smell. But he fucking loved it. 

"Oh yeah… gonna fill you up… and you're not getting those panties back" His smirk was devilish, filthy. And you were sure that, even without his cock jackhammering into you, you could have come from that look alone. "Gonna see myself dripping down your thighs as you walk…"

His movements were downright sloppy now, as his words edged himself as much as they were edging you.

"Gonna have you sit in the car just like that… ruin your fucking little skirt… OH, FUCK" 

You felt his cock swell, pumping his seed inside your loins. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from screaming, as his climax unleashed your own. Still, he kept moving,

"Gonna put your mouth around me while I drive…" There was no way the morning was ending without him having your mouth.

"Tom…" You could feel him begin to soften inside you, but he still wouldn't stop.

"Shhh, baby girl. Wanna make a mess…"

The end.

Buy me a coffee

[skippyv20]

Is JH paying to play or getting paid?

Hi Skippy & Friends-Pilgrim with some thoughts after viewing recent photos of the Harkles at polo. This batch has Mayhem sporting white short shorts, sandles and an oversized button-down shirt, billowing to offset her lower half I suspect. It seems to me she is acting like she knows the game so she can smooze on the sidelines, evidenced by her carrying his polo sticks etc. She can set up their little rest tent too where team players take much needed breaks and light refreshment during games. In the new set of snaps, it looks like Nacho's wife is showing her the ropes. One thing I would add about her silly outfit is there are biting flies around horses even these very groomed ones. Sandles are just silly because on the sidelines there is always horse poop even with trainers keeping it to a minimum, not to mention horses possibly stepping on one's feet...so flies and poop and not protected. But wait, she rode a horse on a trail ride once when she was a young girl so that makes her and expert now.

Like any competitive sport, the best polo players get paid to be on teams. Players are rated with handicaps 1-10, 10 being the highest. There are only a handful of 10s on the globe. I have watched many incredible high goal games where the lowest player on the field was rated 7. These games are action packed and fast with expert ball placement and passing strategy to the goal posts. Riders are superbly skilled in top physical condition, seemingly floating on mounts, most often mares, that are highly tuned in to their every tilt and cue. It is so different from low goal games where strategy is diminished due to riders' skill and caliber of ponies. Even so, one can always admire the huge effort players need to put into their games showing up with trailers, animals, gear and groomers ready to play 6 chukkas lasting 7 minutes each. 42 minutes shared by a team of 4 on polo ponies at full gallop on a field the size of 10 football fields lined up side by side. Bring your binocs and cameras with long lenses. (a good reference is the article on horseracingsense.com about polo expenses.)

Now, I wonder if JH (rated 1 or 2) who has started a new team with Nacho (rated 6) is getting paid to play or is paying to have a team. He would need at least several million a year to pay for his own team. Perhaps they have procured major sponsorship to cover costs including salaries? Seeing Mayhem there makes me think this is a job for her husband to bring home some bacon. He seems to be trying to get back into shape with coaches-mental and physical but at his age he is already at a disadvantage. Of course she will show up where there is a paycheck and exposure. Will she bring the darling dolls to the big game all decked out with nannies and pets like the other wives do who support their husbands careers? Time will tell. Over and out for now...long live the queen!

Love this! Thank you for the insight, greatly appreciated. “darling dolls”😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

[a-driftamongopenstars]

in the spirit of festival of the lost: tower trick or treating!

ghosts chaperoning kids in homemade costumes around to knock on doors, Ikora gives out best candy, Saint and Osiris answering their door together, maybe eliksni trying to participate?? anything you want just make it Adorable 🎃🎃🎃

ahhhh that is CUTE! thank you for the prompt! this is also accidental o14, it just happened :D hope you like it!

also on ao3

Quite a few traditions have made it into the current day in the Last City, despite the majority of them being lost to time. One such tradition being dressing up and sharing the candy among each other!

Come Festival of the Lost, and bags and bowls of candy begin appearing on every porch, on every corner. There is the classic candy corn, there are terrifying eye-shaped jellies, strange beans and sour surprises in sweet shells.

Children of the City work hard to earn that candy. All kinds of homemade Shaxxes and Saint-14s start appearing in the streets. Quite a few Ikoras, too, and extremely adorable Zavalas. Heroes of the City, now in mini-version, dressed in awkwardly glued together outfits that would melt even the Stasis.

And the said heroes try their best to live up to their name in the little deeds they can add to their daily life-saving operations.

Zavala keeps a small candy bag on his person at all times, filled with healthier snacks, Saint-14 generously offers handfuls of sweets to children, and Ikora, selective about her offer, gives our craved chocolates.

Even Osiris, now recovering after being returned home from his imprisonment with Savathun, participates in the festive delights. He is home when a knock on the door happens - and he is joined by Saint to answer.

Both know who awaits there.

A flock of children, among which even one eliksni child is participating. One is dressed in a large globe of the Traveler, the eliksni child sports something resembling Mithrax's mask, while one other child clearly represents a Ghost.

It is all the more ridiculous as the said child is accompanied by a stray Ghost, hovering above her little head.

"Trick-o-treat!" the children squeal, causing Saint to boom with laughter. Osiris smiles, his eyes tiredly brushing over the visitors.

"I think they deserve a treat!" Saint insists, grabbing a basket of sweets and shoving it in Osiris' hands.

"You've been saying that to all children today, Saint," Osiris says quietly, not without an affectionate note in his voice. In reply he receives a gentle nudge in the back.

Sweets are given to the excited children to excite them even more, and they scurry away to the next door to get another portion of their reward.

Osiris turns to Saint, settling aside the candy basket.

"Keep looking at me like that, Warlock, and you will be eating that candy corn for dinner," Saint smiles, bringing Osiris into his arms and closing the door.

"I would say "make me", but I fear you would follow through with that threat," Osiris replies. His heart blooms with warmth of a familiar embrace, voice, and the so craved joy.

"Bah, I know what you are fishing for. Trick or treat?"

"Treat," Osiris replies, biting a smile away.

And Saint-14, without further ado, delivers by kissing him on the mouth.

[reidingmelodies]

Dinos and Tigers and Donuts, Oh My!

Summary: Spencer wanted one thing this year: for your kids to plan his perfect Father’s Day Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Includes: dad!Spencer, heavy mentions of Father’s Day, mentions and consumption of food Category: Fluff Word Count: 2.6k A/N: This isn’t my favorite, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for awhile all the same! Happy Sunday ♥️

 When Spencer was called away on cases your house seemed to lose a bit of its charm.  Mornings felt more tiring than ever before, the afternoon slumps dragged on for what seemed like years, and dinners, even with babbling five and seven-year-olds at your side, were a little too quiet.

This time around though, things were different.  You woke up to your five-year-old daughter sitting by your feet, her mind preoccupied by one of the search and find books Spencer had bought her the week prior.

The space next to you was empty, a piece of paper lying where your husband previously was, and you knew exactly what it was going to say before you even picked it up.

Good morning, love,

I got called on a case this morning, but it’s local and the team thinks we can wrap it up by tonight.  The kids both ate breakfast- and PSA that they were a little too excited I was going to be gone for the day.  I don’t know what they’re planning, but good luck.  I love you, and I’ll see you soon.

-Spencer

Unlike Spencer, you knew exactly what the kids were excited for, and it had everything to do with Father’s Day being tomorrow- you just hoped he would be home in time to celebrate like he predicted.

You folded the letter and placed it in your nightstand along with the others you’ve found gracing his pillow in years past when your bedroom door opened just the slightest amount.

In walked your seven-year-old son, comically exaggerating his tip toe motions as he stage whispered to his sister.  

“Is Mommy still sleeping?” He shifted his gaze in your direction, all effort to keep quiet out the window when he saw your eyes meet his.

“Mom! Guess what?” you opened your mouth to respond, but your daughter beat you to the punch.

“Daddy left for a work trip this morning!  So, we can make our plan today while he isn’t here!”

There was no denying that your kids loved their daddy, that was for sure.

“That’s so great!” you matched their enthusiasm with ease, getting ready for the day while they kept brainstorming in the background.  

Just last week, you had asked Spencer what he wanted to do for Father’s Day over dinner, and the children were as attentive as ever, eyes wide and lips pursed as they waited to hear the plans for the big day.

But, to their amusement, Spencer’s only plan was that they plan the entire day.  His reasoning was that they were the reason he was a dad so they should be the ones to decide what to do, but really you knew the truth was that he overheard their whispers about having the perfect plan for his day.

A plan you were finally going to be let in on, so it seemed.

The three of you made your way down to the kitchen where you settled down with your breakfast, eyebrows raised in enjoyment at your children.  They were sat across from you with a stash of markers and fresh index cards, and they had a few stacks of previously filled out index cards resting along the center of the table.

Ah- so that’s where they’re going with this.

It had become a bit of a family tradition to have a family scavenger hunt whenever you had a full weekend together.  You and Spencer were all too familiar with the concept of cherishing the time you have with your loved ones, and there were many a weekend where Spencer was called away, or you were busy with a million other plans ranging from extended family gatherings to birthday parties or weddings.

It was all the more reason to make the moments where it was just the four of you count even more- and thus, family scavenger hunts were born.

When they were toddlers, the scavenger hunts centered around finding certain shapes or colors, be it in the house or at the park.  Once every item was checked off you would have a family outing of their choice: the go to choice used to be another trip to the park (the one with the ‘fancier’ slides this time), but with the upgrade to slightly harder scavenger hunts centered on science and math they’ve upped their prize to ice cream.

What could you say? They were Spencer’s kids through and through.

“Wow!” you exclaimed, relishing in the beaming smiles on their faces, “do you guys want to make a scavenger hunt for daddy?”

Two enthusiastic faces nodded eagerly in your direction as your son grabbed one of the red markers.

“Yes! And we can have dino pancakes in the morning and get donuts after our scavenger hunt at the zoo- all of daddy’s favorite things!”

Dino pancakes were a Sunday morning staple in your home- you would use a cookie cutter to cut out a dinosaur shaped pancake, and the kids would eat those while you and Spencer would eat the ones with the dinosaur outline in them (and a few regular ones for good measure).  But donuts instead of ice cream?  That was new.

“That’s a great idea, I’m so proud of you guys for working together to plan this,” you praised, “but why donuts?”

Your daughter peered up from the index card she was drawing flowers on to answer your question, “because they’re daddy’s favorite and it’s daddy’s day!”

“And for our scavenger hunt we want all the animals to spell out ‘best dad ever’,” your son tacked on at the end, already beginning the task of writing numbers and circling them on the front of the card.

That was another newfound tradition for your family.  Now that the kids were learning to read, the two of you would try to have the first letter of each answer spell out a certain word or phrase.  Sometimes, it would be something like ‘I love you’ or ‘hello’, other times it would be the name of a special someone that would be joining you for ice cream afterwards (so far ‘Aunt Penny’ and ‘Uncle D’ were their favorite ones to come across).

You grinned once more, moving to grab your laptop and pulling the Smithsonian’s National Zoo site up to look at their list of animals.

“Alright, my loves- let’s do this”.

***

Three hours, eleven index cards, one snack break, and two very patient children later, your scavenger hunt was finished, index cards clipped and ready to go for the following morning.

Each index card had blank slots, the number of which corresponded to the name of the animal, on the front of the card with three fun facts written on the back.  In retrospect, Spencer wouldn’t even need the slots (or more than one fun fact, to be fair), but you knew he’d make a show of trying to think of each and every animal tomorrow afternoon.

Yet another reason you loved him.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur, all of your energy going into spending time with your kids. But once they went to bed, that energy was refocused into prepping for tomorrow to take your mind off the fact that it was nearing 10 PM and your husband wasn’t there.

You couldn’t bear to think of your kids disappointment if he didn’t make it home that night.

Outfits out and pancakes ready to be made, you made your way to the couch when the clock struck 11:30 PM, ready to settle in for a movie while you awaited his return but there was no need- as you walked into the room your husband made his way through the front door.  He looked as exhausted as ever, but the glimmer in his eyes proclaimed what you knew to be true.

He was happy to be home.

***

7 AM the next morning found you face to face with two wide eyed children gently shaking you awake, joy radiating from them as they saw that their father was fast asleep next to you.

With much persuasion in the form of puppy dog eyes, you made your way out of bed and into the kitchen to start the first task of the day: dino pancakes.  

Your little helpers set the table and brought Spencer’s gifts from the coat closet and into the dining room in the meantime, and as you placed the last pancake on a plate two arms wrapped around you and pulled you back tightly.

“Good morning, darling,” his raspy morning voice brought a soft smile to your face, and you leaned your head back to kiss his lips in greeting.

“Happy Father’s Day, Spence,” you laid another kiss against his lips, pulling back as the patter of little feet made their way into the kitchen.

“Daddy!  Happy Father’s Day!”

“Daddy!  Come see your gifts and eat pancakes!”

Two little voices fought for the spotlight, and Spencer kneeled to the ground to wrap the both of them in a hug.  You laughed at the scene, watching as they squeezed him just as hard before grabbing onto his arm and leading him to the dining room table.

“C’mon, Dad,” your son pulled his chair out and pushed his gifts closer to his seat, “let’s eat and open gifts!”

“Gifts?  You guys know I don’t want anything,” his brows furrowed as he looked at you, but you shrugged your eyes and took a bite of your pancakes in response.

“You always say that,” you rightly claimed, “and we always buy you gifts anyway- it’s practically tradition”.

You had a point, there.

Breakfast passed by in a blur of conversation, dad jokes, and present unwrapping.  And just like that, Spencer was the owner of new books to pass his time on the jet, a 5k puzzle you were sure he’d solve in an hour flat, and a homemade Father’s Day shirt with your children’s handprints decorating a globe, the words ’Best Dad in the WORLD!!!’ gracing the blank space.

His eyes sparkled when he saw the shirt, and you swore you’ve never been happier to call that man your husband and the father of your children.

Granted, that thought passed your mind no less than fifteen times a day, but still.

Within the hour, the four of you were out the door and on the way to the zoo, Spencer’s Father’s Day shirt proudly on display.

You drove with a grin, the radio turned off in favor of listening to your children explain today’s scavenger hunt to Spencer.  They were practically giving a word for word verbatim of what the two of you usually told them pre-scavenger hunt, all the more proof that your kids were sponges.

An equally exciting yet terrifying thought.

You were at the zoo within half an hour, your hand intertwined with your son’s while your daughter latched onto her father, everyone eager to start the scavenger hunt.

“Alright, guys,” Spencer began, “what’s our first clue?”

“Mommy can read it!” your daughter piped up and you nodded, grabbing the small pile from her hands before reading the first card of the day.

“Okay, so!  This animal has six letters in its name, and your three fun facts are: whiskers help this animal detect objects around them which helps them navigate the dark, they’re the largest rodents in North America, and when they’re in danger they slap their tail on the surface of the water” you finished your explanation and watched as Spencer’s eyes lit up in recognition, but just as you predicted he dragged the process out instead of guessing right away.

“Hm, it sounds like we should go to the rodent exhibit first!” He proclaimed, and your kids nodded, walking in a row like little ducklings to the exhibit.

The four of you took your time looking at each of the animals, until you came face to face with the animal in question.  “Aha! I think the animal we’re looking for is a beaver,” his answer was met with cheers from both of your children, and you wrote the answer in the blank slots before continuing with the hunt.

At the end of the hour you added an electric eel, sloth bear, tiger, dama gazelle, alpaca, and degu to the list.  Eight animals down, four to go.

Which was fantastic, considering that your kids were starting to get antsy for donuts.

“Okay, guys!  Are we ready for our next animal?” You were walking hand in hand with Spencer, your kids skipping directly in front of you and eagerly shouting in affirmation at your question.

The four of you stepped to the side, and you grabbed hold of the fourth to last index card before reciting the hints.

“Alright so!  This animal is two words, seven letters in the first word and seven in the second.  They have whiskers that look like mustaches, they’re native to the southwest Amazon Basin, and they have claws on each of their toes but the big one”.

“Hmm.. I don’t know guys, what do you think?” Spencer turned to your children, smiling wide when your son giggled in response.

“We can’t tell you, Dad! It’s a secret”.

Spencer laughed, sighing in defeat as your daughter gestured for him to come closer.  He did as asked, leaning down until she able to reach his ear, “I think we should go to the monkey exhibit!”

Her not so quiet whisper brought a smile to both yours and Spencer’s faces, and a grimace to your son’s but to the monkeys you went, where you came face to face with an Emperor Tamarin.

From there you crossed a Von der Decken’s Hornbill and an Eld’s Deer off your list until you had one animal left.

“Alright, my love- last one! This animal is two words, three letters in the first one and five in the second.  They mainly eat bamboo, their fur acts like a camouflage when they climb in trees, and they live in temperate forests in the Himalayas,” you finished your spiel with a quick eyebrow raise towards your children, both of which were not so discreetly pointing at the red panda exhibit just a few feet away.

“Is it a red panda?” Spencer asked, giving both your kids high fives when they jumped up and down in excitement.

“Yay Daddy, you got it! And guess what all of the first letters spell? Best dad ever!” your daughter jumped into his arms and Spencer chuckled, spinning her around and laying a gentle kiss on her head.

“Is that so?” he asked, “you three are too nice to me”.

Truthfully, you didn’t think it was possible to be too nice to Spencer.

“How about our last surprise for Daddy now, my loves?” your question was met with enthusiasm from your little family, and you were back in your car and on your way to Spencer’s favorite bakery in ten minutes flat.

As you pulled up to the bakery, two eager children and one extremely happy father made plans as to what donuts they were going to eat.

It was decided that Spencer would get a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles, your son would get a glazed donut, and your daughter would get jelly.

And you? You had every intention to get your favorite too, but above all you were just happy that another amazing Father’s Day was in the books for Spencer.

The seventh of many.

***

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