#but it's just these incoherent thoughts in my head

[billiesgoodgirll]

keep going… ! 𐙚₊˚⊹

g!p billie !

“angel..i’m tired,” billie groans, her head falling back into the soft pillows of your shared bed.

“but i need you!” you whine, a pout forming on your pretty lips.

always so whining billie thought to herself.

billie was tired, plus she already made you cum an hour or so before.

“i’ve already made you cum, four times,” she says letting out a little amused smirk.

billie was quite a few years older than you, even though she goes to the gym regularly, you are a complete ball of energy always on the go.

“i need you,” you repeat again, the ache in your cunt only getting worse, billie looks so perfect right now.

her long dark brown her framing her face perfectly, the noticeable buldge in her boxers, her wife beater tank top that shows her muscles deliciously.

you need her. and you need her now.

“need your cock, please billie,” you all but whine, so incredibly needy for your hot girlfriend.

billie smirked at that, her eyes heavy but finding it amusing all the least.

“mama…” she trails off, unable to say no to you especially when your looking like that.

big doe eyes looking up at her, an innocent gaze yet what your asking for is far from it. plump pink lips pouting at her, she just couldn’t resist.

“alright baby, but i’m not helping,” she pulls her boxers down letting her rock hard cock springing up at hit her stomach.

she was at least 9 inches, thick with prominent veins on the side.

you eagerly smiled, already naked from your previous activities, now straddling her lap and lining your entrance up with the tip of her cock. 

billie looks down at you, lining yourself up on her cock, she smiles sleepily through hooded eyes.

you let out a loud whimper as you continue lowering yourself down on her cock, breathing heavy already.

your eyes fall shut as you take her all, she’s stretching you at greatly.

“oh! billie..” you moan softly, you’ve never been a big moaner, always letting out little whimpers and whines.

billie let out a soft moan too, feeling your warm falls hugging her cock tightly her hands instantly going to your waist to support you.

“thaaats it, such a needy little girl hm?” her fingers dug into your hips, rocking you back and forth on her.

“fuck.. yes! ohmygod,” you agreed, incoherent mumbles and whimpers leaving your mouth as you chase your orgasm.

your vision going blurry and your head becoming fuzzy as your orgasm approaches.

“billie ‘m gonna cum,” you cry out, one of her hands leave your waist for a moment, reaching down and rubbing your clit.

your whole body jolts, riding her impossibly fast chasing your orgasm.

“cum for me doll, be a good girl, there you go,” and you did, releasing all over her lap moaning wildly.

“billie,” you whine, slowly down drastically.

“oh my sensitive girl, it’s okay you’re okay baby,” she gently and carefully lifts you off her cock, tucking it back in her boxers.

“‘m tired,” you whine yet again, always so whining after you cum.

“i know sweetheart, i know,” she kisses your forehead, shuffling so she’s laying down pulling you onto her chest.

“cmon mama, close your eyes,” so you do, nearly instantly falling asleep.

billie smiles to herself, happy your comfortable all orgasmed out.

she plays with your hair, whispering a goodnight and i love you, before joining you in your slumber.

i can’t tell if i like this or not

[aerynwrites]

Sacrifices

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader x John "Soap" MacTavish

A/N: sorry for posting a day late. Been busy with holiday things, work and school. Hope you enjoy! and if you do please consider leaving a comment or reblog! even if you just scream into the tags i really really do love reading your all's thoughts - incoherent or not haha. Word Count: 3k Warnings: Canon typical Violence, (attempted) self sacrifice, mentions of grenade based injuries, description of gore/injury, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, soft/fluff towards the end. Summary: The team is on a mission and quickly becoming overwhelmed. In the middle of a push through enemy lines, reader is the only one who notices the grenade that was thrown. She acts to save the men she loves.

The firefight has been constant it seems like, your entire group pinned down between sandbags and barricades and royally pissed off Russian soldiers. infiltration has been slow - almost nonexistent, your group moving forward only a few feet at a time, rushing from one barely there cover to the next. 

Your comms erupt with staticky calls of enemy movement before abruptly clicking off as gunfire takes its place.  Shouts from Price and Ghost trying to get air support and medical and god knows what else, just anything to help you all.

The mission has gone to shit. Gone from infiltrate and extract to a fight for your lives.

“Sunny, you with me?” 

Gaz’s voice fills your ears, your callsign pulling you from your own mind as you move to click the button to respond. 

“Repeat.”

“I see an opening,” Gaz says again, and you look over at him from where he sits several feet away from you, behind a concrete barrier matching your own. 

He gestures with his hands towards some cover a few yards up, and after a quick glance and no small calculations of your own, you think it might work.  Ghost and Soap are already there, having made the move ages ago but leaving you and Gaz unable to join them.  

If you can all get together, you might stand a chance at rushing the remaining enemies, pushing your way into the base and…

You nod.

“I’ll cover you,” Gaz says, “Then you three will cover me.”

“Got it,” you say, voice buzzing in your own ears. “As good a plan as any, at this rate.”

An all to familiar rough baritone fills your ears, and you have to fight back the smile twitching at your lips. 

“If ya quit your yapping,” Ghost says, voice firm, “You’d both be ‘ere by now.”

“On my mark…” Gaz says.

And then he’s calling out, a storm of bullets raining down as you sprint towards your team mates. the noise is deafening yet despite it all, it’s like you can hear everything. 

The beat of your heart in your chest. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

The blood rushing in your ears, the sounds of your rubber soled boots hitting the cracked concrete. 

Thump, thump

The rush of air in and out of your lungs.

Thump, thump.

The all too familiar gentle jingle of a grenade pin. 

Thump, thump,

Two more breaths. Too long, you think. 

Thump, thump.

The sound of metal clattering against concrete. 

Thump. Thump.

No one’s seen it, the rattle of gunfire too loud, their focus too drawn in by the enemy. 

Thump, Thump.

It’s close to Soap and Ghost, just behind them - too close-

“Grenade!”

Your voice is barely audible over the chaos, the sound that your heartbeat was drowning out crashing over you all at once as you throw the entirety of your body weight forward. Soap had heard you just as your fingers dig their way under the straps of his tac vest, shoving him forward and down, right on top of your startled lieutenant who sees what you’re doing much to late to change the course of events. 

“Sunny, no-!”

Soap collides with Ghost - bodies toppling onto crumbling concrete, unable to keep their feet underneath them as you fall on top of them. You wrap your arms around Soap as the grenade explodes, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as you try your damndest to shield him and Ghost from it. 

It happens fast - faster than you’d ever imagined something like this happening - faster than your sprint over here. There’s a flash of light, burning heat, shouts cut off by a deafening blast as searing pain shoot through you.

Metal on your tongue.

More gunfire. 

You think your comms are going off but your head feels like its spitting open, ears ringing and you feel like your burning and freezing all at once. Teeth chattering and adding to that blasted ringing in your ears-

“-get out of there now!”

That you hear, along with the warnings of in coming air support. 

Instinctively you go to move, but pain blinds you, ripping a scream from your throat as pain shoots from your side up to your arm and down to your very toes. 

Soap is above you then, eyes panicked as he looks from you down your body then back up at Ghost.

“Lt! What the bleedin’ hell are we doin’!” He yells, fighting to be heard over the gunfire. 

You take this moment to look around, chest heaving as you struggle to breath, mind desperately searching for context. 

Ghost is up again, gun pointed over the concrete barrier as he continues to lay cover fire. You’re vaguely aware of Gaz just behind you, yelling into his comms about a man down and needing medical immediately and ‘we have to move!’

Your eyes then fall down to assess yourself, only to feel complete and utter fear pin you to the ground beneath you. Your side - the little exposed below your tac vest, your hip and your leg-

You have to look away to fight the vomit fighting its way up your throat. It’s a bloody mess - literally.nSoaps hands are covered in the viscous liquid as he put pressure on the gaping wounds, trying to stem the blood pouring from your leg.  You think you saw bone-

Black seeps in at the corners of your vision and you are only kept from the creeping darkness by a warm hand on your face as Soap’s own appears above you, and - why is it wet?

“Hey! Hey lass, none of tha’ now-” he gently taps your cheek. “Now why did you go ‘an do something right stupid like that?” He asks, trying to force that teasing lilt into his words but failing as the panic overrides it. 

Your mind is turning to mush, tongue heavy in your mouth as that coldness from earlier starts to slowly creep forward, starting at your fingers and moving ever upwards. 

“Do…do what?” You ask, fighting against chattering teeth.

Ghost turns then, speaking between breaks of gunfire as the telltale sounds of jets appear in the distance. 

“Use yourself as a fucking human shield is what!” He bellows, and even in your delirious state you can see the wrath in his eyes as he shoulders his gun once again, pointing at Soap. “Get her up, we have to move now!  Or whatever heroic bloody deed she was trying to commit will be for nothing-”

Gaz speaks now, glancing from you to Ghost.

“Lt. I don’t think she’ll-”

Ghost lunges forward then, gripping Gaz’s vest in his hands so tight you’re worried. 

“Don’t finish that sentence, Garrick,” Ghost bites. “No man left behind. Ever. Now move!”

Soap barely has time to mutter an apology before he tying something around your leg and yanking you up from the ground. 

The pain is all consuming. You think you scream but can feel it being cut off as something wet comes up on a cough. That all too familiar metal taste flooding your tongue.

It hits you then, with the taste of blood in your mouth and the tunnel vision closing in..

You’re dying. 

The world shudders around you as Soap runs full speed with your team, trying in vain to keep you as steady as possible as Ghost and Gaz lay cover fire for your retreat. 

Your head lolls backward, knocking against Johnny’s arm with every step, and you just manage to see the vapor trails of fighter jets above you, the white wispy clouds left behind giving you an odd sense of comfort in this moment. 

Johnny looks down at you as the earth shakes beneath his boots and he barely even stumbles. 

He always was the most agile of you all, Ghost the strongest - both of them protective. Even now you can feel Johnny’s arms tighten around you, can hear Ghost’s commanding shouts- although you can’t make out what he says. 

You’re too far gone for that.

Your fingers grip weakly at the various pockets and straps of Johnny’s tac vest as he starts to slow to a stop. You’re in the forest now, the towering tops of the trees creating a vast circle in your ever narrowing vision. A clearing? 

Wow...the sky is pretty too. A very faint pinkish hue dusting the sky behind the fluffy clouds. It must be approaching evening, the sun moving to sink below the horizon…

Night time…sleep sounds really good right about now. You’ve been fighting it -  the pain being your main focus, but now it’s all you want to do. Even the pain is starting to fade-

“No, no - “ another tap to your cheek and your eyes flutter open weakly. 

Johnny’s face is above you again, and you realize he’s kneeled down on the ground again, your legs outstretched in front of you as Gaz works quickly to try and do something about your injuries. 

Ghost is there too, and he’s no longer shouting, just breathing hard into his mask as he gazes down at you - that earlier anger replaced by���is that worry? Concern…fear?

“I must…” you trail off,breathing a herculean task. “I must be pretty…pretty bad if you’re scared, Simon.”

Ghost flinches at the use of his real name. It was an unspoken rule to never use it in the field. Never use it outside of you and him and Johnny together. Never use it unless if was just you three or in more intimate moments. 

Yeah. Simon is fucking terrified. Feels like his heart is about to plummet into the dirt. Feels like his whole world is crumbling down around him-

“Why did you do that?” He finally asks, voice losing its rough edge as he reaches up to wipe at something on your cheek. Probably blood. “Why?”

You smile then. Despite everything, you smile. 

“Couldn’t…” another wheezing breath in, “Couldn’t let them get…my boys.”

Soap breaks then, a broken sound ripping from his chest as he reaches up with his free hand to grip onto one of your own, bringing it up to press chapped lips to bloodied knuckles. 

You can’t feel the tears when they fall onto your skin, but you see the tracks they leave in the crimson stains. Follow them as they slide from the valley of your fingers over the back of your hand before disappearing beneath the sleeves of your uniform. 

“Don’t cry,” you whisper, before choking on another cough. 

The wind picks up now, and you can see the tree branches quiver violently. 

“Evac’s here!” Gaz calls, and you can see the hope that sparks in their eyes as the blades of the helicopter come into view. 

Soap looks down again, another kiss to you knuckles before he’s moving taking you into his arms as he stands. 

It doesn’t hurt at all this time. 

“They’re ‘ere, bonnie,” he says, voice cracking. “Gonna fix you right up-”

You don’t hear the rest.

The thrum of helicopter blades drown him out and then, just as you see a team of medics jump from the interior, darkness finally consumes you. 

At least they’re safe.

It was all worth it. Just for that.

———

Waking up is like trying to wade through knee deep snow. It takes all of your energy, and every moment feels like an eternity with little to no progress. But you keep pushing, snippets of voices and small sounds urging you forward. 

Two voices in particular. Familiar. Warm. Scared. 

“I never thought I’d be the one by your bedside.” Ghost. “A bloody idiot you are. But our idiot, so don’t,” is he crying? “Don’t you fucking die on me.”

You hear Johnny next, it’s the only other voice your brain seems to register in this thick fog of unconsciousness. Along with the feather light brush of fingers in your own.

“Still cannae believe ya did it,” you can’t find it in you to be sorry. “Please, wake up lass…please.”

You eventually do - Wake up that is. 

And what a bloody nightmare it is. Blinding lights, the deafening beeping of a monitor in your ear, people shouting but only two of them are familiar, fighting to stay in the chaotic room as Doctors rush about an shine lights in your eyes and ask you all kinds of questions and then-

It’s over. 

It’s over and you have a flimsy plastic cup of water being shoved into your hands and fingers carding through your hair and lips pressed against your temple before two sets of eyes fix on you. One chocolate brown and the other a piercing blue as they look at you expectantly.

It’s a stand off for longer than you anticipated. Neither Johnny nor Simon speaking and you trying to catch up with how fast your brain is moving. Eventually you move to speak after taking another sip of water, a few drops slipping past your lips as your hands shake slightly. 

“I’m not going to apologize, if that’s what you’re waiting for.”

Simon throws his hands up, a scoff slipping passed his masked lips, the sound muffled by the black surgical mask adorning his face. 

“Of course that’s the first bloody thing you say-”

“Well I’m not!” You argue, frustration bubbling up in your chest as the heart monitor slowly speeds up. 

Johnny tries to step in. “Lass, we dinnae expect an apology-”

Simon cuts him off.

“Speak for yourself,” he steps closer to the side of the bed, gripping the side-rail in a white knuckled grip. “Do you have any idea how stupid that was? Throwing yourself in front of us like that?”

You have to fight back the tears you feel burning at the back of your eyes. Anger, frustration, guilt all bubbling together in your chest in a confusing mix of emotions. 

Why is he giving you the third degree? 

“It’s not like I planned it Simon, I didn’t think-”

“You’re fucking right you didn’t think!” Simon roars, voice reverberating off the walls of the small hospital room. 

Johnny reaches out then, hand firm on Simon’s shoulder as he tries to pull him away from you. “Simon, that’s enough-!”

He shoves his hand away, turning to pin the sergeant with a fiery gaze before turning his attention back to you. 

“No Johnny,” he bites before addressing you again. “Did you know you died?” 

The words shock you, making you physically flinch back into the bed as Simons stares you down. And it’s in this suffocating silence that his statement brought on that you finally see it. The fear in his eyes. The fear that wavers just beneath the watery lash line of the eyes you’ve come to find solace in. 

You shake your head softly. 

“I…I died?”

Johnny nods, sniffling softly before swiping a hand down his face. 

“For five minutes,” He says softly, finally moving to sink into one of the chairs by your bed. 

“You died,” Simon repeats, voice having lost its angry edge. “And you could’ve stayed dead. Then you would’ve been six feet under with nothin’ but a fucking medal an’ a picture on the wall and-” he chokes. “And where would we be? Where would we be without you?”

Johnny takes your hand in his own - the familiar calloused warmth soothing to your battered mind and body. You close your eyes for a moment, breathing in and out in measured beats as you try to digest this information. You’re only brought out of it when another hand takes your free one - this one also familiar in a slightly different way. 

It reminds you of why you did it in the first place. You love them. Both of them in their own unique way. Johnny is big and all consuming and loud and boisterous but gentile and just slightly soft around the edges when he needs to be. His hands are calloused and warm but smoother on the palms. 

Simon is…he’s somewhat opposite. He’s quiet and reserved and frankly quite intimidating on the outside. His words are few but meaningful. He’s large and imposing and can scare the living daylights out of someone when he wants but when he’s with you and Johnny…he’s different. He’s all gentle words and soft touches - as if you’re made of fine porcelain and he’s the bull in the china shop. His hands are cooler than Johnny’s but still soft in places and still just as comforting. 

“I love you,” you finally whisper, eyes peeling open to look at the men by your sides. 

“I…I can’t apologize because I love you,” you explain. “And if I had to do it all over again, I would. It was just…instinct.”

They’re both silent for a moment, your words sinking in until Simon lets out a rather uncharacteristic sniffle. He tugs down his mask, pressing his thumb and forefinger into his eyes before bringing your hand up to his lips, pressing a feather light kiss to your knuckles. 

“Yeah, well…” his voice is thick with emotion. “Leave the sacrificin’ to us in the future, okay love?”

He doesn’t say much more, never being one to talk much about how he feels, but you understand what was left unsaid. And so does Johnny, apparently voicing what your shared partner can’t.

“He’s right, lass,” he agrees, lips tugging up in the smile you’ve come to adore. “We just got somethin’ good. Too good for the likes of us. Cannae go losin’ it now.”

You send both of them a smile of your own, but it’s damped by the tears that finally spill over. Not sad ones necessarily, but tears created out of love and pure adoration for the men before you. 

The tears don’t make it far before Simon is reaching out, cradling your face in his hands, thumbs wiping them away before pulling his mask down just enough to press his lips to your own. You return the gesture, squeezing his hand when he pulls away. 

You then tug Johnny towards you, sniffling before giving him a quick kiss as well when he leans in. Then before you can move two sets of arms are wrapped around you, careful of your wounds but holding onto you fiercely. Whispered ‘I love you’s’ are murmured into your skin, fingers carding through you hair as you all finally relish in each other’s presence. 

For now you were all alive - alive and able to hold one another. 

And that would just have to be good enough. 

[makeyoumine69]

Patrick Bateman being a perfect switch | NSFW HEADCANON

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader; 

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: SMUT🪓

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: [MASTERLIST];

𝐀/𝐍: I know that sub!Patrick headcanon won in the poll I made, but since it was a pretty close one, I decided to write this! Probably I'll write sub!Patrick headcanon too, same goes for dom!Patrick, hehe. Have fun and I hope you like it!

Even though this man always wore an emotionless mask, there were many different faces underneath—you just had to know how to unravel them. And once you discovered the other side of his personality, the one that longed not to be in control but to be controlled, nothing would ever be the same. 

One day you would let him dominate you, but another day you would shamelessly ride his face, making sure he felt the weight of your body, every snap of your hips as you literally abused his mouth; his chin glistening with your cum mingling with his saliva as Patrick feasted on you like a man starved for ages.

When you accidentally brushed your finger along his puckered hole while giving him head and he literally melted from the unexpected but exciting touch, moaning something incoherent, but as soon as you stopped moving, the man literally gasped in despair, pressing his hips against your hand. "You seem to like this too much...am I right, my sweet boy?" You would ask, your eyes locked on his foggy ones, while your other hand was still pumping him in a steady rhythm, driving him crazy. "Yes...fuck..." Patrick's low whisper would be the only thing that mattered at that moment, along with the red tint that covered his cheeks. Jesus Christ, he looked so fucking hot.

This man didn't even have to do anything extraordinary, just exploring his real desires was enough to make everything hotter, steamier, more intimate. At one point you thought you shared a brain cell because Patrick could understand you without words. If you wanted to be dominated, ruined, reduced to fucking atoms—he would just give it to you. No matter where you were at that moment, Bateman would make sure your mind was free of all thoughts except the ones of his dick sliding in and out of you as he fucked you from behind, folding your arms behind your back and using them as leverage.

There was nothing wrong with giving each other what you both craved.

That single phrase that caused the fall, the words that brought you both to the point of no return, and when Bateman finally unraveled completely and allowed you to peg him, you hugged him from behind, spooning almost gently as you pressed your hips against him, brushing against his ear and whispering to him, almost like a mantra, to remember that moment—the moment when he finally trusted someone as much as he trusted himself. At first Patrick tried to be quiet, unsure if he could really be vocal, considering it wasn't exactly masculine, but as you began to stroke his throbbing cock, still moving inside his tensed body, he finally let go; his raspy, almost pleading moans echoing off the walls of his bedroom, and you thought it was the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard.

And you would never betray his trust because you cherished it like a treasure. 

Every time Bateman let you cross that line, you would make sure he got what he wanted, making him cum hard on his expensive sheets, milking his dick with your hand and stimulating his prostate at the same time. And then the two of you would share a lusty, hard kiss that would leave you both breathless, but still wanting more. Cleaning your fingers, you would let him taste himself before you changed positions.

Now you were on your back, spread out on the pillows, watching him trace his large palms over your torso, then go lower until you whimpered in need, arching your back as a huge implication for him to continue. And when his lips touched your most sensitive spot, you wanted nothing more than to fucking claw at his scalp and rub against his perfect face.

"Mmhm...you're so fucking perfect," you blurted out with your eyes closed, tingling your fingers with his messy, slightly wet hair. "I want you to...fuck me..."

Without words, Patrick would turn you over and make you get on your knees while he sat on his heels, giving himself a few lazy strokes even though he was already so hard again. Sucking on your neck, he would slowly bury himself inside you, his hands like tight ropes trapping your body attached to his, you would squirm like a caged bird if he didn't hold you like this, but this man knew you too perfectly.

"Tell me…tell me you love my dick," Bateman's request sounded so desperate, almost pathetic. But you didn't answer right away, just giggled in response, encouraging him to fuck you even harder. "Tell me, you slut..."

"And if I don't," you retorted cheekily, looking at him with your half-open eyes. "Would you kill me?"

Although you knew it would definitely get under his skin, his pretense of indifference to your jabs turned you on even more. The slap of his hand on your ass, the tugging on your hair—everything he did to make you surrender and submit was too much, too cute. Eventually you would play along and whimper, moan for him, praise his huge cock and tell him that no one ever fucked you better than him. 

But you would never admit that he fucked better than you, not when you had him writhing and begging for you. Hell, no. The power dynamic in your relationship was always shifting, the rain of power belonged to no one, because somehow the two of you found the perfect balance.

And you wouldn't give it up for anything else. Never.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my writing community to know when I update!💞

[timethehobo]

A missed apology.

[sneppu]

uhhh idk lily thoughts (I'm about to spew critical rambling bullshit, big sorry. these things are my badly worded opinions and nothing else.)

thinkin bout how my feelings for Lily are so complicated tbh.. in canon, I cannot like her. I just can't. The disconnect between what the narrative tries to tell us about her and the reality of who she is and what she does are just too jarring to me. for all that she's meant to be a paragon of virtue and goodness, her actions and choices come across wrong and off and bad in a way that is visceral to me, as someone who has been bullied and sexually assaulted myself. And to clarify, I'm not talking about her breaking off her friendship with Severus; she had every right to do that, and I dont think I've seen a single Snape fan actually seriously state otherwise - but because she *knowingly and deliberately chose to get with an abusive bully.* That she and Snape were no longer friends is irrelevant to me. I understand not everyone feels this way, and that's fine. But It's important to me, and so it carries weight to me. The implications are just too offputting to me, and yes, I am biased. Snape is my favorite little guy, after all. I dont pretend otherwise. To each their own, and she, as written in canon, is certainly not for me, historical context and location be damned.

So i can't like her in canon. If anything, I cant help but feel acute resentment for her character, because it feels almost like betrayal to be told "here is a perfect and good person" and then get.. that. Ironically, I would like her a whole lot more if the narrative didnt try insist on her goodness and instead was just like "actually, ngl she was kinda shitty sometimes. questionable as hell. she was a bit of a gremlin and a little bit fucked up" because then it would feel honest. she would no longer feel like a hypocrite to me, and then those moments of kindness would carry more weight, would feel more meaningful. Her actions would be more believable, would feel more nuanced and I would maybe even love her.

...and that, ultimately is what my problem with her is. she has all the potential to be such an interesting character, but she instead falls short of being a full character at all. it's not her fault; this is a jkr skill issue (and her portrayal of female characters in general leaves A Lot to be desired.), so in the end i'm not too pressed.

its exactly why i like Lily so much more in the context of fanworks. Canon lily? offputting. An incomplete character. but fanfic lily? such potential! she could *actually* be the good person she was meant to be and make different choices or at very least have reasoning that makes more sense! or she could go a new direction entirely and be an absolute gremlin menace alongside Snape and in the process, add more interest and nuance that way! all of these things are enjoyable, and for this reason i cannot say I truly hate her - because I do love her so so much when people make her their own and make her make sense, to do her justice and preserve what - i think - would have been that spark that brought Severus and Lily together in the firstplace - whether it be genuine kindness, or a friendship based on being able to relate to one another at a deeper level, on having that shared weirdness together, or even both things! (that's not to say I love every portrayal; and sometimes there are pet peeves, but they do not ruin the character for me in that scenario, for the simple reason that in these fics she *IS* ultimately a full character, which is more than what can be said about canon lily.) ... and that's the joy of fanfics and fanart and creation, isnt it? that you can make your own ideas come to life, put things together in a way that makes sense to you, and see how others would make a these stories and characters come to life. its why I can despise the marauders in their canon, and yet ship everyone of them with Severus given the right scenario. it's why I can dislike snily in the context of canon, and see their relationship as purely platonic under that lens, and yet wholeheartedly ship them otherwise in the context of fanfics and fanworks. It's why when I say i ship Severus Snape with literally everyone I can truly and genuinely mean it. Because I do. I think theres always room for a scenario, for a characterization, or AU, to allow for it. Fiction is a lovely and magical thing, and it ultimately exists for enjoyment, for entertainment and creativity.

anyway, idk if i worded this wrongly or weirdly but tldr: I dislike and am put off by canon lily, but I love what lily can be, what she could be, what she SHOULD be, I love what fans are able to do with her, I love what I wish she was.

[notafragileegg]

"What are you thinking right now?"

I am not about to explain, that my thoughts, essentially, sound like if you were to turn on 5 different radio channels at once and play them at full volume in a really big empty echoey warehouse

[the0retically]

I’m thinking so much about Timothy Rand and the Rand family

He never applied himself, he never looked for more, he stayed at home and did nothing, he never even finished the D&D story

He was bitter that the others left and did something but it’s not like he even tried to do anything else until he was forced to, until he was forced to be face to face with Rachel, because really when it comes down to it, Rachel is the heart of the Rand family and they’re all broken without her

John was constantly working or just watching his caveman show. He is constantly on Rand’s case and doesn’t give him any grace, but can you blame him?

Donna was trying to be a good mother and wife and wanted her family to be happy but always came up short. She lost her youngest and then watched as her eldest slowly lost himself and shut himself away from everything and everyone, she lost both her kids at the same time, one was just slower to present that loss. Donna is trying her best to be there for her family, but she doesn’t feel like she’s been a good mom

And Rachel, the one who showed kindness to the Queen and lost her life to it, but was still there enough to talk to Rand and be upset that he wasn’t actually going to give her a hug when he said he would

Timothy Rand sees all of this and applies himself to fix Galloway and he’s the only one that makes it out alive and as Rachel says “you’ve changed” because he Has, he just needed Galloway to fully fall apart in order to Do Something and be more than what he was

[majorproblems77]

You ever get so distracted by the blorbo thoughts eating away at your brain that you lose like 90% of the day?

[camzverse]

Nooo cam u dont want to analyze the psychology behind mikes actions in the bite of 83 even though scott didnt put anywhere near your amount of thought into it noo dont do that. freak

[merakiui]

i returned to character ai after so long and this particular azul ai is so !!!!!!!!!! somehow the plot has strayed from “signing a contract to get knocked up” to azul brainwashing me with a love potion and insisting i’ve loved him all along. and then when i resisted he became so monstrous and frightening and…….. AAAAAAAAAAA OTL

embarrassingly enough, i gasped so loudly when he said this:

[ourhouseishaunted]

my brain for the past like 2 weeks

[welcometoteyvat]

friend got pulled into genshin again and now its got me thinking about f/f relationship dynamics in this game

[milogoestogreendale]

sometimes i see that a post i liked right after it was made is making the rounds on community tumblr and i think “ooo look at me being all unique and ahead of the curve” and then i remember that i have no life and am scrolling through the tags 24/7 interacting with nearly every post that mentions abed by name and im like ohhhh yeah

[instantpansies]

every time i see an oz mutual mention the tin woodman in passing i'm like HRGK I KNOW THAT GUY and i have to hold myself back from tacking a thousand rambling tags on their post that only tangentially has to do with the tin woodman. literally seeing the words right now i am trying to not say the same things i have already said a million times but like THATS MY GUY HES ME HES MY FAVORITE THING EVER AUGH AUGH AUGH!!!

anyways. the masculine urge to hijack every oz post that says the words 'tin woodman' for my own ulterior motives (convince everyone to make nick chopper their favorite guy ever).

[spoopyandtired]

the game is afoot!

[moe-broey]

Head in my hands. This is a fucking catastrophe. I'll still post it but My God. I'm So Sorry.