#this is extreme favoritism and know what?

[littlepaperboatyo]

Nicolas Cage is also a big fan of German Expressionist acting such as the original Jeckel and Hyde movie. It's not what's considered the modern fashion, but he is extremely good at it. The intent with German Expressionist acting is to feel things with sincerity. "The actor is not afraid of the fact that he is acting" is a quote i recall from my research.

It becomes an issue of culture clash when the rest of the movie isn't on board with that style. He's a big name so he's generally playing the main character, which means it's a big deal when he and the movie don't fit. One of my favorite bad Nic Cage films is Bangkok Dangerous, which is truly such a subpar movie. What's great is how clearly it shows off the issue. Nic Cage can play a traditional action movie star, but in order to do so he devotes himself to the feeling of being that iconic symbol of masculinity, which feels so shitty actually. The rest of the movie is actors going through the motions of what happens in an action movie while this man is this aching wound of toxicity. Also it's the worst wig he's ever worn 10/10

Nic Cage is terrible with money meaning he works with a lot of directors and most of them don't know what they're doing well enough to use his whole deal well. He's also a really bad fit with action movies specifically because they are so lacking in sincerity, his speciality, but he's been in enough of them that idiot directors walk right up to him and stick their foot in a bear trap.

Hey, here is some new frustrating discourse.

I'm going to clear this up super duper quick.

And then we can move on and discuss more important things.

Okay?

Here goes...

Nicolas Cage is an incredible actor who is very bad with money so he has to act in terrible movies because otherwise they will repossess his dinosaur skull collection.

But even when he is in terrible movies with terrible writing he refuses to phone in his performances. And sometimes when you are acting your ass off while saying some of the dumbest dialogue ever conceived it can give the appearance the acting is the issue rather than the writing and story.

Hayden Christensen knows that feeling all too well.

So next time you see Nic Cage in a B movie acting a fool, just know he probably bought some new shrunken heads and forgot to pay the mortgage on his volcano island.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Dad!James Potter x wife!fem!reader

Summary: Telling James you're pregnant again is scary.

Genre: pure fluff

Warnings: reader is pregnant, vomiting

~ set after Santa Baby and before Snow On The Beach ~

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

Date nights were extremely important to James. Since Henry's birth, he was adamant that his alone time with you was something he didn't want to neglect, even if there was a child in the picture.

Now that Henry was nine, convincing Sirius and Remus to babysit wasn't hard. Especially since they would bring their four year old, Cassiopeia, with them and Henry would graciously play her while you and James went out. 

Tonight's date isn't any different than the others, except that you're a bundle of jumping nerves. It certainly doesn't help that James looks positively stunning with his dark hair slicked back, a few loose curls arrayed across his forehead, and his dark suit, which conveniently matches the velvet navy dress you're wearing.

The restaurant is fancy. It's James's favorite and you secretly think one of the reasons is he likes showing you how much he can spoil you, as if he hadn't been doing just that for the past thirteen years. He'd ordered this fancy appetizer, along with some wine you haven't touched and was currently talking about work. Taking over his father's company was putting some stress on him, which you understood. 

"You know, I can't wait till Harry starts school, not that I won't miss the little bugger," James chuckles behind his wine glass, his mind wandering, "but because we'll have more time. Just us."

His words cause your stomach to sink. How are you supposed to tell him now, you think. James, always observant to your emotions, frowns when he sees your expression. 

"You okay, you look like you're going to be sick—" 

As he speaks, the nausea hits you hard and you stand, holding a hand over your mouth as you rush to the nearest bathroom without any warning. You clumsily throw yourself on the ground, vomiting into the toilet and you choke on an embarrassed sob. 

James is hot on your heels the moment you leave dinner so abruptly, running into the women's bathroom without a care in the world. The older women, who'd been mildly appalled by your vomiting, send him some dirty looks but he doesn't pay them any mind as he opens the stall. He kneels next to you, gently gathering your hair in his hand as he uses the other one to rub soothing circles on your back.

"Hey, my love, what happened?" He asks between soothing words, his hand strokes your hair as you slump against him, tears glistening in your waterline. 

Your husband isn't stupid and he knows you. He looks into your eyes and he understands instantly. His breath hitches as he remembers just how bad your 'morning' sickness was when you were pregnant with Henry, lasting and becoming even worse in the evenings. His gaze softens instantly and clicks his tongue. "Why didn't you tell me?" he scolds half-heartedly, still rubbing soothing circles on your back. 

You sniffle, wiping your mouth with an enormous amount of toilet-paper as you whimper, "I felt like I was going to disappoint you, you seemed so happy for time alone and—"

"And now we are going to have another baby," James finishes for you, kissing your temple as he helps you up and brings you to the sink. He pushes hair behind your face as he gently takes some paper-towel, wets it, and gently runs it under your chin and around your mouth. You look miserable and his heart breaks. 

He doesn't say anything for a moment as he washes your hands, washing his in the process as well. Your mind races. You don't know what to think, what to feel about this new life growing inside you.

He places his large palm on your stomach. You're not showing, yet. You flinch, sniffing. "Why so sad, love?" he whispers as he tries to comfort you.

"You're upset," you whisper, looking at your appearance in the mirror. You look like a mess.

James grins. "Says who?" He laughs and presses a kiss to your forehead again. 

You look on the verge of tears again and your husband's smile falters. He leans down, catching your gaze so you're looking at him properly. "Hey, love, please don't cry okay? I'm not upset, I promise. I'm happy. So so happy, really," James reassures you, a familiar glint of sincerity in his eyes. "We are having another baby. This is the best news, okay?" 

Tension eases in your shoulders and you finally relax. The warm feeling of happiness seeps back into you. You sniff again, looking into his eyes. "Promise?"

He straightens himself and holds out his pinky for you to take. "I pinky promise." You hook your pinky with his and he leans down, kissing his closed fist. You hesitate, finally cracking a small smile as you do the same. 

"Excuse me? This is the ladies room," a snark voice calls from behind you both and you look towards the voice. A woman is standing tensely in the doorway, gripping the hand of her young daughter, and she's glaring daggers at James.

The little girl looks confused and she's clearly feeling the fear her mother is and you can tell from James's expression he feels bad. 

"Sorry." He waves his hands in the air, his cheeks dusted pink, as he points to you, "My wife was sick—I was just leaving—" James looks your way and mouths, "You coming?"

You nod, taking his hand, as he leads you out the door. You mumble a small apology to the woman and James sends a small reading smile to the girl, hoping not to scare her.

Once your back at your table, James gulps down his wine and looks at you sheepishly. "Oops," he mutters. You smile and cover your giggles. James's smile widens when you laugh and he reaches over, resting his hand over yours. 

"Seriously, baby," he says, seriously now, "I'm really happy. And Henry will be happy too."

You rub your temples, taming some of the wisps of hair that fall in front of your eyes. "Yeah? You think so?"

James laughs, "No. He's gonna be furious," he pauses when he sees that his joke isn't landing and he squeezes your hand. "I'm joking. He'll be the best big brother. He's already so good with Cassi, he's practically an older brother already."

You smile. "He is, isn't he?"

James hums, that giddy smile of his returning. "Pregnant. Again," he muses, "I can't believe how lucky I am," he says and looks at you like you're the brightest star in the universe. You feel your cheeks warm. "I love you."

"I love you more," you say back, bringing his knuckles to your lips. 

James grins and when he catches glimpse of your untouched wine glass, a smirk curls his lips and shake his head, clicking his tongue. "Can't drink this, baby," he teases you and slides it over to his side. You roll your eyes. 

"I wasn't," you argue playfully.

"Hmm?"

You swat his hand, knowing he's teasing you on purpose to lighten the mood. Still, your nerves have calmed and you aren't feeling as nauseous anymore. In fact, you can finally truly feel excited now. Another baby. You smile.

Once the food arrives and the topic of conversation had changed to James excitedly coming up with new baby names, you feel at ease again and warmth spreads in your stomach.

You move your foot under the table, gently touching James's ankle—just to let him know you love him. James doesn't mention it but his smile widens as he speaks, a look of adoration and love sparkling in his eyes. 

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hello!! I hope you're doing well! Do you have any recs for books about twisted/problematic relationships but with woc? Obviously there's our queen octavia butler but unfortunately for me i've finished reading all her books so i'm desperately craving for books that scratch this itch. Thank you for this blog btw i really love reading all your thoughts & reviews ♥️

goddd okay this list is not going to be nearly as long as I wish it was but it is extreeeeemely varied, so at least we have that going for us lmao. and hopefully you find something interesting in here:

right out of the gate if you're chasing that Octavia high, Rivers Solomon's novel Sorrowland feels very very in that vein. it starts with a teenage girl escaping from a Black separatist fundie cult while heavily pregnant with the cult leader's twins, deciding to give birth to the babies in the woods and raise them there. and boy, does it get crazier from there! there are some eventual transformative body horror sci-fi elements that I shan't spoil, but it's a time. the relationships are pretty secondary and genuinely not the most fucked up thing here, but our main girlie Vern is very much into girls and trying to figure that out on top of all the other horrors.

The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms is the first book in a fantasy trilogy by specfic queen NK Jemisin, and the first book in particular is really like. problematic relationship city. the protagonist is called to be an heir to a dying emperor and IMMEDIATELY gets embroiled in a love triangle with two of the gods that her family enslaves for power??? crazy shit.

I just kicked off this year reading a book called Darknesses by Lachelle Seville, which ALSO features a young Black woman fresh out of a cult (this one loves self harm and anorexia). and then she meets another Black girl who casually drops that she's Dracula, and oh boy do things get weirder from there. this book is like kind of Not Good but it is very entertaining; at a certain point you just have to turn off your brain and go with the vibes. it's sweeter than a lot of examples but listen, obsession and bloodlust are obsession and bloodust no matter how much your gf Dracula respects consent. there's a lot of murder!

this one doesn't have any supernatural bullshit afoot and is instead just regular degular #problematic, but Raven Leilani's Luster was one of my favorite books last year and follows an absolute shitshow of a young Black woman's extremely loaded and weird relationship with her older white boyfriend and his insane wife, as well as their adopted Black daughter.

anther no magic entry: I really love Oyinkan Braithwaite's My Sister, The Serial Killer, which is about exactly what you think it's about! the narrator is a put-upon Nigerian woman whose beautiful, beloved sister has murdered her last several boyfriends and has come crying to her dutiful sister to help her clean it up each time; the plot kicks in when the murdery sister sets her sights on the narrator's boss, a doctor to whom the narrator is also attracted. I know it's a sibling relationship instead of a romantic one but you didn't specify so! I am counting it!

this one is like very very very niceys compared to everything else I'm going to put on this list but it's also pretty hot so I have to mention it: Little Rabbit by Alyssa Songsiridej is about a young, bisexual Asian-American woman struggling to get a writing career off the ground falling in love with a Notably Older and wealthier white man and figuring out how to navigate the subsequent problems both within their own interpersonal dynamic and in how their relationship is received by others.

honorary mentions: books about fucked up white women that are written by women of color who Know!!

Under the Pendulum Sun by Jeannette Ng is a Victorian alternate history in which the English discovered the fairy realm and promptly did what the English did, ie, sending missionaries to teach the fairies about Jesus. the novel follows a woman traveling to the fairy kingdom to look for her missing missionary brother and promptly going insane as fairies gaslight gatekeep girlboss from all sides, complete with a side of everyone's favorite gothic horror trope: repressed sibling incest!

My Nemesis by Charmaine Craig is another very lowkey and grounded example, comparatively, but I thought it was neat and worth a mention! it's told from the POV of truly insufferable white woman writer whose emotional affair with a philosopher gets thrown for a fucking loop by the philosopher's wife, an enigmatic Chinese woman whose motivation the MC cannot guess literally at all. it's not the most exciting read in the world but the reveals hit hard and the reveals at the end made me YELL.

also for short story collections by WOC that can bring the #yikes factor in big ways I heartily endorse Roxane Gay's Difficult Women and Carmen Maria Machado's Her Body and Other Parties.

I wish I had more to throw you here; please if anyone has something to add to this list I am LISTENING

[mercy-burning]

Here We’re In Love (Apricity)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!Reader Summary: Spencer teaches you why he's become so fond of your mornings together. Category: Fluff (who am I) Content: Domestic fluff, a light dusting of erotic tension but nothing explicit, the first "I love you", happy tears Word Count: 1.2k

MASTERLIST

(AKA Mercy learned a new word and got The Feels, so she had to plug it into a fic. Obviously.)

----------------------------

There was once a time in Spencer's life when being in bed didn't generate a strong feeling of any kind. It was simply a task needed to end the day and transition into another, a means to an end, and least of all a luxury; Even when he was a child, responsibility outranked reveling in the comfort of a warm bed.

These days, though, it seems like all he wants to do is be in bed. Not because he feels depressed or exhausted in any extreme, but it's hard for him not to ache for an entire day spent solely enveloped in the warm embrace of linen, made even warmer by your presence. Since you've been with him, it brings something so normal and safe amongst the chaos of his daily life—not just in bed of course, but especially in bed. Especially in the mornings. It has quickly become his favorite part of the day, and he finds himself never wanting it to end.

His eyes open to find you already awake before sunrise, staring at him like he always gets caught staring at you. You try to remain still and calm, but the minute cinch in your expression tells him that you're probably chanting Ha-Ha! Got you! on repeat in your head, and the thought makes him huff a laugh.

"What's so funny?" you ask seriously.

Spencer's smile remains as he shifts, close enough to touch his forehead to your own. "Absolutely nothing."

"You've always been a terrible liar."

"I don't know what you mean."

The giggles between the two of you steadily increase with every sentence, until your laughs turn into lazy kisses and then to sighs.

Sunlight eventually breaches the shades, signaling a different type of warmth and the start of a new day, and Spencer selfishly begs it not to be so, his hands reaching for you as you try to escape the bed.

"Stay," he groans, successfully keeping you next to him. "You don't have anywhere to be today, and neither do I..."

Bringing one of his hands to your lips, you laugh. "I know... But I don't want to spend all day in bed..."

"Then we won't... Just a few more hours?"

Your laugh this time is a full-blown cackle. The sound makes his heart soar. "Hours?"

"Yes, hours... This is the most comfortable place in the whole world. Don't you think that deserves hours of your time?"

"I suppose..." Snuggling back into the covers and adoringly rolling your eyes as your head hits the pillow once more, you've finally succumbed to your boyfriend's charms, a feat that feeds his silly pride and also warms him to the core.

You tell him you won't fall asleep and demand him to follow suit, to which he happily agrees, and then you're talking him through your plans for the day. Your voice is just as strong of a comfort as your touch, every syllable bright and soft, and certainly more pleasant than the incessant chirping of birds that some people seem to find soothing first thing in the morning for one reason or another.

As you talk to him, Spencer feels like he's sinking further into the mattress, like your voice and your smile and your fingers absentmindedly trailing the veins of his arms as you speak are casting him into an inescapable state of magnificent solitude.

He'd begged you for hours, but the unexaggerated truth is that he could stay like this forever.

Sensing the trance you seem to have put him under, you pause and tilt your head to study him. Still, your fingers stay true to their wanderlust and dance along the surface of his skin like it's second nature.

"You're looking at me funny."

"Hmm?"

Even as he raises an eyebrow, acknowledging you acknowledging him, it's like he can't be bothered to care. The dreamy haze in his eyes as it bores into you is a comfort in itself, but it's also very... tingle-inducing.

A familiar blaze heats your insides and every surface of your skin, and even without so much as a suggestive hum from him, you still find yourself shying away. "Stop it!"

You half-expect him to argue that he's not doing anything wrong in that cheeky way of his, but he remains silent and thoughtful, studying you carefully.

"Are you familiar with the concept of 'apricity'?"

Usually when he teaches you new things, he isn't staring at you like that. His voice isn't quiet and wistful and teetering on the edge of melancholy.

Unsure of what to make of it all, you shake your head. "No..."

"The word itself comes from the early 1600s. It's archaic, but the feeling is quite beautiful, and relevant to many people whether they know it or not. Apricity defines the feeling of the sun's natural warmth in the cold, usually harsh, winter."

You consider this, and try the word on your tongue, repeating it slowly and nodding. A small smile forms on your lips. "I like it. I guess it's nice to know that oddly-specific feeling has a name..."

Spencer hums and grabs your hand. "You have no idea..."

You laugh softly again. "No, I don't... Enlighten me?"

He considers this for a moment, then smiles, pulling you close to him. "That's just it— You enlighten my very existence. Just by being here in this bed with me."

As he attacks your neck with kisses, you can't help the string of laughter that escapes you. "Oh really?"

"Absolutely." The word is a confident rumble into your skin that soaks through, straight from his lips and down into to the depths of your soul and beyond. It erases any doubt you've ever harbored, lifts you into the light, and manifests as its own form of sunshine, settled right in the nooks and crannies of your heart.

Spencer pulls away briefly to look at you, taking your head in his gentle hands. His voice is soft, but firm.

"I guess what I mean is that... My life can be really dark and frigid a lot of the time... But ever since I've known you, it's like those moments aren't really so terrible anymore, because I know what true, natural love feels like. When I'm here, with you, I truly believe that nothing can hurt me. All I feel is warmth. Your warmth... You're my apricity."

An involuntary pout accompanies your wide, watering eyes as you lean into his touch, a tightness at your throat even as you try to tell him the easiest thing in the world.

"I love you," you manage to get out through a sob. It sounds utterly lame in comparison to the poetic metaphor he's just confessed to you, but given the fact that it's the first time the words have left your mouth, they seem to have the same effect on him regardless.

Spencer matches your pout and the two of you are drawn together like a summer thunderstorm— boldly, brightly, and full of life. The tears fall between you in a heap of pouring rain, but there's nothing gloomy in the love that carries you through it.

"I love you, too," he whispers, pulling away for a moment.

You kiss him again, then tell him, "I never want to leave this bed."

He kisses you and laughs, wiping away your tears as you both fall back, head to the pillows once more.

"I'm not going to fight you on that one."

You say it's fine if it's all in my mind Oh, you look so real but it feels like a lie, so

Don't pinch me in case I'm asleep In case you're not here 'cause this is a dream And we've never met so we're not in love In case I'm asleep, don't pull the–

Don't touch me, this coma is nice Too good to be true, so just let me lie Down in the sheets, 'cause here we're in love In case I'm asleep, don't pull the-

Plug Oh-oh-oh

--Pull The Plug, Ashe

[cognitiveoverload]

Rejection (Aaron Hotchner x reader)

summary: Being Hotch’s favorite is hard, but when he suddenly asks you out, you don’t really know if you’d like to make things harder for yourself.

tags: fem!tech analyst!reader

note: There will be more parts, not necessarily in chronological order. What do you think, what situations will they find themselves in? Send an ask with your idea, and let’s see what will happen.

At first, it was just a casual and genuinely innocent observation from Spencer. “Have you noticed that Hotch calls only you if he needs something?” he asked one day as he sat between you and Penelope in your little den.

But then this comment spread through the BAU like wildfire, making everyone think back of all the times their boss needed information, and look at that, they all remembered the same detail–it’s not just the fact he was always calling you, it was the fact he always called you by your first name.

And that’s how the constant teasing began. Derek, Emily, JJ and Penelope tormented you, with Spencer occasionally joining to spit out some facts about the both of you, while Rossi targeted Hotch as far as you knew. It was mortifying, really, but you got used to it.

What you still can't get used to is the change in your boss’ behavior. Recently he’s been different, although you can’t quite put a finger on what it is that changed. Sure, maybe he shows up a little more often in your office, strictly when Penelope isn’t around, and he brings you coffee when you’re working late or arrive a little too early as he does.

“How are you holding up?”

You turn your swivel chair around to look at Hotch, who’s standing in the door with an almost worried expression on his face. He sent Penelope home a few hours ago when a case affected her too much, and now apparently it was time for another wellness check in your little office. It’s hard to miss the way he’s flexing his fingers, a clear sign that he’s nervous, although you’re not a profiler, so you remain silent before you say something stupid.

Thinking about his question, you realize one thing. “It didn’t really affect me. Does this mean something’s wrong with me?” you ask him.

His lips part as he takes a shallow breath and thinks about what you just said. For a moment you think he’ll not give you an answer, but then he sits on the edge of your desk and watches you with a small smile. “It only means you’re tough. Look, you said, ‘It didn’t really affect me,’ which tells me it did affect you, just not as intensely as it did Garcia for example,” he explains kindly.

Nodding, you look down at your hands in your lap, but your gaze rises when he bumps his leg into your thigh. You expect him to say something, but Hotch remains silent, and he even acts like he didn’t do anything at all. There is one little thing that’s different, though. That barely visible smirk, the one you’ve all seen before.

Times like this it’s hard to comprehend the extremes in his behavior. He can act like this, so kind and supportive, but he can play rough too, especially when he loses control. And times like that, like a few days ago when he yelled at an agent who tried to take a case from him, you can’t help but think about how he could yell at you any time with you even thanking him.

Because, as pathetic as it might sound, an angry Hotch is simply irresistible. You probably have some issues that should be analyzed, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.

“I often wonder how you all can do this every single day. Penelope told me to brace myself when I arrived, but… It’s hard sometimes,” you admit quietly. “Yet, there are cases that don’t really make me feel anything. I can’t really wrap my head around that.”

His brown eyes soften in sync with his expression, and then his lips curl into a smile. “You’re a good person, never forget that. Not feeling anything might be your brain’s way of protecting you. Either way, if you ever want to talk, you know where to find me,” he tells you as he stands up.

You nod, then return to your computer once he’s heading to the door. But then the sound of footsteps suddenly dies, and when you turn around to see if he has just disappeared into thin air, you find him watching you with a thoughtful look. Your brows furrow in confusion, but you don’t say anything, you just wait for him to spit out whatever’s on his mind.

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asks casually.

It seems like an innocent, regular question between co-workers. The members of the BAU often team up in pairs or bigger groups to grab something, even Hotch joins them for a drink in a bar or dinner in some restaurant nearby. But he has never, ever gone out to eat with someone alone. Maybe with Rossi, but that doesn’t count.

So, it’s no wonder you have to think about the offer. You would be on thin ice, the team already has a little too much fun with the fact Hotch is playing favorites with you. If you have dinner with him alone, they might think you’ve been in some secret relationship all along.

In the end, the rational–or maybe rather paranoid–side of your brain makes the final decision. “Thanks, but I’d rather go home after I finish this,” you say, pointing at your computer.

He nods, and you begin to think he’s about to leave, but then he gulps and takes a deep breath, as if he’s gathering the strength or courage to say whatever’s on his mind. “I have paperwork that can’t wait, but I can give you a ride home after I’m done,” he offers, and there’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite identify.

“No need, I’ll be fine, but thanks anyway,” you tell him with a forced smile.

The last thing you need and want is Hotch taking you home. He means well, you know that, but you can’t risk being seen by someone who could easily start a rumor. The problem is, he’s almost as old as your dad, so people would talk about your nonexistent daddy issues, and he’s your boss, which would only make things worse.

So far the whole joke about being his favorite is something that stayed within the team, but if it gets out and reaches HR, you’re both done. You don’t want that, but not because of yourself. Hotch is ambitious, he’s insanely good at office politics, and if he wants to be promoted, he can’t be involved in such scandals.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by the sigh that leaves his lips. He looks almost disappointed, which is something you don’t really understand, because you can’t remember anything that could be even remotely rude. What is his problem? Or is there something he wants to talk about, something he wants to get off his chest?

Before you know it, he closes the door and walks back to you. “I’ve been making offers, and you turn down each and every one of them without hesitation. Why?” You can’t help but give him a confused look, because you have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about. Well, you know, but why does it bother him? “Is it because we would be alone?”

“It’s just… Wouldn’t it be weird?” you ask.

He inhales and exhales slowly before he suddenly crouches in front of you. “Look, there is a chance it will be weird, yes, but why don’t we give it a shot to see, huh? Come on, just you and me. If you’re afraid someone we both know will see us, we can go somewhere away from the usual crowd.”

You tilt your head to the side as you watch him, observing the look in his eyes, the small smile that makes your heart melt, and you simply can’t get yourself to say no to him. “Why?” you ask, although you know the answer, you just want to hear him say it.

“I’m sure I don’t have to spell it out for you,” he says with a boyish smile.

Gulping, you nod. A date. Aaron Hotchner wants to go on a date with you. But he’s your boss, if you started a relationship, there would be the danger of the aftermath of a breakup. Would you really like to risk it? You love this job, you love this team, you love Penelope, losing them wouldn’t be worth it.

You lick your lips as you push your chair back to build some distance. “I really have to get back to work now, and I’m sure Jack would be happy if you got home before bedtime,” you say, even though it hurts to turn down the invitation.

Hotch lets out a disappointed sigh as he stands up. “If you change your mind… you know. Good night.”

“Good night.”

[geekforhorror]

dating dae-ho headcanons

warnings: SMUT (DNI IF YOURE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), mentions of ptsd, fluff.

my babyyyy 🙁

where do i even start

he is the SOFTEST lover boy ever

he loves you with his entire heart

he would take you out on the most romantic date nights imaginable

also loves staying in and watching movies

he’s the type to remember the small things

he showers you with endless compliments because he sees you as the best thing ever

dae is the biggest fan of physical affection whether it’s giving or receiving

gift giving is also a love language for him

calls you baby, honey, darling, angel

loves showing you off

tells literally everybody about you guys

if there’s people who try messing with you, you can guarantee that dae will fuck them up even if he ends up not winning the fight

he loves kissing you on your forehead, hands, and lips

dae is a SUCKER for receiving kisses on the lips and soft kisses on the neck

every once in a while he has really bad ptsd episodes to the point where he has full blown panic attacks

when you saw him have one for the first time, you didn’t know how to comfort him

after a while you learned what worked to help him calm down

he definitely fidgets and does a lot of stimming

if he accidentally upsets you, he will do anything to make it right because he can’t fathom losing you

nsfw

this man.

first off, he’s such a switch

it doesn’t matter if he’s a dom or a sub, he’s a soft one

when he’s a soft dom, he treats you so fucking well

he always asks for consent no matter how many times you make love together

he never degrades you because it’s just not in him

deeper and softer > faster and rough

he only goes really fast and rough if you REALLY want it or if both of you need it

dae LOVESSSS lazy morning sex

how can he deny his sweet girl?

he praises you like the goddess he sees you as

he loves hickeys with a passion

“tits or ass?” both.

not only that but he’s just obsessed with your entire body

that man is a CERTIFIED MUNCH

he eats pussy like it’s a whole damn meal

loves being woken up with your mouth on his cock

loves being degraded AND praised at the same time

poor boy can’t get off or finish without it :(

he’s not one to really experiment

unfortunately he’s on the vanilla side of things but he is into pegging

i said what i said.

he wants that strap so badly 24/7

i just know he’s big.

7 inches soft and 8.5 inches hard

he’s thick too i don’t make the rules

extremely vocal no matter if he’s a dom or sub

he loves when the two of you exchange sounds because it adds to the intimacy of it all

his favorite positions are missionary (obvi) and cowgirl

whenever the two of you are finished, he loves to cuddle with you and make sure you’re alright

the king of aftercare

dae will run the two of you a bath even if it means him having to carry you to the tub when you’re too sore to walk by yourself

okay that’s it for now yall!

[seewetter]

1925 Reporter: So what does politically correct mean?

1925 Stalin: It means to obey the party line.

1925 Reporter: So it's possible to not obey the party line, right. Right?

1925 Anakin Skywalker: -

1925 Russian émigré: Hey Americans, Russia under Stalin was a nightmare. We don't know what to call his violent persecution of any dissent, but maybe politically correct will work?

1930s Reporter: So what does woke mean?

1930s Interviewee: We mean streetwise. To be woke is to realize the very real danger of racist cops and racists on the street. And to not forget where we are, and not to fall asleep at the steering wheel when it comes to progress against these unjust laws. Perhaps one day our civil rights movement might make a valiant effort to end that racism, that danger.

1940s New Yorker: So what does politically correct mean?

1940s New Yorker Leftist: Some people here in New York really mindlessly obey the local Communist Party. If the party agrees on something, it's gotta be right you know? We call those people politically correct to make fun of them.

1970s No One Asked...

1970s New Leftist: *Sigh* Chairman Mao looks so dreamy. Did you hear that he's all about free love and sexual liberty?

1970s Chairman Mao: Are women bourgeois?

1970s New Leftist: Mao says in his little red book we must hold the party line. Let's be politically correct!

post-1970s progressives: Huh, maybe this is a good word to describe decency and consideration for others.

1981 Ronald Reagan: I'm gonna pass laws so draconic and turn America into such an impoverished nightmare society that people are guaranteed to get really upset at the small things in their lives that they *can* change, cause I've made all the big things completely screwed up. This will result in right-wingers who can't stand good-faith left-wing criticism and "left-wingers" who get lost attacking other people for minor failings and incompatible lifestyles. If I play my cards right just 6 years from now some guy will explode at new ideas in education and even at universities there'll be moral busybodies who police other people's perceived failings. Yeeehaw!

1987 Interviewer: So what does political correctness mean?

1987 Allan Bloom, frothing at the mouth: College campuses. Universities. Students. hwuahifb. Young people. They have management students plan little real-life projects. The professors talk about the future of the industry and what jobs might exist! They do critical thinking exercises! BURN IT ALL! GNARHRGI!!!!

post-1987 right-wingers who need a book deal: wow. What a beautifully nebulous concept! Time to smear everyone and everything we hate and argue for more love towards our favorite pass-times: being insufferable. After all, some people on the Left TM attack people for small perceived moral failings.

1990s Press, *taking notes*: Political Correctness is when the Totalitarian Spanish Inquisition performs Witch Hunts and calls minor things by Extreme Names like Racism just like in George Orwell 1984.

1990s Russian émigrés from 1925 onward, now American neoconservatives: FINALLY someone listens to us about our experiences. I think. That's how I remember my experiences anyway. Gosh it's the 90s, that was half a century back! I'm old, memory is failing me. But these kids on them there college campuses sure do trigger my PTSD from my days under Stalin. Am I so out of touch? No, it's the children who are wrong.

2014 Curious person: So what does woke mean?

2014 Buzzfeed: We mean like hip. Here, take this "What kind of feminist am I quiz" where all answers you give, even misogynist ones, make you a feminist. To be woke is to be with the times, y'know. Being woke means riding the train of history. Just, y'know, without consulting the actual history of AAVE words. That might involve effort and we're way too cool and underpaid to put in effort.

2014 Anti-Feminist: Is this website a good source for what The Left TM wants? Must be.

2016 Asker: So what does woke mean?

2016 Terminally Insular "Leftist": Look, I get all my politics off Twitter and Buzzfeed, except I hate both. I live online and never try fixing things IRL. Woke is like bad Leftism: characterized by vanity, hysteria, shallowness.

2016 Anti-Feminist: Oh, like female vanity, female hysteria, female screeching harpies, female superficiality.

2016 Right-wing lobbyist: *taking notes*

2016 Right-wing spin doctor: *Hey*, guess which cool new word just dropped?! It's called woke, and you're not gonna believe this! It sounds trendy, it has no historical baggage, it lets us make fun of the Left, it only has one syllable and it'll get us a foot in the door with people terminally detached from actual politics.

2016 Right-wing spin doctor's polycule: Honey, come home. Please! We don't need your giant paycheck, we just want you. It's Christmas, can't you even leave the office on Christmas? Please?

2017 Confused person: So what is woke?

2017 Wise right-wing sage: Well. Uh. Um. It. Uh. When Left bad. Uh.

2017 Confused person: Is it different to political correctness? Is it the same thing? It seems like the same thing...

2017 Right-wing thought leader: We must oppose it with all our might. And by it I mean wokeness. And by wokeness, I mean um, uh, um, let me see, um, uh, uh...

The year is 2025. Legislators are passing anti-woke legislation. They still have the decency to put "wokeness" in quotation marks, because even they know, deep down, this has gotten ridiculous.

It’s kinda funny how “woke” as a negative term started amongst the online-left to criticize/make fun of obviously superficial and shallow displays of corporate inclusiveness (which has been clearly vindicated recently) but then the right coopted the term and for awhile they supposedly used it in the same sense of “it’s not actually sincere you’re dicksucking corporations the right is the true enemy of elites” but then it suddenly turned into “any minorities any acknowledgement a minority exists in this work of fiction is woke and grooming”

Similar story with terms like “politically correct” or “identity politics” which originated as critiques from the left but which the right grabbed onto and drained of any meaning

[formulawolff]

“so soon” — d.r.

pairing -> fem!reader x daniel ricciardo

word count -> {typed this on my phone… oopsies!}

warnings -> fluff, light cursing, mentions of loneliness, mentions of long distance, excessive pet names

a/n -> currently suffering because my favorite driver isn’t even a driver anymore. this is my coping mechanism.

“you look so silly right now.”

the corners of his lips twitch, curling into a quaint smile. dimples follow in suit, his eyes squinting ever so slightly. in the low light, you catch the sparkle twinkling in his eye as he pans the camera down, showcasing his full outfit.

“do i really?”

headphones rest on his ears, paired with a black embroidered beanie. a windbreaker spans across his chest, the hue matching the beanie. it’s a shade or two lighter, but it complements his curls. the neon yellow drawstrings are tied together tightly, to shield him from the elements.

he’s wearing shorts, ones you wish you could see in person, the hem hitting mid thigh. his tattoos poke out, only reminding you of what was underneath. what was for your eyes only.

he’s prepping for a run, setting you on the island in the kitchen as he performs a few stretches, carefully preparing his calves for what was to come.

a giggle bubbles up in your throat as you snuggle into your pillow, nodding along.

“yes, you look a tad bit ridiculous.”

his brow furrows, accept seeping through his words as he shakes his head.

“no way.”

“you actually look extremely sexy right now,” you exhale, feeling a frown form, “if only i was there with you.”

“we’d be hitting cardio right now if you were,” he shoots you a wink, chuckling as you roll your eyes, “c’mon my love, that was funny. admit it.”

“i guess,” you huff, pulling the pillow against your chest even closer, ���i miss you.”

“i miss you more,” you watch as his shoulders slump slightly, “did you do anything fun today?”

“not really,” you mutter, feeling your throat tighten as he tilts his head, gaze fixated on you, “i just went to the store to get a some things. that’s it.”

the lust laced in his tone has now dissolved completely, the australian’s words barely a whisper.

“i know how hard this has been on you, and i’m sorry. i just want to make sure that you’re still getting out and—“

“you don’t have to be sorry,” you voice trembles as your vision blurs, “it just fucking sucks. that’s all.”

“not too much longer now, yeah?” plucking the phone from the table, he brings the camera to face-level, so that your eyes meet with his.

“only two more weeks until i get to hold you. only fourteen days until you get endless kisses. only about three hundred and thirty-six hours until i get to tell you i love you a million times.”

you start to speak, yet you’re cut off by the sound of rain as it patters against the window-pane. a singular tear rolls down your cheek, your attention focused on the streams that slither down the glass, the rumble of thunder sending a shiver down your spine. you can feel him watching you, taking in the way the candlelight bathes your features.

“look at that,” he murmurs, “it’s raining here too. a little reminder that we’re under the same sky. the same sun, moon, and stars. we’re not as far apart as you think, baby.”

“c-can you show me?” you sniffle, wiping away your tear.

“of course baby,” he dips his head, tapping on the screen.

the camera angle flips, adjusting momentarily. he has it angled towards his skylight, the dull roar of the rainstorm flooding your ears. there’s a coziness that seeps into your chest, embracing your heart as your lids droop.

“see?” he comes into the frame, flashing you a dazzling grin as he gestures upward, “we’re not as distant as you think, sweet girl. same rainstorm. just a few states apart.”

situating your phone against your spare pillow, you burrow underneath your comforter, soaking in the warmth, “i love you.”

“and i love you,” he coos, “do you want me to stay on while i run?”

“yes please,” the words are a little slurred, exhaustion taking a hold, “this damn storm is making me sleepy.”

“good,” he chirps, “my pretty girl needs her beauty rest.”

“and my pretty boy needs to be here with me.”

“so soon pretty baby,” his voice is soothing, only encouraging you further and further into slumber, “so soon we’ll be underneath the covers, watching our favorite movie. we’ll be skin on skin, all comfy and cozied up. i’ll be showering you with endless kisses, and all of my love.”

“i can’t wait,” you mumble, lashes fluttering as the door to his apartment creaks, “be safe on your run, danny.”

“of course,” heat flourishes into his cheeks as he glances down at his phone, relishing the sight before him.

you’re buried underneath your comforter, half of your face shielded by swath of fabric. luckily, you blew your candle out, so he didn’t have to fret over that. he was more concerned with the fact that he was not there to hold you, to comfort you.

as he adjusts his headphones, he clicks his volume up, the sound of your breathing coming in through the ear pieces. sure, he could be listening to music. he could turn on a podcast, or find a youtube video so that he could reminisce on the days of the past. weekends spent on the track, dreaming of the taste of victory.

but nothing compared to the sound of you.

you could be doing anything, and he would listen, soaking in every second.

and fuck, how could he ignore how beautiful you were? so at peace. so content as you dozed off. if only he was there to brush the strands from your forehead, to ensure that you wouldn’t be disturbed from your slumber.

he hoped that he wormed his way into your dreams, just so that you knew there wasn’t a minute that passed by where he wasn’t thinking of you.

as his feet hit the slick pavement, the cool air flooding his lungs, he tucks his phone into the pocket of his windbreaker. there was no way he was going to let you get all soaked in rain. especially while you were sleeping. that just wouldn’t be fair.

sure, it was a little childish. a little trivial.

but as long as you were happy, it didn’t matter.

and as his pace quickens, he can’t help but let his mind wander.

of course, it only wandered to you.

oh, how he was ready to see you. his heart ached the thought. he yearned to touch you. to kiss you. to wrap you up in his embrace.

he could though, oh so soon.

he was anticipating that moment. the moment where he would get to sweep you up off your feet, lost in your own little word.

he would get to soon enough.

oh, so soon.

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumpee sighed and rolled their eyes as Whumper's friends commanded them to sit. They half-heartedly sat down. Sloppily, the way they knew Whumper hated, but these idiots weren't Whumper.

"No, do it like you're supposed to", one of them crossed their arms, "what was Whumper's command."

Whumpee shrugged their shoulders. They weren't going to talk regardless, not without permission, but they had zero plans on helping these fools with that freaken command anyways.

"It was sit something", a friend thought out loud.

One of the friends got down into Whumpee's face.

"You know what we are asking you to do, so do it already", they spoke gruffly, "I'll tell Whumper you're misbehaving."

Whumpee sat like a statue, looking straight ahead, not bothering to make eye contact.

"Whumper, I think your pet is broken. They won't listen to us", friend D complained.

"What is your command where they sit really nicely?", friends B called.

Whumper came out of the kitchen carrying drinks.

"Whumpee, sit pretty for me", Whumper commanded while passing the drinks to their friends.

Whumpee adjusted how they sat to be more straightened. They puffed out their chest, pulled their knees up, and placed their hands on the floor, palms down. This pose was extremely uncomfortable and took forever to learn. Not from Whumpee being difficult, but their body not liking the stress position.

"That is one of their special commands, meaning I'm the only one they have to listen to for it", Whumper sat down, "Whumpee release."

Whumpee released with a gasp of relief, and sat down their normal way, the way Whumper wanted.

"It's a stress pose and shouldn't be used for a long period of time", Whumper smiled at their pet, "that's why only I can give it to them, so they don't get injured."

Whumpee sighed in relief that Whumper made it clear that Whumpee only needed to listen to them.

"Why do you care if they are comfortable?", friend A kicked at Whumpee playfully, "the little fucker shouldn't be treated so well."

"They're a pet. You wouldn't treat your dog so poorly. Whumpee is no different to me", Whumper frowned, "it takes a while to learn these tricks. Mostly because their body needs to be trained to do it. It would waste the time I've spent on training them if I broke them. You all know I don't like wasting time."

"What's another special trick they know", friend B asked.

"Whumpee", Whumper waited for them to look up. They made their hands into the shape of a gun and pointed it at Whumpee, "bang."

Whumpee dramatically fell to the floor and closed their eyes. They pushed their tongue out of their mouth as a finishing touch.

"Good job Whumpee", Whumper laughed.

His friends also joined in and laughed.

Whumpee popped their head up and looked at Whumper for another command.

"What's your favorite trick?", Whumper looked at Whumpee happily.

That was sneakily a command for Whumpee.

Whumpee got up and crawled away and laid down on their dog bed.

"Wh... what did they just do?", friend A frowned.

"It's a sneaky trick to tell them to go relax", Whumper grinned, "it's just funny to watch them crawl away after asking what their favorite trick is. The command combines bed and at ease."

"Whumpee, do you want a slice of pizza?", Whumper set their plate on their lap.

Whumpee looked up and nodded.

"Come here, I grabbed an extra slice", Whumper grinned.

Whumpee quickly got off of their bed and crawled to Whumper.

"Sit", Whumper waited until Whumpee was right in front of them, "good Whumpee."

Whumpee sat excitedly and looked at the pizza.

"Here, don't make a mess please", Whumper handed them the plate.

Whumpee excitedly grabbed at the pizza and took their first bite.

"What food do they eat normally?", one friend watched curiously.

"Normal human food. I'm not a monster. They need to eat food that gives their body nutrients", Whumper watched Whumpee, "normally it's a strict diet. That's how I eat, so it only makes sense to feed them like that as well. They occasionally get a treat though."

Whumpee licked their fingers happily after their last bite. They looked at Whumper, then at their hands.

"You may have another slice if you like", Whumper stood, "but you won't get any more food tonight. Two slices will definitely be enough for your dinner."

Whumpee quickly nodded, and happily crawled behind Whumper as they went into the kitchen.

"Here you go", Whumper handed them a big slice, then patted their head, "my friends will gone in a little while, then we can relax."

Whumpee looked happily at the slice as Whumper talked.

"I may even allow you to eat a cookie tonight", Whumper chuckled, "how does that sound?"

"It sounds good Master", Whumpee giggled.

"Did that thing just talk?", all of the friends yelled.

"Yes, Whumpee can speak. I just don't think they like you guys. They talk to my other friends just fine", Whumper yelled out the kitchen, "my other friends don't call them mean names though or kick them."

"Oh, come on", the friends poured into the kitchen, "make them talk again."

"Whumpee, what's your favorite trick", Whumper turned to grab a drink from the counter.

Whumpee placed their half eaten slice of pizza in their mouth and crawled between the groups legs and to their bed.

"Oh, come on", they complained dramatically.

Whumpee giggled as they sat in their bed and ate.

Whumper came out and sat down.

"I can't get them to do anything", they jokingly sighed, "such a bad pet."

"You're a liar", their friends stared longingly at Whumpee.

"Speak", one of them commanded.

"That's not the command", Whumper laughed loudly.

Their friends turned to glare at Whumper.

Whumper shrugged.

"Should have been nicer to them", Whumper sighed playfully, "maybe next time."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@weirdthingweee @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@risk606 @electrons2006

@paperprinxe @whumprince

@kaz-of-crows @mis-graves

@decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @sausages-things

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@jumpywhumpywriter @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @thenormalestever

@whatwhump @galatic-worm

@starmoon-constellation @bacillusinfection

[kumkaniudaku]

Just For You

Summary: Terry and Patrice give each other lasting nicknames.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: None

"Terrence and Patrice, you're married. Any objections?" 

None from Terry. A few from Patrice, but what was new? She always had objections. Ms. Cole answered each of her star pupil's questions in extreme detail before sending the pair home as a fictional married couple exploring the semester's section on personal finance. 

It was Terry's idea for them to work together on the weekend at his house, citing weekday football practices as too much of a hindrance to after-school instructional time. His sophomore year came with another growth spurt to a towering 6'1", and he couldn't let the new length or extra muscle go to waste. The fight for starting receiver had only just begun. 

Patrice hated falling behind. The thought of letting days pass without tracking toward their project's completion ate away at her. She allowed Terry to have his way, but under one condition: they'd work all morning on Saturday to knock things out in one day.

He scrunched his face and ran a hand over his haircut. "Patrice, that's a lot. We can't stretch it to two days?" He thought again for a better solution when she started to open her mouth with a rebuttal. "What if we talked on the phone and finished up Sunday night! Then you only have to leave home once!" 

"Take it or leave it, Terrence. One day or a little bit every day after your practice." 

With Saturday morning SportsCenter's top five clips playing on the television while they sat beside each other, their feet and legs jutting out from beneath his mother's coffee table, it was clear he'd taken the offer with a few concessions. Highlights stayed on during homework. 

Patrice sat still and quiet while she watched Terry twirl a pencil between his fingers and squint at the instructions on their project syllabus. Late morning sunlight streaming through the living room window brought out the honey color in his eyes, her favorite part of the blue-green pieces of art she pretended not to sneak glances at when they spent time together. His brows furrowed to create little ripples at the center of his forehead. Three. She always counted them when he made his focused face. 

If anyone didn't know him, he'd look like an intimidating man at least five years his senior. But Patrice knew Terry was mostly a gentle giant. He spoke softly as if the sound of his own voice was scary, opened doors, laughed on occasion, and remained polite day to day. Compared to the other boys in his grade, Terry was a saint—a saint slowly creeping his way into Patrice's day-to-day thoughts. 

Terry's shoulder brushed against Patrice's as he shifted on the floor, making her shuffle further away to avoid the goosebumps populating her forearm. Terry glanced over, concern replacing the focus in his eyes. "You okay? Did I hit you?" 

"No, I just didn't wanna be so deep in your space." Partially true. The why was her secret to keep. 

Terry shrugged. "It's cool. You're not bothering me." She never was. If he were honest, Terry wished she would bother him more. Come over more, show up to more games, and stay on the phone a little later when he called under the guise of missing notes from class, knowing the only thing he missed was her voice. He scooched closer to her, leaving a sliver of space between them. "So, I think you're the breadwinner in this scenario. Sixty-thousand a year ain't half bad. You must be a professor or something. Talkin' them students' heads off, I'm sure." 

"Shut up," Patrice laughed as she elbowed his side. "You aren't far behind! Your $45k gets us to a combined $105k. That's more money than I've ever seen." 

Her compliment of his pretend income pulled a closed-mouth smile from Terry. "Yeah, well, how do we spend it? Says here we need to budget our combined monthly income between bills, discretionary spending, and savings." Quick mental math helped him tally their post-tax income. "That's $3,204 bi-weekly. Just under $7000 a month. I think we can handle that." 

"Let's start with housing and work from there?" 

"I'm following your lead." 

One hour of hard work and bickering netted the play couple one outcome they could agree on. Terry thought it'd be best for them to choose a modest three-bedroom dwelling with a low mortgage to fit their housing needs and free up funds for two cars. Though Patrice wanted a bigger backyard for her garden, she relented when her mate pointed out she'd get the better car and a summer vacation if they were wise with their monthly spending. One night out a week, $500 a month in "fun funds," and a strict savings schedule left them more than enough money in their reserve to consider children in their plan. 

Brain fog stemming from a quietly growling belly made Patrice stretch her arms high about her head and whine. "Can we take a break? I'm a little hungry." 

"I can make you something!" Hearing the extra eagerness in his own voice felt like a punch to the throat for Terry. Embarrassment had him scaling back to save face. "It's just a PB&J. You don't want me using the stove. Or you can wait 'til my mom gets home. She usually does crawfish on the weekends."

"Shoot, let's do both! I've never had crawfish before."

Not ever having crawfish was a cardinal sin in Terry's household. If his parents found out Patrice had been living a life without experiencing their family specialty, she'd be forced to camp out until every piece of corn, sausage, potato, and crustacean was consumed. Terry logged the reference in the back of his mind for later use as he made his way into the kitchen. 

While Terry focused on the even spreads of peanut butter and jelly on his mama's "good" bread, Patrice took her time mosying around the large living room to acquaint herself with her surroundings. 

Expensive trinkets and books she'd never read lined the cubby spaces on one side of their large wooden entertainment center. On the other, family photos told the Richmond family's story. At the top, Mr. and Mrs. Richmond posed in formal attire with big smiles to celebrate what Patrice assumed was their wedding day. Another shelf featured photos of twin girls with encased baby booties in the middle. She smiled at their big afro puffs and chocolate-covered faces while they enjoyed dessert at Disney World. Then, she spotted it. Perched on a stack of photo albums, a little boy decked in Spider-Man gear from head to toe stretched himself in the hero's signature squat. But those eyes were unmistakable. Little Terrence was clearly on a mission to save the world. Or his backyard, at the very least. 

In awe of how cute Terry looked as a kid playing make-believe, Patrice reached out to grab the frame for a closer look. That was him, alright. Terry still had the same toothy grin that crinkled his nose at the bridge and made his eyes close from the rise of his cheeks. Ears too big for his body stood out even more than they did ten years later. He may have been smaller in stature and much more upbeat than the brooding teenager in the other room, but after a year of friendship and a little secret pining, she could recognize him anywhere. 

Immersion disarmed Patrice's senses, giving Terry ample space and opportunity to sneak up on her. "That's funny?" His voice cut through the silence, making Patrice jump and turn to catch the sly smile on his face. "That was my fifth birthday. I can't remember why I didn't get a party, but I guess I still had fun that day." 

"It's cute," Patrice complimented. "I didn't know they made masks for little kids with adult-sized heads." 

Payback from her jab tasted perfectly sweet on her tongue, like her Nana's homemade apple pie. Patrice watched Terry roll his eyes and shake his head before pulling the glass photo frame from her hands and placing it back in its rightful spot. 

He pretended to laugh along before kissing his teeth. "Come get this sandwich before I change my mind, girl." 

Terry would never change his mind, no matter how hard he tried to pretend or fight back the smile revealing his top row of teeth. Patrice had a free license to pick with him, and, on occasion, he'd join in to further solidify their friendship. 

Lighthearted rounds of the dozens meandered into winding conversions dominated by Patrice's favorite secret chatterbox. He ran through team drama a mile a minute, only taking breaks to chew and ask her intentions for the remaining pretzels on her plate. She granted him permission to clean up her portion and his if it meant he'd keep talking. 

"So, you like orange?" His abrupt change in subject turned Patrice's passive listening into active confusion. He pointed at the scrunchie on her wrist to clarify. "The color, I mean. I noticed you wear it all the time. I was just wondering if it's your favorite." 

Patrice fiddled with the ponytail holder, looking for anything to keep her from making eye contact with Terry. Knowing she was being watched excited and terrified her with equal intensity. "Um, yeah. It is." 

"How come?" 

"I don't know, really. I think because of how the sky turns orange when the sun's going down in the summertime. That's always been pretty to me." Terry committed the information to memory with a quick head nod, letting awkward silence scream into Patrice's ear until she forced out a follow-up question. "What about you? What's your favorite color?" 

Terry thought for a moment. "Blue, mostly. But like Carolina blue. If you get too dark, it's like the Patriots, and I hate the Patriots." 

"Dang. Soooo, no tickets to see Tom Brady for our fun money, huh?" 

"Well, I ain't say all that!" 

Stomach-busting laughter derailed all thoughts of returning to the second half of their assignment. Instead, they chose to take a nose dive into each other's likes, dislikes, and anything in between. Terry had to know Patrice's birthday for…research purposes. 

She scribbled the date on his mother's wall calendar. "April 23rd, remember? Shakespeare's birthday!" 

Fitting. Terry stored the date away in the section of his brain reserved for important things like stats and Lil Wayne lyrics for good this time. 

"What's your favorite food?" 

"My maman's étoufée," Terry answered, whistling from the memory of last Thanksgiving. "I can't wait to go visit next month!" 

How Patrice wished to visit with him and experience even the smallest taste of the dish, brightening his smile more than she'd ever seen before. 

Back and forth they went while time morphed into more of an abstract concept than a rule governing the physical world. Terry's favorite film? Remember the Titans. An obvious answer for obvious reasons, but Patrice loved to hear his explanation anyway. Patrice's plans for her future career? A teacher, high school English more specifically. And, if she found the time, she'd get her PhD and teach other teachers how to teach one day. Her commitment to learning and school was admittedly odd to Terry, but still, he found her passion for it magnetic. 

In their own world, Patrice and Terry were free to be themselves in every imperfect way. Nothing was too nerdy or too weird to discuss. And, if it got close, they knew to keep each other's secrets. 

Gathering plates for cleanup, Terry rattled off his umpteenth question. "What's your middle name? Wait! Can I guess?" Patrice smiled and pushed for him to take his best shot. "You look like a Nicole." 

"No way! How'd you guess that?" 

"Every Black girl's middle name is Nicole. Or Marie. It was a 50/50 chance." 

"It was a 50/50 chance," Patrice mocked before kissing her teeth. "What's yours? Michael?" 

Terry smirked at her attempt to get him back. "Nope. It's James. Me and my dad have the same one." 

"I guess that's kinda cool." Curiosity turning the wheels in Patrice's head robbed her of seeing Terry trying to hide his smile and reddening ears from her view. "Do people ever call you TJ, or is it always Terrence or Terry?" 

Hardly anyone called him Terrence. His full first name was his mother's go-to when he was in trouble. In school, teachers faithfully called him what existed on the roll sheet. But, those closest to his heart knew him as Terry and nothing else. The divide between Terrence and Terry was his way of telling friends from foes. TJ, though, was new and interesting.

Thinking for a couple of seconds yielded no results. "Nah, I don't think so. You can have dibs if I give you one." 

Decisions decisions. Alternate names gifted by little boys never went well for Patrice. Four Eyes, Girl Urkel, and Stilts still haunted her well past elementary and middle school. The potential fallout from another botched nicknaming debacle wouldn't deter her from having something special between them.

"Fine," Patrice relented, grumbling enough to pull a laugh from Terry. "But nothing about my physical appearance. Or food-related. Or downright mean. Or Pat. I hate Pat." 

Her heavy southern twang exaggerated all of her demands, eliciting a laugh from Terry as he shook his head. "You know, usually, people don't get that much say in their nicknames. It's kinda the whole point." 

"Yeah, well, this ain't one of them time, so tread lightly." 

Terry lifted his hands in surrender, not wanting to squander his opportunity to deepen their connections. If rules existed around what he could and could not call her, so be it. "What about…P," he prosed after a few seconds. "Short and simple." 

"And unfortunately already taken by my mama. Try again." 

"Patty? Like LaBelle. Y'all both kinda mean but in a cool, old lady way." 

Patrice's annoyed eye roll sharply contrasted with Terry's impish grin. Payback was officially his again. 

"Terry, I swear! Be serious!" 

Relenting, he tossed out another option. "Okay, okay," he laughed. "For real this time. How does Treece sound? Just the second part of your name." Terry watched her mull over the idea, his smile growing when she offered no immediate rebuttal. He nudged her shoulder and smiled when she forced a sour expression. "Nah, you like it! Treece! Treecey! Big Treece!" 

Listening to Terry rattle off variations of her newly minted nickname, the sound from his lips sounding like her mother asking who wants a second helping of ice cream or Usher singing to her and her alone through her radio's speakers. 

"You know we sound like twins now, right? TJ and Treece?" 

"That's what we should name the kids." 

Missing context caused an invisible record to scratch, forcing Terry to quickly correct himself. Kids? They'd just reached good friend status. Patrice opened her mouth to question Terry, but he beat her to the punch with an explanation. 

He emphatically waved his hands in front of him, trying to sweep the misstep into the ether. "For the project! I meant kids for the project!" 

"Right!" The project. Duh. Patrice tried to recover cooly from what she was sure looked like utter panic with a dash of hopefulness on her face. "The kids from the project. Which –" 

"We should get back to. It's gettin' late. Unless you stayin' for crawfish tonight?" 

Dancing eyebrows and an irresistible grin slowly turned a firm no into a maybe before Patrice could stop her lips from moving. 

She sighed, giving in to the barely there push of peer pressure. "I'll call and ask my mom," she grumbled. "Is the phone in the living room, TJ?" 

"By the couch, Treece." 

Special names reserved for private use added another layer to a friendship blossoming by the day. Terry stood in the kitchen for a second longer to try out Patrice's new moniker alone, flexing different inflections and how it sounded next to his. Treece and Terry. Terry and Treece. Treece Ellis. Treece Richmond.

The last one earned a few repeats until Patrice's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. 

"No luck on crawfish, TJ! I've got to leave to babysit my brother tonight!" she hollered from the other room. “Come on so we can finish! We gotta get one of these kids on paper and budget for their Spider-Man birthday party!" 

Terry chuckled and shook his head. She'd never let him live that down. "Alright. I'm coming. You're a real demanding wife, you know that?" he shouted back with a smile.

Treece Richmond. He could get used to that one.

—————-

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[baekchelor]

Off Script

pairings: Drew Starkey x reader genre: romantic comedy rating: pg13 synopsis: on the set of his new film, Drew Starkey, discovers an undeniable truth: that the line between fiction and reality is thinner than he ever imagined.

Foreword

Ain't you a lucky bastard?" Chase smirks, mischief flickering in his eyes as he takes a sip of his beer. "An extremely lucky bastard." 

Franklin Avenue hides their favorite spot, a cozy bar tucked away from the usual hustle, frequented by regulars who know its charm. Tonight is no exception; the place is quiet, with just a few patrons scattered in its polished corners. Chase’s words hang in the air, but it takes a beat before they reach Drew, who’s absorbed in his phone. 

"What?" Drew asks, his blue eyes still glued to the screen. He’s texting Maddie—if you could even call it texting. It’s just logistics, really. She’s asking if they’re still on for later. Drew knows Maddie is falling for him, but he doesn’t feel the same. He doesn’t want to hurt her—he cares about her, genuinely—but not in the way she hopes. He knows where this is headed, and it’s only a matter of time before someone gets hurt.

He hits send, feeling a weight settle in his chest. It’s just routine now. Casual, no strings, at least that’s what they agreed on. But he’s seen the look in her eyes lately, how things are shifting. It’s not mutual, though, and that troubles him more than he lets on. He really doesn’t want to hurt her. 

Just then, Chase interrupts again. "Dude, look!" Chase insists, holding out his phone, grinning like he’s about to break some monumental news. 

Drew sighs but grabs the phone anyway. He takes one look and immediately feels the weight of the headline hit him. 

Y/N Y/L/N AND DREW STARKEY TO PLAY STARCROSSED LOVERS, the headline reads. THEIR FORBIDDEN LOVE STORY IN GRETA GERWIG'S NEW PERIOD DRAMA: DHARMA, COULD BE THE NEXT GREAT ON-SCREEN ROMANCE. 

Drew stares at the article photo and lets out a low chuckle. The headline feels surreal.

Chase leans in, practically buzzing. "Dude, you realize what this means, right? You and Y/N? The next big on-screen couple. People are going to lose their minds over this."

Drew rubs the back of his neck, the reality of it slowly settling in. "Yeah, I know. I’m still processing it." 

"You haven’t met her yet, have you?" Chase’s grin widens, seeing an opportunity to prod. "No, not yet. We’ll meet at the table read next week," Drew says, his voice a little too casual, but Chase picks up on it. 

"And?" Chase raises an eyebrow, egging him on. "Come on, man. She’s stunning." 

Drew tries to shake it off, but even he can’t deny Y/N’s allure. He’s seen her work, and there’s no denying the excitement building up. The thought of working with her—spending months playing lovers in such an intense role—is thrilling. There’s a quiet anticipation gnawing at him, even if he won’t admit it out loud. 

But then, there’s also Joe Burrow. Drew remembers seeing a photo of them, —Joe kissing Y/N after his Super Bowl win two years ago. 

"It’s not like that," Drew mutters. "It’s the role, the project itself that’s exciting. It’s Greta Gerwig, man. Huge opportunity. Incredible cast." 

"Yeah, sure." Chase doesn’t buy it for a second, his smirk growing. "But I’m telling you, this could be it. You and her? The next big thing." 

Drew chuckles, shaking his head. "You’re getting ahead of yourself." 

"Am I though? You’ve seen how these things play out. On-screen chemistry... it’s magic, man. People are gonna be all over you two. " 

Drew leans back, the reality of the situation sinking in. He’d be lying if he said the idea didn’t cross his mind, especially after the buzz the film’s announcement has already generated. His phone’s been blowing up ever since the casting news dropped. Everyone’s talking about it—the hype, the excitement. And maybe Chase is right... the public’s going to eat this up. 

But there’s more to it than just that. He’s curious about her. About working with someone who’s got that kind of talent, that kind of energy on screen. And maybe—just maybe—about what’s going to happen when the cameras aren’t rolling. 

Chase raises his beer in a mock toast. "To the next big on-screen couple." 

Drew smirks, grabbing his beer, but as he clinks the glass, his mind is elsewhere. In just a few days, he’ll be sitting across from Y/N at the table read. He’s never met her before, but something tells him this is only the beginning. 

"We’ll see," Drew murmurs, but deep down, there's a flicker of something more. Excitement. Curiosity. Anticipation. 

And as the night drifts on, one thing becomes clear: this isn’t just another role. Something about this project—about her—is going to change everything.

ɴᴇxᴛ ►

[poppyknitt]

Also, wanna add that Roots of Pacha is an in-development farming sim, too! No idea how "cozy game" it is but its cozy for me. It's based on a fictional interpretation of neolithic (i think) era groups and extremely fun. I can not recommend the game enough. Looked it up, and the only controversy i can find looks to be a publisher dispute that evidently resolved, as they're back on steam and have been for a while. (Adding a more in-depth explanation of what i like below. Going into depth about roots of pacha as it is one of my favorite games and I don't have many of those).

It's a bit different in that there's currently no combat, and while there is a bit of ease added through using the wiki, you can absolutely figure a lot if not all of it out on your own. There is animal domestication, lots of seasonal and a few year-by-year shifts, and from what i saw, polyamory! You can choose whether to do that when you get to the appropriate amount of hearts with a second/third/fourth/etc romanceable npc. Currently, there does seem to be a thing that no matter your intentions, romanceable npcs do interpret your kindness as romance by default, but I don't know how normal that is as I'm not actually that big on the genre, and I haven't looked to see if there's plans to modify that. Just know some npcs apparently take being only your friend a bit harder than others.

Also theres a sapphic couple w 3 wolves as their pet and a son. I love them forever. Another few notable things (albeit a marginal spoiler) are that several characters, romanceable and otherwise, address some very real topics. A widower who is trying to move on with his daughter who doesn't want the life he's trying to give her, a man who comes home with a family he didn't have before & the family learning to live with these new people, misunderstandings that led to xenophobic beliefs, and mental + physical disability. While no characters have confirmed diagnoses, it is interpretable that at least one is autistic (imo, as an audhd individual myself), directly shown that another is physically disabled and uses a cane/walking stick, and several other conditions can be inferred if you wish to do so. There's probably more I've missed, as I'm not even that far in! Imo this game is so inclusive, and that plus everything else makes me love it so much.

Sun Haven still doesn't have credits

The game Sun Haven is a cozy farm sim in a magical world. It released in Early Access in 2021, and exited into its full 1.0 launch in 2023. It has over 15k Steam reviews and over a hundred dollars' worth of DLC.

The game still doesn't have credits of who worked on it.

I don't understand why this is. For more than a year, folks (myself included) have politely asked on the community Discord server where the list of people who worked on the game is, and it's always ignored. At most, the team makes their comm manager say "they're coming soon."

Implementing credits is not difficult. Even most Early Access titles including a WIP credits in the game. It's a list of text. It's the bare minimum you can do. It's really disrespectful to both your devs and players to not want to share who made the game. Also a red flag.

It's become clear enough from the Discord that the game enlisted a fleet of contract workers, plus fan volunteers, plus machine-assisted work like for language translations.

I don't know if the credits are missing because the director doesn't care about the team, or is embarrassed, or is trying to hide something. I hope they reverse course soon. But I can't in good conscience recommend anyone play or support Sun Haven.

There's lots of great cozy farming games out there: go play Littlewood, Fields of Mistria, Fae Farm, Disney Dreamlight Valley, or heck...go play some more Stardew Valley.

[cinnamoncilla]

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ FEM Labs ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

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my beauty BRAND!!!!

so cutesy ₊˚⊹♡

name:i decided to call it fem labs due me randomly going on going on REM beauty’s website and saw a gloss called “Fem bots”and i thought wow that’s a cute name because before it was called “Cassiopeia beauty” but now Fem labs is so cute and much better name !!!

What my brand consists of: perfumes, makeup and skincare

blends: REM beauty, Rhode, Ariana grande perfume & more

what i’m taking from REM:i’m taking basically everything changing the name to a few things making them titled after songs of mine. my favorite thing I did with this was the glosses from REM have a distinct taste like victoria secret gloss !!!

EX: the lipgloss “pink razor” will have a candy taste and i think that’s soo cute and cool but also makes you unforgettable kissing someone (hoe out girl😋 i don’t🧍‍♀️)

RHODE: basically everything changing names to things and packaging too to like match the REM beauty packaging my brand will have !!! I’m also changing the cleanser from “pineapple refresher cleanser” to “strawberry refresher cleanser” which will have a baby pink liquid cuz i love pink !

makeup aesthetic:

Extra: there are more brands i’m taking from but they’re so small that i don’t count it really but if you’d like to know it’s a bits and pieces from rare beauty & haus lab

Perfume(s) : obviously taking from Ariana but not ALL her perfumes but to name a few Cloud, Mod vanilla & Mod blush, REM, along with Cherry eclipse.

Sabrina: sweet tooth, Carmel dream, and cherry baby.

Billie: the eilish No.1 which will be named Evans (once i. get married)

Kylie: Cosmic

ORIGINAL (for once): i made my own perfume called self love potion which will smell like the vanilla candy rock sugar by kay ali not so original (😞) this perfume not only an original it will be my first launch!!

what it looks like!!!!

EXTRA:Fans will suspect i’m coming out with a brand which will also be announced through a vogue beauty secrets video (i loveee vogue beauty secrets).my brand is going to try and be affordable,VERYY inclusive shade range !!unmatched!! and extremely popular in the beauty world literally the BEST bigger than Fenty and Rare combined (have to outdo the best 🤭)

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[abhainnwhump]

Around a week ago, my best friend and I were exchanging favorite fictional characters. She ended up showing me a screenshot of one of the killers from Scream. I made a joke about the bloody knife he was licking being extremely unsanitary, then I looked up an article to prove my point. Human blood does in fact, give you horrible diseases if you drink it and you can be arrested for possession and use of it.

I was left with a couple ideas:

- Vampire Whumper drinking Whumpee's blood, not knowing that it is a special kind of poison, or don't care.

- Whumpee being forced to drink blood and getting horribly sick.

- By extension, Whumpee being forced to eat very undercooked meat.

- Police Caretaker breaking into a ritual and finding Whumpee, near dead, being used as a sacrifice by Whumper and their friends.

- Vampire Whumpee only having access to infected blood. Get sick or starve.

- Whumper with a massive collection of former Whumpees' blood in jars.

- Whumpee trapped outside in a storm, sheltering in a cave, and struggling to prepare hunted animal meat properly.

- Blood donation ends up going very wrong. - Long dried blood, despite what most movies and games would like you to believe, is brown or black in color. Caretaker buys a used metal object from Whumper and thinks it's rust or discoloration. Then they clean it off and the towel looks red.

[sunshinesickies]

Feveruary Day 3— Caught in the Rain— Arcane Caitlyn x Vi

Yes, I know getting sick from being in the rain is somewhat of a myth but I’m pretty sure us sickfic writers don’t care 🤷‍♀️

Post-War, Violyn established relationship, mostly fluff because they deserve it

Warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive if you squint

“You almost ready, Cupcake?” Vi calls out gently to Caitlyn, dawning her signature red jacket while her girlfriend puts the finishing touches on her ‘casual’ makeup look for the evening. Violet smiles to herself as she recalls the conversation they’d had earlier where the two of them agreed that neither half of their shared date night required anything too fancy, yet Caitlyn has still been in the bathroom for the last 45 minutes doing heck knows what.

“Just a second!” Caitlyn’s accented voice travels through the rooms, and true to her word, she emerges only seconds later, looking so gorgeously stunning that Vi may or may not have forgotten how to breathe for a hot second. Vi can’t believe she finally gets to call her, hers. Although she loves when Cait does something a little extra, she thinks she looks perfect all the time.

It’s been about 6 months since the war with Noxus and the tragic losses that came with it, and the two of them have worked hard to adjust themselves into a new way of life, and a life with each other. Even though it’s been tough at times, Vi will never get over how much she loves being in Caitlyn’s life, and how lucky she feels to have her. Her blessings throughout life have been few and far in between, so Vi makes sure to savor every last ounce she has now, and she makes it her daily mission to make sure Cait knows she’s her top one.

“Violet, are you speechless?” Caitlyn muses with a half smirk-half smile as she approaches her girlfriend, wrapping her arms around the shorter girl’s waist. Violet can feel her face blushing, one hand nervously rubbing the back of her neck. “W-what? Speechless…noooo…” she rolls her eyes playfully and Caitlyn chuckles.

“Well, if you have nothing to say, our night awaits.” Caitlyn’s hand finds Vi and she starts leading her towards the door before Vi can answer. A knowing smile spreads on Caitlyn’s lips when she feels Vi tug her hand gently, signaling for her to stop. “Cait…” She turns around to face Vi. “…you really do look beautiful tonight.” Vi hums softly, pulling her girlfriend close and pressing a warm loving kiss to the lips that now feel like home.

“And you, my darling Violet, charming as ever, are looking very hot tonight.” The end of her sentence comes out almost in a purr as they pull away. “Oh?” Vi quirks an eyebrow, smirking. “You better show me why later.”

She tugs on Caitlyn’s hand this time, and they finally make their way out the door, into the hall, then out into the quiet streets of the Kiramman’s neighborhood, strolling together in the golden rays of the last sunlight of the day peaking around the buildings.

The two of them had been planning this date night for weeks now. A joint date night, where they each choose a part of it, Caitlyn wanting to show Vi her favorite restaurant in Piltover, and Vi wanting to show Caitlyn around the Lanes—now that it’s becoming a less rough place to be.

Piltover’s Finest walk hand in hand as they make their way towards the first part of their evening, Caitlyn leading Vi through the city streets, conversation flowing with ease. They walk longer than Vi expected and by the time Caitlyn finally pulls Vi to a gentle halt, they’re no longer in extremely high end part of Piltover.

The street they’re standing on appears to be a working class one, with dozens of stores for shopping, restaurants with outdoor seating areas, and little kids running through the crowd of people chatting happily away, their families close on their heels. Vi couldn’t help but smile at the scene before her. The energy was chaotic, but infectious in a good way, making her want to run around like the kids and press her nose against shop windows. Caitlyn watches her take it all in, a soft smile on her own face as she finally gets to show Vi a place that means so much to her.

“Cait, where are we? Gotta be honest this isn’t what I expected when you said you were taking me out to dinner.” Vi chuckled for instead of answering, Caitlyn just smiled wider, gripping her hand tighter as she began to pull Vi through the crowded street. Even with her street skills, Vi struggled to keep up with her girlfriend as they jogged, dodging kids and dogs left and right until Caitlyn skidded to a stop.

They both pause a moment, slightly out of breath and Vi gaped at the storefront before her. “Pizza?” She inquires, looking up at the bright neon sign that pointed down to a small, bustling joint, a strong smell of yeast and various cooked toppings wafting out from the propped open door. “Best in the city.” Caitlyn pulls her inside.

They ended up each getting a few slices to go, Caitlyn insisting they needed to walk around so Vi could see the street lit up at night. “I’ve gotta say Kiramman, this is the best pizza I’ve ever had—not that I’ve had a lot, but still.” Vi spoke through a mouthful of hot cheese as she started wolfing down on her second slice. Caitlyn laughed and handed her a few more napkins.

“My dad brought me here once when I was really young. Only the one time. It was because I begged to join him on a last minute business meeting. It ended up being way too boring and ran much longer than expected. By the time we were on the way home, it was getting dark, and I was a wreck. I gave him every reason to just pick me up and continue marching home, but instead he bought me this pizza and we walked around a while. It was one of the first times I saw so many families together, so many fun looking shops, it was my first time in this part of the city, my parents didn’t often let me leave the few surrounding neighborhoods in our area.” She explained and Vi listened to every word.

“I never told my parents this, but often, when I could, I would sneak here after school, buy a slice and just sit in the window and watch people go by. Even convinced Jayce to accompany me a few times at night so I could see everything lit up like this again. I spent most of my days alone, no siblings, private tutors for school, so I cherished these moments when I could tuck myself into the crowds, be a part of so much light.” She finished and Vi was gazing at her now, the reflection of thousands of twinkling lights reflecting in her soft blue eyes.

“I see what you mean. There’s so much life here, you can feel it. Everyone’s in their own world, but somehow we all fit perfectly into the chaos, creating this atmosphere together.” Vi replies as they keep walking, strolling at a leisurely pace now. “Exactly.” Caitlyn nods, finishing her food and taking Vi’s hand back in her’s.

They walk in a comfortable silence for a bit, letting the energy of everyone around them fill their sense. “We should bring him here next time.” Vi leans over to speak in Caitlyn’s ear to make sure she hears her over the noise. “Huh?” Her brows twist in slight confusion. “Your dad. I bet he’d like to come with us next time.” Vi clarifies.

“On our date?” Caitlyn jokes and Vi bumps their hips together, rolling her eyes. “You know what I mean.” She laughs as they reach the end of the street where the crowd starts to thin and the various bright lights fade to just street lamps. “Ready for round two?” Vi questions and Caitlyn agrees. “We can’t have dinner without dessert.” Vi winks up at Cait as she begins to pull her towards the river, the barrier between Zaun and Piltover.

Once they reach Zaun, still hand in hand, it’s Caitlyn’s turn to follow Vi as she leads her through an intricate dance of twists and turns. They don’t see many others along the way, as Vi had planned out. Luckily for her, some things are still the same and her backwards ways of getting through the streets still simultaneously efficient and much safer than traveling through the main streets.

Even though both cities have been hard at work to make Zaun a more peaceful place, Vi’s not taking any chances since Caitlyn’s with her. She knows without a doubt the Piltie can handle herself if necessary, but she’d rather not them get anywhere close to that point, plus if she’s being honest, Vi likes running around through the Lanes like this. It reminds her of being a kid when she would work her way through the maze of streets, mapping out every route in her head, creating new ones and secret ones each day.

Not much later, Vi leads Caitlyn to a more central street, not as busy as the one in Piltover, and no where near as nice, but it’s special in its own right, and to Vi, it’s absolutely perfect. She’s actually really relieved to see this street stayed the same. So many got destroyed and so many businesses shut down over the years, but as fate would have it, the one place she wanted to bring Cait was still running, as gloriously tacky as ever.

“This isn’t going to be like when we first met right?” Caitlyn asks as she eyes the many strange looking establishments the line the dim street. “If you mean Jericho’s, no don’t worry. Dessert will be perfectly normal and non-fish related.” Vi chortles, amused by how hard Caitlyn is trying to be polite. It’s clear as day to Vi that she still isn’t used to environments like this.

Vi pulls her closer into her side. “Ease up Kiramman, it’s time to embrace the Lanes.” Her voice holds no ridicule, the softness of her tone easing the slight unease in Caitlyn’s shoulders. She relaxes under Vi’s comforting touch and smiles, a slight blush rising in her pale cheeks. They walk until it appears the shops have been left behind them, but Vi keeps going a little further until they reach a small staircase jutting out into the street, the uneven steps leading down to a surprisingly brightly colored door.

Vi leads Caitlyn confidently inside, holding the door for her as she unveils her part of date. “It’s…a candy shop.” Caitlyn takes in the warm tones from the lamps, a stark contrast to the darkness of the street, and she her senses are immediately overwhelmed by a sweet sugary scent that makes her mouth water. Vi smiles at her girlfriend’s surprise.

“Best in all the Lanes.” She mimics Caitlyn’s earlier statement, hands spread out in front of her as if she owned the place. “Get whatever you want, Cupcake. Though if you need help deciding I’ve got some favorites I can steer ya towards.” Vi smiles wide as Caitlyn starts slowly strolling through the large room, taking in all the colors. Candies of all kinds, some she recognizes and some she doesn’t covers ever surface in the place, all circling back around towards the entrance where a small case of larger, finer desserts are displayed by the register.

“Whenever Vander was able to scrape up enough for a special treat, he’d bring us all here. Claggor, Mylo, Powder, Ekko, all of us.” Vi starts explaining her own reason for the chosen spot as she follows Caitlyn around. “When we got older, he let Mylo and Claggor take us when he had to work, but sometimes he’d close up a little early to join. Some of my best, only, good memories are here.”

“It’s wonderful, Violet. I didn’t know there was such a place here. Well to be fair, I really don’t know much about the Lanes anyways.” Caitlyn stops to pick up a small bag of her favorite chocolates and Vi smiles at her choice, reaching to grab another bag of something Caitlyn doesn’t recognize.

“Well good thing you’ve got me to show you where all the best sweets are.” Vi leans in close, wrapping her arms around Caitlyn as she lowers her voice. “Though I can think of something much sweeter, Cupcake.” Her warm breath tickles Caitlyn’s neck and she laughs, pushing Vi away playfully.

After a little more perusing, they pay for their chosen treats and sit down in a little corner of the shop that has sprinkling of tables and chairs, similar to a cafe, though there’s nothing to be served, its simply a spot for people to enjoy their sweets.

They stay here for a long while, talking and munching on chocolate, watching as customers wade in and out, until the owner comes over and alerts them its almost closing time. Wrapping up the rest of their candy, Piltover’s Finest thank the owner and make their way back up the stairs and out to the street where they’re taken by surprise by the heavy rain that’s now falling from dark puffy clouds. They can see others running into stores to get out of the storm.

“Shit.” Vi murmurs as they linger under the awning of the store. “We don’t happen to have any emergency umbrellas do we?” She jokes, knowing the answer even before Caitlyn shakes her head. “Well, we can’t wait it out here. It shouldn’t last too long. I don’t know what normal weather is for you guys up in Piltover, but down here, sudden storms like this are common.” Caitlyn watches as Vi shrugs off her red jacket.

“Here, love.” She motions for Caitlyn to take it and put it over her head to shield her as best as they can from the rain. Caitlyn frowns. “What about you? You’ll get soaked then.” She tries handing it back but Vi only smiles and shakes her head. “Like I said, it’s common. I’m used to it. Spent many hours in the rain by choice as a kid, I’ll be fine. Rather not have you catch a cold or something.” She reassures and steps out into the downpour.

Caitlyn chuckles with a shrug. “If you say so, darling.” She follows, the thick leather jacket actually doing a pretty good job of keeping her dry. She looks at Vi as they start hurrying through the streets, her bright red hair is already glued to her face which is practically dripping with as much water as any one of the clouds. Vi hears her girlfriend murmur something about her being ‘too stubborn for her own good’ as they make their way back home.

By the time they reach their bedroom, Vi is absolutely soaked through to the bone and Caitlyn hums softly, watching Vi shivering as she stands, a puddle of water quickly gathering by her feet. “Hot shower and bed?” Caitlyn tosses Vi’s jacket aside and quickly finds a soft towel to shove into Vi’s hands. “Only if you join me.” Vi smirks through chattering teeth and Caitlyn raises an eyebrow before turning around, knowing Vi is watching and following as she makes her way towards the adjoining bathroom.

After a long hot shower, it was evident they were both tired from the day and decided to just go to bed, so no sooner was Caitlyn helping Vi into some sweatpants and a t shirt was she wrapping her in her arms and pulling the blankets tightly around them as they sink into their cushy bed. The shower had helped and she was no longer uncontrollably shivering, but Vi still help cold, like the chill of the rain had settled its way into every cell in her body.

“Are you warm enough, darling?” Caitlyn murmurs sweetly as Vi tucks her face further into Cait��s neck, throws her leg over her waist, and tries to get as close to her girlfriend as possible. “Not really, I don’t know how I’m still this fucking cold.” Vi complains against her skin. Caitlyn kisses her pink hair with a small chuckle.

Caitlyn get up for just a second, much to Vi’s dismay, but returns with two more blankets to wrap her up in, so Vi doesn’t grumble too much about her momentary absence. “Here, Violet.” Caitlyn tucks them both in again and they cling lovingly to each other, Caitlyn reveling in the comforting feeling of her girlfriend’s body against hers, and Vi doing her best to retain as much heat from Caitlyn as possible.

“Tonight was really fun.” Vi whispers after a while, unable to fall asleep. Caitlyn, often taking much longer than Vi to fall asleep, is still awake too. “It was, love. Thank you for letting me share more of myself to you, and thank you for doing the same.” She murmurs and Vi smiles at the sound of Cait’s sleepy sounding voice. “Anytime, Cupcake. Let’s do it more often, because you know I’m still thinking about that pizza…” Vi presses a kiss to Caitlyn’s collar bone, and the last thing she hears before falling asleep is Vi chuckling at her own musings.

Although she had fallen asleep cold, it was only a few hours later that Vi’s body takes a turn, becoming a radiator of heat. Turns out the rain got one of them sick after all. Still asleep, deep in a fevered slumber, Vi subconsciously curls away from Caitlyn, the shift in position and movement of the blankets causing the latter to stir awake.

At first she just attempts to go back to sleep, used to Vi moving around a lot in her sleep, but Caitlyn soon notices an uncomfortable heat lingering under the blankets. She rolls over to find Vi, curled into herself, clutching the blankets tightly to her chest, a restless furrow etched into her brows. Even in the dark, Caitlyn can see a thin sheen of sweat coating the Zaunite’s face and a deep pink flush strewn across her cheeks.

She frowns, her own brows knitting together as worry bubbles in her chest. She sits up slightly, reaching to place the back of her hand gently to Vi’s forehead, she gasps slightly at the amount of heat she feels. “Oh darling.” She sighs, cupping her cool hand to Vi’s cheek, momentarily unsure of what to do. Should she let Vi sleep? Or wake her get some medicine in her?

The decision is made for her when Vi stirs and lets out a sleepy groan. The soothingly cool sensation of Caitlyn’s hand against her face pulling her from her slumber. “huh…wha?” Vi slurs feverishly, her eyes fluttering open for a moment or two before growing too heavy and closing again.

“Violet? Vi honey, you’re sick, love.” Caitlyn murmurs gently to help orient her, her thumb softly stroking Vi’s cheek, her hand having never left its position. “oh, well, go back to ‘sleep, ‘m okay.” Is all Vi mumbles with a heavy sigh.

“So stubborn.” Caitlyn whispers so softly that Vi doesn’t seem to hear. “No way, darling. I’m going to take care of you, okay? You gave me your jacket and now look at you.” Caitlyn fusses, a bit of guilt rising in her even though Vi had made her decision and one of them was going to get soaked either way. “Better me than you.” Vi murmurs back and Caitlyn can’t believe her ridiculous girlfriend.

With a sympathetic hum, Caitlyn makes her way out of bed, hearing Vi let out a single groan, but doesn’t hear any more protests as the sick girl is too out of it to really notice her absence.

“Open your mouth.” Vi hears the words distantly, but she does and Caitlyn gently places the thermometer under her tongue. “Close and hold for a moment.” She instructs softly, one hand holding the thermometer steady, the other returning to Vi’s cheek, her thumb brushing lightly against her hot skin.

Vi’s silver eyes flutter open and she gazes hazily up at her girlfriend as they both wait for the small beep. “When I said you looked hot earlier, this is not what I meant.” Caitlyn frowns deeply at the high number shown on the tool.

Vi groans softly as she moves to sit up, Caitlyn immediately helping to ease her up against the plush pillows. She brushes Vi’s sweaty hair away from her face so she can see her more clearly. Vi offers Cait a small smile, trying to ease the worry she can see in her ocean eyes. “Don’ worry, cupcake, I always run hot, ‘member?” She reassures and Caitlyn’s face softens a little, though her worry stays.

“I know, Violet. I just hate that you feel so miserable…here drink some water, it’ll help.” She remembers that she’d grabbed a fresh cup of cool water and holds it gently to Vi’s plump lips. She drinks more than half, surprising both of them at how thirsty she is. But Caitlyn doesn’t set the cup down, instead, offering Vi a couple small fever-reducing pills which she begrudgingly takes with another gulp of water.

“Let’s get you back to bed, hmm? You look exhausted, love.” Caitlyn hums and Vi nods, the two of them finding their way back to laying cozily under the blankets, though Caitlyn made sure to toss a couple of the extra ones off. She doesn’t want Vi overheating any more than she already is. Vi clings to Caitlyn, burying her face in her chest with a noise somewhere between a whine and a groan.

“Cait?” She whispers a moment later, her voice uncharacteristically small as she feels her girlfriend’s gentle touch, soothing hands running along her back. “Yes, darling?” Caitlyn murmurs in return. “I-I don’t feel good.” Vi grumbles with a whine.

“I know, Vi. Just try and rest. I’ll be here.” She promises, one hand remaining on her back, the other moving to run through her damp hair. She holds her a touch closer and Vi hums contentedly. “mmkay.” She presses a featherlight kiss to the closest bit of bare skin she can reach on her girlfriend, and moments later her fevered mind is drifting off to sleep, knowing she’ll probably wake up feeling even crappier, but that she’ll be okay, because she has Caitlyn.

“Sleep well, my darling Violet.” Caitlyn whispers with a kiss to her forehead before promptly following her to sleep, making a promise to herself that from now on, anytime they leave the house, especially if they’re going to Zaun, Caitlyn will make sure to have an umbrella tucked away somewhere in her pockets or bags, just in case.

[danadiadea]

I am pretty sure Severus didn't see Lily's face "twitching"? I mean, he was hanging upside down with his cloak covering his face, so it was not about that. I think it was mostly about James's attempt to emasculate him because he was defended "by a girl" (didn't they start calling him Sn*velus because Lily brought him out of conflict in the train, huh? i'm telling you, james potter loooves women), and quite possibly about the rejection of his friendship with a muggleborn he encountered in Slytherin, but also about the way Lily defended him.

I don't think Lily's attempts in defence were flirty (even though Rowling clearly assumes they are and fuck that sick misogynistic idea of romance), but they truly were half-hearted. I would have understood if Lily hadn't moved on to more serious actions, because her character was described as calm, gentle and not inclined to fight, but this is not the case for Lily. She chose to interfere, but not to stop them.If, while I was being physically and/or sexually assaulted, my friend instead of calling authorities (teachers) for help, disarming the aggressor, or at least helping me get back MY weapon, had just stood there and verbally shit on the abuser while they continued to endanger and assault me, I wouldn't have gone to apologize to them ever, I would actually expect apologies. Slurs are harmful, but if Severus had called Lily a fucker, I would have no complaints against him.

Lily had a solid right to end their friendship with Severus, of course, but that's not the same as leaving one alone when they are defenseless in front of a crowd of people who are determined to cause them serious harm. If Lily had made sure that nothing was threatening Sev's physical safety and then called him a complete idiot and ended their friendship, I would have no complaints against her either. I don't care if you are friends or not, I wouldn't leave the biggest scumbag in the world in a situation like that.

It seems to me that most of the hate that is Lily gets exists because she was extremely idealized (in quite a few parts of the fandom and in the books and the films and rowling interviews), and now this is the backlash. She actually is just a fifteen-year-old girl, she doesn't have to possess exceptional empathy, be extremely selfless or understanding beyond average. She wasn't an ideal friend to Severus, and Severus wasn't an ideal friend to her, because they were just messy teenagers in difficult circumstances. I mean, when Voldemort came to her house to kill her family, she literally started blocking up the door with boxes and a chair! Obviously, she's still just a teenager in a way. But when she is painted as an absolute saint, whose choices are the measure of moral goodness and impeccable logic, a lot of people look at this and see the incongruity and become pissy.

Oh, and regarding the werewolf prank, Lily didn't know what exactly had been that danger to Severus' life or how serious the situation was, because he couldn't tell her. Yes, she gaslighted him about his traumatic experiences, but she simply couldn't understand what Severus is going through, not only because she has not yet fully developed empathy and a lot of life experience, but also because Severus himself speaks sparingly about his problems, which we see when he talks about his father for example. Sev is admittedly not good in being vulnerable, and the environment didn't help. It's not Lily's fault that she can't fully understand him, nor is it Severus' fault.

However, I understand the fandom's desire for their favorite character to have a more reliable and supportive "perfect" friend to handle all his traumas, because can't we have that unrealistic shit at least in fiction?

for all that us snape fans say how we love his character because he is flawed and complex, i find it disappointing how many of us can't extend that line of thinking towards lily, while pretending that young severus was entirely innocent. i've noticed this a lot recently and it's been bothering me quite a bit so i've felt the need to defend lily, or to be exact, analyse the downfall of their relationship without basically giving her all the blame and instead looking at both characters and especially lily more critically.

so. let's talk about the conversation between her and severus after the werewolf prank. some snape fans harshly criticise her in this scene because she insists that james saved severus and doesn't acknowledge how serious this prank was, while insisting that at least the marauders don't use dark magic.

and i agree that she should have been more on severus' side in this case. after all he could have died or gotten seriously injured, turned into a werewolf etc and she downplays the severity of the situation and generally doesn't acknowledge how the marauders bullied severus very much. so yes, she could have been a better friend here.

but at the same time, from her perspective, she was already noticing that severus was spending more time with his housemates, all of them aspiring death eaters, how he had always looked up to lucius and was slowly heading down that same path. how he didn't truly disapprove of his housemates disgusting actions towards muggleborns - her own kind. even though it's not entirely logical, since we see through the marauders that light magic can be used to do harm aswell, this also explains her dislike of dark arts, which these (aspiring) death eaters all were fond of and using to do awful things to her friends (and hogwarts also pretty much teaches that dark magic is pure evil). by this point she had most likely also experienced discrimination at hogwarts for being muggleborn. she knew the situation in the wizarding world wasn't favourable for her, and now her best friend was starting to agree with those people?

the next notable event was of course snapes worst memory (sigh, here i go talking about it for the millionth time). and i really don't like how some people on our side of the fandom talk about lily in this scene (of course, this is not all of us).

first of all we saw that she initially smiled upon seeing severus be bullied, and yes, this was honestly quite disgusting. we know that severus saw this and was rightfull hurt, and this very well could be the reason why he snapped at her. but that is her only 'crime' in this scene. because she then does quickly turn against james and this entire crowd and defends severus. only for james to insult and threaten her, and severus to call her a 'filthy little mudblood'.

now, people say she should have done more to defend severus, that her attempt was quite half-hearted. i don't know. maybe she could have done more, but she did tell the marauders to stop, you can't say she didn't try. some say she should have hexed james herself or bring up her prefect role (although i'm not sure it's confirmed she was one at this time). but say she was a prefect, her job would be to stop fighting, which she tried to do, not to get involved in fights herself. and you can tell that james is entirely dismissive of her and clearly won't let her stop him no matter what, even threatening her in the process. lily also genuinely seems to still hate him at this point in time, she is described to have been disgusted with him to the point where even harry questions his parents marriage. so i don't believe it's fair to say she was just 'flirting' with james here.

furthermore, people believe she should have forgiven severus for being called a mudblood. i used to agree that it wasn't that serious, but i feel differently now. because it wasn't just a word, it wasn't a one time mistake or slip up or even the first time she noticed that he was slowly turning into a future death eater. that's why i brought up their conversation after the prank. lily knows that severus' descend into the death eaters arms had been going on for months, years even. being called - not even just mudblood, but hearing the words "i don't need help from a filthy little mudblood like her" out of the mouth of her former best friend was just the final nail in the coffin. it was her confirmation that severus was finally too far down that road, and she, as a muggleborn, could no longer justify surrounding herself with him. so she abandons him at the scene, and i can't blame her one bit.

of course this post is not meant to be severus bashing in any way, he is and always will be my favorite character, but i don't enjoy pretending he was completely innocent, even his younger self. this is also not to excuse the marauders, as their bullying never had anything to do with severus possibly being a death eater and was really just for fun and because they could, and because he was an easy victim. but i truly believe that lily deserves some grace and also to be analysed as a complex character like severus, rather than painting her as one dimensional, either fully good or fully bad.

severus becoming a death eater is the tragic result of his background and surroundings, and when we analyse him we factor all of this in. lily was wealthier, had a better family, was pretty, smart and popular and had a good support system in and out of hogwarts. she couldn't understand why severus made the choices he did. maybe as an adult she would have looked back and understood it all better. but as it was, she was just a teenage girl watching her best friend turn against people like her and not knowing what to do about that. and what's also important to me to point out is that it was not her job to try and stop this, to try and fix him or whatever. it was first and foremost the adults in severus' life who failed him over and over again, not lily.

finally a lot of us can't understand how lily ended up marrying her former friends abuser and use this as an argument against her, but i honestly don't want to go too deep into this topic. i personally strongly dislike this relationship, because james treated lily herself like shit too, aswell as other people. we have to believe that he truly did change, even if there is not much to prove this. even if he did, i personally wouldn't have been able to forgive him. but i don't believe that marrying james makes lily a bad person by extension or anything. ultimately, if she was able to find happiness, i'm happy for her.