#it's okay to be happy with things we've made

[itadooori]

my slightly cohesive squid game s3 thoughts (SPOILERS)

obligatory disclaimer that i am NOT trying to tell anyone that they're stupid or illiterate if they don't agree with this. you're more than entitled to your own feelings about s3, these just happen to be mine. i'm not looking to fight with anyone, i just thought i'd share some things that may help someone come to peace with season three a little more. buckle up folks this is a YAPFEST

To preface this, I want to say that whenever I interact with a series and it makes a decision I don't like and/or don't understand, I try my hardest to figure out why it's there. This is essentially what this post is: me figuring out why the things that happened in squid game s3 happened. Some of the things still bother me despite the reasons I've seen, and some things I've made a bit of peace with.

Over the weekend I've been formulating my thoughts about s3 and the finale. I also read some interviews explaining certain choices, as well as posts from people who liked the ending/the season and people who disliked the ending/the season. I wanted to give myself a bit of time to post about this with a clearer head, and also wanted to try to understand the message HDH was trying to send.

I've given myself some time to process Gi-hun's death, and I think I'm actually okay with it? I've always kept his death as a real possibility in mind, so the fact he died didn't shock me, but did devastate me as he is my favorite character. I honestly loved the journey that Gi-hun's character went through this season as a whole, it was so full of grief and despair and was extremely heart-wrenching.

Some posts that helped ease my mind a bit about Gi-hun's choice (as well as some of the finale as a whole) are this and this.

(I also found this post to be interesting and it opened my mind up to some deeper thinking, so I'd give it a look if you're interested!)

Now. I want to admit: I am not as unhappy with the ending as much as I initially was. After reading some of HDH's words and other peoples' analysis on the ending, I'm starting to understand the angle it's going for, and I do appreciate it.

Obviously, my critiques haven't vanished -- I have my fair share of things I'm not happy about. I wish that In-ho had a bit more screen-time. I heavily dislike how Jun-ho's character was handled in s3. I also think that the pacing was off in places, notably in the latter half of the season. And of course, I do wish that the reveal scene had a bit More to it.

Also I just dislike the idea of an American spinoff so I was bound to dislike that last scene LMAO but that seems more like Netflix meddling than anything HDH wanted.

HOWEVER, there were also several things this season that did hit me very hard, and that I hold close to my heart. Many, many people have brought up (and rightfully criticized) the things I mentioned above, and I feel that elaborating on those points would be regurgitating what's already out there. So I'll spend some time talking about the things I DID enjoy in s3:

• IDK if this is a hot take or not, but I really loved the Dae-ho and Gi-hun stuff. It was so fucking dark and the furthest we've ever seen Gi-hun fall and I enjoyed every second of it. I don't think Gi-hun was simply mad at Dae-ho about the ammo; that was only part of it. Dae-ho I think on a narrative level served as Gi-hun's internal monologue towards himself, and I think this is backed up by the fact Seon-nyeo tells him that killing Dae-ho will clear his bad karma. And in that altered state of mind, induced by a psychotic break, he believed that. Obviously, when he killed Dae-ho that caused some sort of Realization, which is why he switches from "it's your fault" to "it's my fault" as he attempts suicide again. Also, on the topic of Dae-ho, if you're upset about the military reveal, I'd recommend reading this post because Netflix fucked up the subtitles and I think the more accurate translation falls more in line with his character.

• As a trans person, I honestly liked how Hyun-ju's death was handled. Her death did not strike me as uniquely gore-y or horrible, nor was it tied to her transness. It was tied to her core traits of kindness and commitment to other people. Her death, imo, continued to humanize her. I hope that her existence helped open up some peoples' minds.

• I loved the callbacks to Sae-byeok. First, the more subtle one of Gi-hun telling Geum-ja that he's "not that kind of person" just hit me like a TRAIN. I teared up. And then when Gi-hun had an outright flashback to Sae-byeok when he once again thought about killing someone in their sleep, I actually bawled.

• The entire Gi-hun/In-ho flashback sequence with the dagger. I have no notes. That was beautifully done and one of the best scenes in the entire season imo.

• MIN-SU'S ENTIRE JOURNEY IN S3 WAS REALLY COMPELLING TO ME?? I already really liked him before, but I was absolutely enamored by what they did with him. The hallucinations were genuinely terrifying, and him finally taking Se-mi's hand in death actually made me tear up. I love that lil guy. He straight up went thru every circle of hell.

• Geum-ja's speech to Gi-hun was very very touching. Both of these characters just went through the worst day Ever and yet she still shows him kindness and a reason to keep going. I love all the subtle expressions LJJ displays in this scene too.

• I liked that No-eul got a good ending. She deserved it. I'm glad that she gets to reunite with her daughter, a reflection of something Gi-hun didn't get to do.

• The tragedy between Geum-ja and Yong-sik....goddddddddd I wept.

• Seeing Gi-hun carrying around Jun-hee's baby was like cocomelon to me. The way he smiled at her had me sooo weak I love him so much.

• Woo-seok's little side plot was fun and I liked seeing him get some spotlight.

• Jun-ho not wanting to become a cop again LMFAO I loved that the story still sticks to its dislike of cops and the justice system.

• Of course, as always, the cast's acting was absolutely phenomenal. Even for scenes I don't like, the actors did the best that they could and I think they deserve recognition for that.

There are some more things I could list, but this post is getting long enough lmfaoo

Now, I believe that my feelings on season three are more complex than they were initially. I feel a little isolated from the majority of the fandom right now because while I have my issues, I don't Hate it. Far from it, honestly. It feels more like a "i enjoy many things about this, and i understand and appreciate the message being sent, i just wish that some of it was done Better" type thing.

I've also been looking at squid game, especially season three, similarly to how I'd look at a Greek tragedy. Squid game shares a lot of key elements you see in them: dramatic irony, hubris, hamartia (a fatal flaw or lapse in judgement leading to a character's downfall), peripeteia (a sudden reversal of circumstances), catharsis (emotional release), and moral dilemmas. The themes also overlap, and I'm reminded of tragedies like Electra. And I think that some of s3's choices make a little bit of sense if you see the story as emulating a Greek tragedy; I'm not saying you have to like it, but for me it made me more understanding of the message being conveyed.

Finally, I want to say that my love for squid game hasn't diminished at all, and I won't be leaving the fandom any time soon. Even with my complicated feelings about s3, I still think s1 and s2 are incredible and it's worth sticking around even just for them.

TLDR; my thoughts are still complicated, but i don't think the season is as bad as i initially thought

[faunandfloraas]

Birth date analysis // Seungmin - September 22nd: The Day of Restless Drive.

September 22 - Virgo/Libra

The Day Of Restless Drive

Those born on September 22 have a restless drive. Usually they bring the one they are working on to completion only to immediately set out on a new one without rest. They are also capable of handling several projects at the same time. Those born on this day have a low boredom threshold, and consequently demand challenging people and situations. They can be outgoing and dynamic types at one time, and solitary and unapproachable at another. In either case, their strong character is unmistakable.

Often September 22 people oscillate between an offensive and defensive posture. In one sense, such postures may be one and the same since a good offense is the best defense and vice-versa. Whether in a broad social context or on a personal level, the issues and ideas those born on this day are most often concerned with involve fairness and equality. In general matters pertaining to the delegation and exercise of power. In putting forth their arguments, they can be very ironic, witty and outright funny. Their humor, however, is not for everyone as it is liable to be off-beat, sardonic, perhaps even macabre.

Those born on September 22 can hide a warm heart under a forbidding exterior, but generally will only open up to people whom they deeply trust and value. Even then they may find it difficult to open all the way, principally because their orientation is highly realistic and the ironies of life all too visible to them. This day carries insight and clarity of vision both literal and figurative. September 22 people are excellent judges of character, and capable of sizing people up very quickly. Those few friends whom they allow into their inner sanctum they value most highly, usually for life.

September 22 people can often have a greater effect on those around them than they realize, and indeed can register a high degree of shock value. Because of their often disturbing impact, they should seek to be more aware of their effect on others, both friends and foes alike. True warriors in the battle of life, they must take stock of their armaments and defenses, using them judiciously and effectively, and avoid isolating and alienating themselves.

Strengths:

Individual

Perceptive

Well-directed

Weaknesses:

Guarded

Acerbic

Dark

[swan2swan]

I don't know if Kausar was ever actually in the closet during her career, but it's good to see her openly acknowledging who she is, and the joy that she feels from being able to bring queer characters to life.

[whisp3roftheheart]

I really am the most embarrassing person when I like someone lmao

[thebluebygracieabrams]

reread tsoa after years and it made me cry "name one hero who was happy" "i can't" "you can't" "i will be the first. swear it" "why me?" "because you're the reason"

[nostalgicfun]

My boyfriend was on the phone with his dad yesterday so I went out to sit on the patio to pet the geese and play on my phone for a bit, and while out there I came across a comic of baby Grimace (yes, that Grimace) being sad because everyone hated his milkshake and saying he wished he never had a birthday. Then there was a follow up where tons of people had commented saying they loved the shake and wished Grimace a happy birthday, and that made him happy again.

This, for whatever reason, emotionally devastated me. I was sobbing. I was ugly crying so bad that even the geese waddled away side-eyeing me.

After a while my bf yelled from inside, "Okay, you ready for dinner?" and I was forced to accept I had to go back in the house a defeated sniffly little wreck.

My boyfriend, who has only ever seen me cry once in the whole year we've been together, looked horrorstruck. He assumed the worst. Someone got hurt. Something was wrong with my family. Someone was mean to me (a cardinal sin). The panic that washed over his face was unparalleled.

He, upon seeing me, (somewhat theatrically) rushed over and grabbed me by the shoulders. "What's wrong, what happened? Are you okay?" he asked, frantic. "What is it?"

I realized how ridiculous the whole situation was and just shook my head.

He was growing more panicked. "What is it? Why are you crying?"

I then had to stand there and look him, this completely normal human being, in the eyes, and blurt out "Grimace"

Confused silence followed.

"....Grimace?"

I nodded.

"...The McDonalds guy...thing?"

I nodded.

"What...what did...Grimace...do to you?"

I then tearfully recounted the silly internet comic that had absolutely broken my heart. And this poor guy--this poor, wonderfully sweet, nice, patient guy--kindly stood there trying to figure out how to comfort me that Grimace was not, in fact, sad. (Nevermind that he's a corporate mascot who isn't real)

This morning my phone rang just after 5am. It was my boyfriend. It was my turn to panic, to assume the worst.

I didn't even have time to say hello before he started excitedly yelling, "Look at the TikTok I just sent you! Look! Open it!"

Confused and not entirely convinced I wasn't still asleep, I opened the TikTok.

An official release from McDonalds confirming Grimace (who still isn't real) did, in fact, feel special on his birthday.

[parfaitblogs]

state of grace ❀ s. reid x reader

in which your cat has taken liking to your friend with benefits, and you begin to battle with the consequential feelings. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff (18+ for suggestive content) tags: established friends with benefits. reader has a cat. your cat likes him more than you :(  avoidant!reader for like a teensie second. it's okay happy ending. the happiest possible ending actually. fade to black. word count: 1.9k a/n: sometimes the most beautiful poetry can be about simple things. like a cat. :) im a dog person. idk why i wrote this.

Seventeen times.

That is how many times Spencer Reid had found residence at your apartment in the past month alone, taking up the space on the other side of your bed. Thirteen of those times he had stayed the night. Six of those times, he had come for sex. The other eleven? He had come because you needed a friend. 

Or, rather, your cat did. 

You had discovered you weren't any more complex than your average man, at the end of the day. Human beings are at their core created to love and be loved, and by extension, to want and be wanted. You wanted Spencer, and you were wanted by Spencer. For both your friendship, and the intimacy your relationship provided. 

But you did not love him, and he did not love you. 

Cat's are anything but fickle creatures. A lot of your best friendships were centred around whether or not your cat developed a liking to the person or not. Oftentimes, your fleeting relationships came down to the odd sixth sense the animal had for disliking the worst people. That, and your one night stands were never a crowd favourite within the walls of your apartment. And yet; Spencer Reid. 

He was nothing short of charming. In a sort of dorky way, yes. But whatever socially romantic skills he lacked, he most certainly made up for by giving you the best of just about everything in bed. A small part of you wants to claim it's human instinct to know how to worship the person meant for you, but the logical reason is probably his eidetic memory knowing exactly what he's doing after a singular trial run. Entertaining the thought of being his soulmate was not a wise choice.

He most certainly was your cat's, though. The Ragdoll always jumping down to greet him the second he stepped foot in your apartment, usually resulting in the break of a kiss and a five minute intermission before the two of you could do anything. 

At first, it was an inconvenience. Your cat had never taken such a liking to a person you'd brought home before, and it was jarring to watch a man you were partially trying to undress, stop everything to pet your cat. Now, it is simply endearing. You've stopped trying to steal Spencer's attention before the cat does, and you've come to the conclusion that Spencer's priority list will always be the feline, then you. 

Today was, seemingly, no different. Despite the dull ache between your legs and the fact that this visit had started as something as obscene as Spencer calling from his work bathroom to ask if he could come over after for he was, and you quote, in dire need to touch you (among many other things), whatever those needs were, were put on hold. 

You smile regardless, leaning against the edge of your couch as he crouches down to meet Po — yes, like the panda — his hand immediately reaching out for the cat to run his head along. 

Spencer's head lifts to look at you. "Morgan thinks Po isn't a real cat, and we've just got a name for your—um—" his brain catches up to his mouth mid sentence, and he's stammering his way to silence. 

"Please tell me you defended my cat's honour," you retort.

"I did! I even showed him the photo I took of him while you were in the shower last week. He thinks it's a different person's cat."

You shake your head in disapproval. "Unbelievable. Your coworker thinks we've named my pussy."

"That's just Morgan."

"I wish Po could speak English. Then he could hear this nonsense, and stop loving you more than me," you grumble, and Spencer's lips twitch up into a smile, as he situates himself on the floor, the cat climbing into his lap.

"Actually, he technically can. Cat's can understand up to thirty-five words in whatever language you train them in. Also, when they meow, they begin trying to mimic the sound of certain human words. It's their vocal tract that prevents them from literally speaking English," he explains.

But, you're too invested in the way his long fingers are delicately running through the cat's hair, to both respond, and really pay any attention at all.

You had had fleeting thoughts about real feelings for Spencer two months ago. Brushing them off as loneliness and your need to satiate the hopeless romantic within you, you'd forgotten about it up until this recent week.

He'd been over every single day, sometimes for sex, oftentimes for a movie and dinner (which was usually a bowl of pasta you had overestimated while cooking). And every single time, you'd developed an overwhelming anxious pit in your stomach when watching him interact with Po, your heart fluttering the entire time, mind running rampant on domestic thoughts you should be squashing. 

Should be, but weren't. 

You'd tried to put it down to the motherly instinct you had over the animal. Seeing somebody else treat him with as much love and care as you did was endearing — it wasn't a Spencer Reid specific trait. Yet, here you were. 

"I feel like the benefits of this relationship have changed," you say, seating yourself in front of Spencer on the floor, Po lifting his head to look at the person behind the sudden movement, before he let it rest back on Spencer's thigh. 

"To what?"

"My cat," you huff, and Spencer laughs.

"He is my favourite benefit thus far," he muses. 

"The feeling is definitely mutual," you nod your head to Po, whose eyes were now shut, seemingly quite comfortable disregarding all your personal plans and taking Spencer's attention.

"Animals don't usually like me," he comments. "I don't know why Po is different."

Oh, you had a few ideas why.

"Maybe he's exercising the keep your enemies closer life motto," you offer, and Spencer's eyebrows shoot up in faux offence. 

"This is unadulterated love," he protests. "He does not think of me as an enemy."

"That's what he wants you to believe," you hum, pushing yourself up on your legs. "Well, since plans have been rudely interrupted, do you want some dinner?" 

"Sure," he answers, though his attention is back on Po. Clearly so, for he says, "I'll get to our original plans after we eat, don't worry," almost absentmindedly.

It's the kind of thing that makes you forget you're in the room with the dictionary definition of a nerd. You know it's only because sometimes he says what he is thinking without thinking. It doesn't do anything to help the ongoing internal battle about your feelings for him. 

Or maybe he does know exactly what he's doing.

"You should get a cat," you say, heading into your kitchen to find something for the two of you to eat. "You seem to like them enough."

"Why? I have yours."

"I'm not going to be around forever," you reply, unthinking. "I mean, one day we're gonna have to end this because the other has found someone they want to be with. Properly. It wouldn't be fair to keep a friendship."

He falls silent, and when you lift your head, you see he's staring at you with an almost confused frown on his face, which triggers your own confusion to appear. His scratching of Po's head has been interrupted, and you're starting to question what was wrong about what you had said. 

Sure, you're pretty sure you have feelings for him, but as far as you knew, they were one sided. Right?

"I didn't—I thought—" he cuts himself off, takes a deep breath, then continues. "I thought that had changed this past month."

"What do you mean?"

"I just—I've been here for things other than sex a lot. I thought you knew I liked you, and you were subtly trying to tell me you liked me too. I'm starting to sense I misread that."

For a profiler, he was incredibly awful at reading you. 

"Yeah..." You slowly nod your head, but it's the deepening of his frown that has you rushing to add, "I mean, I—I do. Like you. I'm kind of embarrassed that was obvious. But I didn't think you liked me outside of having sex with me. I wasn't trying to communicate my feelings. I was trying to hide them."

"Oh," he falls silent again. "So the times I’ve been here in the past month weren’t makeshift dates?"

"They weren't intended that way..." you trail off. "Did you see them as dates?"

"Kind of, I guess," he's back to running his fingers through Po's fur, just to keep his anxious hands busy. "They don't have to be, if you don't want them to. I just thought this feeling was mutual and we were... I guess, dating."

"The feeling is mutual," you quickly correct him. "I know that now. I didn't think we were dating because I didn't think you liked me back. Changing our relationship kind of needs to be a conversation."

"Right," he breathes out, an awkward smile painting his lips. "Is this the conversation, then?"

"I guess?"

"So now we're dating."

"If that's what you want," you nod, head feeling a little fuzzy.

"Is it what you want?" he presses. Always the gentleman.

"Maybe," you muse, leaning forwards against the kitchen countertop. 

He's watching you, and for a second you let the silence fall over you, fearful that you've just discouraged him enough to ruin things between you. He carefully takes Po off his lap, the cat running into your room the second his paws hit the hardwood floor, and he's standing up to move over to you. 

"I don't like maybe," he frowns. "Yes or no?"

You blink, realising he was evidently too anxious of your genuine response to have any recognition to your poor attempt of a joke. 

"Yes, Spencer. That's what I want," you're breathless as you speak, and you're thankful for the relieved smile that stretches across his lips.

"That's what I want too," he answers. 

"Yeah, I figured." Your second attempt at a tease lands, and he huffs a small laugh, which warms your heart. "Do you still want dinner?"

He had somehow gotten closer to you throughout the awkward enough conversation, and he was sliding his arms around your waist. Something he had done many times before, yes, and yet this time it was feeling much more intimate, and your heart was thrumming against your chest a little harder than usual. 

"Maybe it can wait?" he offers, ducking his head down, lips ghosting over your own. "I don't have a bothersome cat keeping me preoccupied from you, now."

Despite yourself, you poke a finger into his chest and say, "Don't insult Po."

"I'm not. Just merely stating an obvious fact."

"I'll call him back in here to preoccupy me."

"He has selective hearing. And he likes me more than you."

Your lips drop into a frown, lower lip jutting out, and Spencer is quick to try and kiss it off within seconds of noticing it. 

"I'm sorry. That was mean. I promise he doesn't like me more than you," he says, though his voice is too amused to be entirely sincere. 

"That was mean," you agree with a firm nod. "You're very mean to me, Spencer Reid."

"I know, I'm awful. Can I make it up to you, sweet girl?"

Well, when he asks you like that.

"Mm..." you hesitate, but he's already guiding you around, walking you backwards, through your apartment and towards your bedroom. "Yeah, I guess so."

Hands that were around your waist hike your shirt up, his lips still kissing against your skin despite the intense multitasking he was forcing upon the two of you.

"Thank you."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

ragatha is NOT abstracting* and i will bury myself six foot under that hill

* well , i don't think she'll FULLY abstract . _____

i know this may be shocking coming from Me , the ragatha angst enjoyer , who made an entire au where she's having a bad day 24/7 . i truly , do not believe that ragatha's going to get killed off . just . hear me out . sit down on this chair .

it's not even that she's my favorite character and i don't want her to die . the opposite , actually , i eat ragatha abstraction fanfics up . my problems are more ... well , it lies more on the writing .

first of all , let's remember what tadc is for a second ; it's a tonally hopeful show with messages about community and not being truly alone . even in episode 5 , where ragatha Goes Through It , it has a glimmer of hope through jax — where he finds a friend in pomni .

it's why i truly believe she'll have some form of positive development , because if Jax , the character that gooseworx said who's Most deserved to be stuck in the circus , can be happy ... then why couldn't ragatha ?

also . i Love assholes with repressed trauma as much as the next guy , but it'll be weird to make the guy who's been antagonistic to most of the cast thus far find more happiness than ..... the clearly-traumatized woman ...........

when you write a story with mentally ill characters and a hopeful message ... what does it say when you kill off one of them ? what does it say to the audience that relates to that character ? here's a hint — stuff that i would find IFFY to put in your show .

obviously , you can do literally anything as a writer , but picture this ; imagine setting up a character like ragatha . someone who has gone through abuse and a lot of trauma . desperate for a community to the point she grasps for any scraps of validation she gets . you put her in a show where every character find some form of hope in the situation they're in . she has shown herself to harbor some form of self-loathing .

by that point , you should see my problem with killing her off . once more : if she dies , what does it say to the audience who relates to that character ?

and now for my next question — what would it add to the show ? what message does it send and how does it add to the theme ? because ... any of the answers to those questions i can think of are NOT good answers considering the last paragraphs .

" it'll show that people truly cares even when you're gone " we'll have episode 2 again , but this time at the cost of a character we've gotten to know for the last five episodes . it'll make ragatha's time in the show a Total Waste . like cool , all she's been set up for the last five episodes is to Die ...

i sure do hope we don't have another dead character who tells the same message of people caring about you when you're gone and also had an entire funeral scene which will make all of this build-up so redundant — oh wait his name is kaufmo .

at that point you could just remove her and put kaufmo in her place , because it's just the Same Message being told . it'll be impactful to see a main character dying ... if that character isn't going to essentially make all of their scenes redundant in hindsight .

" it'll give the cast character development " but not ragatha ?? i will be real with you i will be so Mad if ragatha gets killed off as a catalyst for jax to have an epiphany or character development . like genuinely that would make me instantly drop the show , do Not get me started .

even then , the thing that's going on with ragatha thus far is her thinking nobody cares for her despite that it's the Opposite . by giving the other characters development instead of her in Her Own Arc is Terrible Writing and i'm not going to budge on that .

" it'll mark a tonal shift " an answer i'm slightly okay with , but let's take the above paragraphs again — it'll be iffy nonetheless . do i Love the idea of an unsatisfying character arc where it suddenly ends , therefore breaking the formula that's been set since the beginning ? yes ! would i love it in this specific case considering the context of the show and its themes ? very much Not !

i know these arguments are more of an opinionated , ' think of how that'll work into the story ' rather than actual proof , but when it comes to making predictions , the tadc fandom doesn't really stop and think about how it adds to a character or story beyond It'll Be Shocking . for this theory specifically , i can't see a Good narrative reason to kill off ragatha without stepping on at least one land mine . as someone familiar with writing stories with mentally ill characters — it'll get Weird quick !

do i accept that there could be a Tiny possibility that ragatha Does abstract ? absolutely . i do trust gooseworx's ability as a writer enough to Maybe make this sting less when it actually does happen , but i'll very much criticize it .

so ! i don't think she Wouldn't abstract 100% though . because by this point it's inevitable that she'll sink into the darkness in some way . keep in mind that Barely Anything goes right for this girl . i don't think she'll die , but a very public mental breakdown is inevitable . at most , i see a fake-out abstraction . you know . one where she gets pulled out of it at the last second . just to scare the fans .

personally , do you know what would be more impactful than a death ? a character that fully believes she'll die alone and unloved being proven Wrong . episode 5 has shown how the other characters Care for her . imagine her spiraling and thinking that nobody cares if she abstracts , only to realize that there are people by her side . shit that would actually make me cry , i'm not gonna lie .

she will get a BIG group hug and she'll cry and i would also cry and we crew and we crode and i don't know maybe i'll be wrong Shrugs let's see this post age like milk LOL

[ventbloglite]

One of the other issues I have with 'men are happier/better when they embrace femininity, being feminine is freeing for everyone' is that the standards for what count as feminine to begin with are so entrenched in misogyny and toxic masculinity that we fail to realise that some of what we deem 'feminine' is just...average things everyone can experience that has nothing to do with gender (feeling emotions, enjoying soft physical touch like cuddling) or could have nothing to do with gender if society loosened up and thought logically for a moment (wearing certain colours).

Like, the bar is just so fucking low tbh.

We have the evidence that allows us to track when pink was for boys, high heels were originally made for men, men used to wear make up with bright frilly clothing and act in certain ways that would have them labelled as effeminate (derogatory) nowadays. Sidenote: Obviously not in every culture, I'm speaking from a white Western experience.

And that's my gripe.

In a misogyny led society, things are deemed feminine as a way to denounce their worth. If women start to do something that men do or previously did and they cannot be forced to stop doing that (because forcing them to stop doing 'man things' is the first go to for misogynists) then either it is abandoned as 'for women' until people forget men were a part of it or it was previously gender neutral, or a special 'feminine' version of it is created to make it acceptable to share (see: trousers).

Men that then try to take part in that thing in some way are bullied for it and either have their gender questioned until dysphoria (because even cis people get gender dysphoria) makes them stop and hide their natural inclinations/likes or they get labelled as some Other in terms of their gender (it wasn't so long ago that being a gay man was seen as basically another gender aside from man or woman) or a term that is more than partially derogatory is created to describe such 'unusual' behaviour from a man (e.g. metrosexual).

When the actual truth is...all humans have emotions. All humans should be able to freely express them. Working together to share chores and earning money and raising children creates better stronger relationships. Physical touch is pleasant, even if sex isn't involved. Colours are just colours, fabrics are just fabrics, nothing about your biology dictates liking certain clothes or media genres or anything like that. Grooming yourself even to a certain extreme is fine, it's okay to want to look good and smell nice. Our body language should not be policed into 'male' and 'female' and neither should our language, knowledge, hobbies and interests.

It's not that 'men are more free when feminine, because femininity is freeing', it's that things we've been taught are 'only for women' or 'inherently feminine' aren't and what men are then officially 'allowed' restricts them tighter and tighter as time goes on.

See for example, the happiness of a trans man or gnc woman/butch lesbian. When masculinity is experienced on purpose in a way that is fully chosen and therefore expressed as desired it creates the same euphoric feelings as those embracing 'feminine' things after being told for years that they can/should not. Because expressing ourselves as we feel most natural is what is actually freeing.

[fayelero]

The morning sun filtered through the curtains of your shared apartment with Atsumu, casting a warm glow across the hardwood floors. You had just returned from your morning run when you noticed a sleek black package sitting innocently by your door. The distinct white Chanel logo made your heart skip a beat.

"No way..." you muttered, picking up the package with trembling hands. Just last week, you had casually mentioned how beautiful that new Chanel collection was while window shopping with Atsumu. You specifically remembered telling him, "It's gorgeous, but please don't even think about it. I'm happy with my regular bags!"

But as you opened the package, there it was – the exact same black leather bag you had been admiring, complete with its iconic chain strap and quilted pattern. Your jaw dropped at its beauty, but immediately after came the familiar exasperation.

"ATSUMU MIYA!" Your voice echoed through the apartment.

You heard shuffling from the bedroom, and soon enough, your boyfriend appeared in the hallway, wearing his MSBY Black Jackals training shorts and a plain white t-shirt. His blonde hair was still slightly messy from sleep, but there was a telling glimmer in his eyes that he was trying hard to suppress.

"Mornin', what's with all the yellin'?" he asked innocently, leaning against the wall with that signature smirk of his.

You held up the bag, your eyes narrowing. "Care to explain this?"

"What? That's a nice bag ya got there. Secret admirer?" He scratched his head, playing dumb, but the slight pink tinge on his ears gave him away.

"Atsumu," you said firmly, though you couldn't help but feel your heart warm at his thoughtfulness, "who else would send me a Chanel bag?"

"Maybe it was Bokun? Ya know how he gets when he's shoppin' for Keiji-kun, might've got carried away and bought ya somethin' too!" His explanation was so ridiculous that you couldn't help but laugh.

"Bokuto-san, who panicked last week because he accidentally bought premium rice instead of regular rice, bought me a Chanel bag?"

Atsumu's facade cracked as he let out a chuckle. "Okay, okay, ya caught me." He walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "But before ya lecture me about spendin' money, just hear me out."

You sighed, letting your head rest against his chest. "Tsum, we've talked about this. You don't need to buy me expensive things."

"I know," he said softly, his Kansai accent thickening with emotion. "But ya work so hard, and ya never ask for anythin'. Ya even pack my lunches for away games and come to every match ya can. Let me spoil ya a little bit?"

"But—"

"Plus," he interrupted with a playful grin, "ya should see yer face whenever we pass by that store. Yer eyes light up like when ya watch me serve an ace."

You couldn't help but blush. "That's different! Your serves are actually impressive."

"And my girlfriend deservin' nice things ain't impressive enough reason?" He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I got money to spend, and I wanna spend it on the love of my life. Sue me."

You looked down at the bag, running your fingers over the smooth leather. "It is beautiful," you admitted reluctantly.

"Just like ya," he said, and even though it was cheesy, your heart fluttered. "Now, are ya gonna model it for me or what? Gotta make sure my investment was worth it," he teased.

You playfully swatted his arm but couldn't hide your smile. "Fine, but this is the last time, okay? No more surprise luxury gifts."

"Sure, sure," he agreed too quickly, making you suspicious.

"Atsumu..."

"What? I didn't say anythin'!" He raised his hands in surrender, but you could see him already planning his next surprise in those mischievous brown eyes of his.

"You're impossible," you sighed, but reached up to kiss him anyway. "Thank you for the bag. I love it... and I love you."

His resulting smile was brighter than any designer purchase could ever be. "Love ya too, even when yer yellin' my name through the apartment."

"Only because you deserve it!"

"Worth it," he grinned, pulling you closer. "Every single time."

Ⓒkiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

tag : @haechansbbg

[bemusedlybespectacled]

actual funniest thing that could happen (legally) right now: Trump suing Elon for defamation.

like, okay, Elon just accused Trump of being in the Epstein files and that that’s the reason why they haven't been released to the public. accusing someone of a serious crime is defamation per se, meaning Trump would not need to prove any actual damages to win. and Trump loves filing defamation lawsuits, even in situations where his own conduct made him look bad, but to be fair to him, I think most people would be upset if they were accused of pedophilia, not just people with skin made out of wet Kleenex.

now, normally, it’s difficult to prove defamation against a public figure. New York Times v. Sullivan requires that someone who makes false statements against a public figure needs to have had “actual malice” (either the speaker knew the statement was false or didn’t care if the statement was true or not) for it to be defamation. Trump hates New York Times v. Sullivan because it makes it harder for him to sue people for defamation, and he's argued it should be overturned before.

but here, he wouldn’t even need to argue that it should be overturned! Elon is clearly making those statements with "actual malice" - he's clearly just saying this shit because he's upset at being booted from the White House, not because he actually has any knowledge of what's in the Epstein files!

UNLESS

UNLESS

Elon is in fact telling the truth, because truth is an absolute defense to defamation.

so say Trump sues Elon. now Elon has to pour some of his personal resources into paying lawyers. we've seen that Trump has attacked law firms for representing people he doesn't like (including issuing blatantly illegal executive orders targeting them and only lifting them if they "donate" pro bono work to the government), so Elon might need to spend more than he normally would to keep his lawyers happy and still willing to work for him. so it would take a lot of effort and a lot of money at a time when all of his companies are tanking.

and that's assuming Trump doesn't also cancel Musk's government contracts, which would hurt his income stream directly (much less money coming in to Tesla and Starlink and SpaceX) and indirectly (if people think his companies are bad investments, that doesn't just affect the price of his stock, but also his net worth).

but on Trump's side, he's going to have to prove that the accusations aren't true (the burden of proof is on the plaintiff in the US), and if he refuses to release the Epstein files to support his case, that's going to add fuel to the fire (both in actual court and the court of public opinion) because one of Elon's accusations is that Trump is deliberately hiding the Epstein files because he's in them.

additionally, even if Trump commandeered federal funds to pay for his legal team (which he totally would, and would make it possibly the only time Elon has been the less wealthy party in a case), Trump also doesn't, like, pay anyone who works for him. and just fired a bunch of DoJ lawyers in addition to everyone else in the government. and hired a bunch of total incompetents to run things. and if any of the law firms he's targeted with his executive orders have represented both him and Elon, they won't be able to legally represent Trump against Elon. so he's not exactly going to have the pick of the litter if he needs someone to personally represent him.

seriously I would kill to be able to watch these particular legal fireworks, it would be SO fucking funny, I am speaking this into the universe and asking for it to be manifested

[captain-huggy-bear]

A Little Misunderstanding

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lil' angsty at points, but ends sweet, lots of mutual pining and two idiots not realising the other is also in love with the other, meddling mothers (for the best this time)

Summary: Your parents assume that Quinn, the man you mention over the phone all the time, is in fact your boyfriend. He's very much not, but Quinn thinks its funny to pretend he is...until it gets a little too real and maybe some truths are told and feelings are aired.

Notes: Thank you to the anon who requested fake dating to lovers with Quinn, I had this idea which is a little different from the usual fake dating so I hope its okay and you still like it 😊

Tried to keep it ambiguous as to where the reader originated from so that us UK girlies can relate as well as anyone else not from Vancouver and/or Canada.

Reminder I typically use UK spellings because I'm English so...don't come at me if you wish I spelt it the US away. If I have to read US spellings all the time, you can handle the odd UK spelling

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

"When does your flight get in?" You balance your phone between your shoulder and ear, picking up a stray sock that had fallen out of your laundry basket as you attempt to tidy your apartment.

"7am your time, sweetheart, remember?" Your mother's voice rings clear down the line, familiar and warm. It's been a while since you saw either of your parents. You having moved all the way to Vancouver, more miles than you could count from your birthplace and hometown around two years ago. You were excited to have them finally able to come out and stay with you for a week, they'd never been to see you, and it had been a while since you'd been able to see your parents, not having time to fly to see them. While you were glad for the move to Vancouver, living in a completely different place away from your family wasn't always the easiest thing in the world. You so often felt like you were having to fend for yourself without much of a support network. Luckily you'd made some good friends in the time you'd been in Van.

"Quinn offered to come with me to pick you and dad up, we'll be there waiting for you so don't worry about getting an Uber." You dropped Quinn's name casually because that's what it was, he was just another part of your existence. Your friend, who admittedly you had a small crush on, but just your friend nonetheless. Just because you thought he was beautiful and wanted to kiss him didn't mean you were allowed to kiss him or that he'd even want to kiss you. He was a friend who happened to be a man and you both happened to be single. This had not changed for two years and wasn't likely to any time soon.

"Oh, Quinn'll be there?" Your mother's voice was suddenly more upbeat, excited. She'd been eager to meet Quinn for months now, you're not sure why she finally took an interest in one of your friends but you can't help but be glad. Quinn had become a massive part of your life, a support network you very much needed when you'd first come to a strange new place all by yourself. He was part of the fabric of your life now, and you knew he'd charm your parents without even thinking about it. It shouldn't matter to you that your parents like your friend, its not like Quinn was your boyfriend, but it did matter to you. You wanted them to like him as much as you did because you wanted him around for the foreseeable future.

"Yeah, I mentioned you were coming to visit the other day and his car is bigger than mine, so he offered to come along, he has to get up early most days anyway so he's not too bothered by it." It helped that Quinn had a couple of days off, but still you were thankful. He could have spent his rare enough free time doing something much more enjoyable than helping you pick your parents up from the airport.

"Your father and I look forward to meeting him, we've heard so much about him, darling!"

There's something about your mother's tone that makes you stop for a second suddenly feeling a little awkward about the whole thing. Maybe it's just how eager she is or maybe it's something else, but there's a little red flag waving in the back of your mind with some small print on that you just can't quite read yet.

"Right...um, look I'll see you tomorrow morning then? I gotta get everything ready for you guys."

"Of course, of course! We love you!"

"Love you too, mum."

"You're sure you don't mind?" You look over at Quinn from the passenger seat, the two of you look exhausted, big bags under your eyes and even bigger hoodies to hide in because a 5am wake up to get to the airport in time was just a little much for both of you. This early in the morning it's still dark and the streetlights do something to Quinn's face that makes him even more handsome than usual, even as he looks like he might fall back asleep at any minute. It doesn't help that his scruff has grown out or that his hair is in those perfect waves he always seems to get even when he's just taken his bucket off.

"I wouldn't have offered if I did, besides the amount of time we spend together isn't it about time I met your parents? You've met mine." He smiles over at you, cheeky, the sort of Quinn most people didn't see. It's silly that it makes your cheeks feel warm, he's just your friend. You shouldn't be flustered by him.

"Your parents are at as many of your games as possible, of course I've met them."

"So are you. Sue me for wanting to meet the parents of one of my best friends."

"I'm your best friend?" You lean your head back on the headrest, tilting slightly to grin at him all silly. Quinn can see it from the corner of his eye and as much as it's ridiculous, that little grin makes you even more beautiful than normal.

"One of." He rolls his eyes at you, partly because of your silliness and partly rolling his eyes at himself. You're his friend. He shouldn't feel this way about you, men can have female friends...he just can't seem to have you as a female friend without wanting to kiss you at any given opportunity. It's becoming difficult, even more so in the early morning when the low light level puts your face in stark contrast and your hoodie, one of his, makes you look so cozy and sweet.

"That's just your way of avoiding admitting how much you love me and need me in your life."

Quinn's cheeks flush bright red, so bright that even the low light can't hide it nor hide the way he bites back a smile at you, eyes fixed on the road and the last few miles to the airport.

"...Shut up."

The silence that fills the car is comfortable, the sort that comes about from spending so much time together. You have friends that aren't Quinn, of course you do, but Quinn had been your first friend in Vancouver. He'd shown you around and made time for you in his incredibly busy schedule. You were often the first person he saw when he came off a roadie and the last person to see him before he left for one. There were nights when you stayed round Quinn's after a game or vice versa. You spent so much time together that you simply coexisted, being around Quinn was as easy as breathing. You rarely argued or disagreed and when you did it was always resolved properly. You simply worked. There wasn't ever much to think about with Quinn. You could just...shut off.

"Thank you, though...seriously." You take a moment, thinking how to word your next few thoughts, your warning as the signs for the airport come into full view, "Just, my mum seems really eager to meet you so...just brace yourself."

"Eager?"

"You know when your parents are excited to meet a new partner?" You think back to the few times you'd introduced a boyfriend to your mum, the excitement that she exuded...it was starting to concern you that she was that excited to just meet your friend. Because that's all Quinn was. Your friend. Not your boyfriend. Your friend, you remind yourself, even as he looks so good smiling over at you with his beard. He'd let it grow out just enough that he looked rugged and mature.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, she's that sort of excited which is really weird...she normally doesn't' care that much about my friends. Just, sorry, if she's really weird about it?" It's awkward enough talking about, you and Quinn have always stayed firmly platonic, you didn't talk about the fact that people assumed you were dating or even the concept of it. Talking about it felt...it felt like you were opening the curtains up, letting him see in a little too far.

"You didn't tell her we were married or something, did you?"

"Quinn! Shut up!" He laughs so loud that you can't actually be that mad at him, not when he's grinning at you like that, not when he's been so stressed as of late about the performance of his team. Even if it's at your expense.

"What? Just checking! For all I know you could have told her we got married in Vegas during one of my games or something?"

"If I'm telling my mum I'm married to you, it'll be because I'm actually married to you, you idiot." You roll your eyes at him, arms crossing over your chest as you turn to look out the window.

"Oh, so you do want to marry me?" He's joking, but he's not...he's thought about it. There's not a day that Quinn hasn't thought about what it would be like to be yours and you be his, not since he met you...and then promptly managed to land himself so far into the friendzone that he was scared to crawl his way out lest he leave you behind in the process.

"...I hate you."

"No you don't." His voice is singsong in intonation and sweet and he's right because you love him and it hurts...god, it hurts how much you love someone you can't have. Someone you see every day, someone who is so deeply ingrained in your life that removing him would be like carving a hole into your own chest.

You just sit and glare at him, even as a heavy sort of sadness hits, as he pulls up into one of the parking bays for collecting passengers.

It's okay that he's just your friend, you remind yourself as you get out of the car. It's okay because he's the best friend you could ask for, he's here at 6.45 am in the morning to collect your parents from the airport, not because he was asked or because he had to, but because he wanted to. You can live with loving him in silence, so long as you always have him around.

"I think they're over this way, probably, near gate 1?" You're just getting your bearings, trying to figure out roughly where your parents will come out at after they find their things from baggage claim when you hear it.

"My baby!" The squeal of a middle aged woman who hasn't seen her daughter in far too long pierces the air. You barely have time to brace yourself for impact before your mother is wrapping you up in a gigantic hug and pressing as many kisses to your face as possible, you know without a doubt her signature mauve lipstick is smudged all across your skin.

Your father stands behind her, rolling his eyes in amusement but the smile he gives you is no less warm, "Hey there, princess."

"Hi, mum, hi, dad," You pull yourself free from your mother just long enough to get a long awaited hug from your father, big and warm and so familiar that you almost feel like crying. How long has it been since you last hugged your dad? Half a year? Nine months? Longer? You sometimes don't realise how much you miss something until you get it back.

When you turn back around your mother is already pulling Quinn into a hug that he accepts, if a tad awkwardly, his hands patting her on the back like he's not quite sure how hugs work.

She has his face in her hands before you can intervene, overly familiar and friendly as she grins up at him like he's made her day just by existing. "You must be Quinn, Y/N's boyfriend..."

"Oh, he's n-" You're pretty sure your eyes bug out of your head, startled by the suggestion because at no point in the last few years of living in Vancouver had you ever called Quinn your boyfriend. Ever.

You're cut off by Quinn who's grinning at you wickedly over the top of your mother's head like he's just been giving the greatest Christmas present he could ever ask for and in that moment you know...you know that he is going to make your life very difficult with this tiny piece of information.

"Yeah, hi, nice to meet, the boyfriend, that's me." God, he wishes it was true. There's nothing more he wants in that moment than to be able to say to your mom that you are 100% his girlfriend, but he can't...he can, however, enjoy the roleplaying while it lasts. He can't really stop himself, not when you look so aghast at your mother calling him your boyfriend, not when he can use this to tease you for at least the next 30 years. He grew up with 2 brothers, sue him for taking advantage of the situation.

"Quinn!"

"What? Am I not allowed to call myself your boyfriend anymore?" He sidles up to you, slipping out from your mother's grip to pull you into his side. His arm rests naturally over your shoulder, yours finding his waist, and it is natural...because you've done this a million times before. The kiss he presses to your hair is new though, different and as much as your mum clearly believes the ruse, you can see your father just looks amused. Something tells you he knows this is all an act, but he finds it enjoyable to watch. Typical. No support from him when you need it most. Dads.

"Oh, she's just grouchy in the mornings, has been ever since she was a baby!" Your mother looks at the two of you with such pride that you're certain her heart actually might break when she finds out Quinn isn't actually your boyfriend. You've never seen her look so happy with your choice in a man before and you're certain she won't be able to cope when you have to inevitably tell her that it was either a) a lie or b) that Quinn just wasn't the guy for you (another lie just to make your life more complicated).

"Mum!"

"Oh don't worry, I know just how grouchy my baby can be in the mornings." This time he presses a kiss to your cheek and when he does, you hiss lowly in his ear, 'I'm going to kill you.' and Quinn can't help but laugh at you, biting his lip at how much fun he's having riling you up.

"Here let me take your bags, Mrs Y/L/N," Quinn's bending down before your mother can even begin to protest, her carry on backpack being slung over his shoulder and pulling up the handle of her suitcase to wheel it behind him.

"Oh, you don't have to, Quinn!"

"I insist." He knows he's making it harder on you, can see the look you give him because he's just going to make your mother fall in love with him. But, even as he enjoys riling you up, he was also raised right and he's not letting your mother carry her own bags.

Your mother hangs back with you while your father and Quinn start walking ahead with the suitcases. She slips her arm through yours walking with you to keep up, as she does so she does a very bad attempt at whispering. The sort of whispering that means you know Quinn can hear every word and is probably enjoying it immensely.

"He's such a gentleman..."

"Yeah, a real gentleman." You mutter sarcastically, watching the way his shoulders rise and fall in a silent laugh that he's no doubt doing his best to swallow down.

"Don't be grumpy, he's just being sweet on you. You should be glad for such a loving boyfriend..." Your mother scolds you before raising her voice back to normal, Quinn and your father slowing down slightly to help keep the four of you together, "So, Quinn, my daughter tells me you're a hockey player?"

"Yeah, you talk about me, baby?" Quinn's grin is wide, and you can't help the warmth that fills your entire face because you can't actually deny it. You talk about Quinn all the time, he's your best friend and whenever your mother phones, you inevitably talk about him. Whether it was a game of his you went to or a coffee place you'd visited together or gala he'd invited you to. Maybe, you talked about him too much? Maybe, it was obvious in the way you talked about him that you loved him? Maybe that's why your mother had made such a large assumption about your relationship status. Maybe this was your fault, why wouldn't she assume you were dating?

"She talks about you all the time. Quinn this, Quinn that...did you know that Quinn did this today and broke this record?"

"Mum..." You groan out, looking to your dad for help but all he does is shrug his shoulders at you, amusement bright in his eyes. Even if he could do something you know he wouldn't because he's clearly enjoying your torture.

Quinn can't help it, the tables seem to reverse. You're embarrassed still, but now he is too, bright red in the face, ears flushed the colour of a fire engine and a hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. All because you talk about him to your parents...you talk about him when he's not around...he feels like a twelve year old, giddy because his crush smiled at him for the first time.

"I play for the NHL."

"Vancouver Canucks, wasn't it?" Your mother asks as the four of you step out into the cold Canadian air, her attention making Quinn squirm and you smile, enjoying the discomfort being swapped around for a moment.

"Yeah, I'm the captain of the team." He smiles at your mother awkwardly as he opens the boot of the car and starts to pile in the suitcases, organising them in just the right way that they fit without hassle.

Your father chimes in as he lifts his own suitcase into the back, Quinn helping him shove it back further, "That's impressive, I used to play field hockey myself, never got out of the amateur league but got a few bruises in my time. You had an injury recently right?"

You still remember phoning your mum to talk about it, at first worried and then over time growing more and more frustrated with how sullen Quinn was being. He'd grown restless from not being able to play hockey and you'd been his distraction, a distraction that had grown fed up with his moping no matter how much you loved him.

"I've had a few this year, most recently my hand." He raises his braced hand, the brace a point of annoyance to him at this point in time. He was itching to be done with it, but put up with it because it meant he could still play hockey at the moment.

"Oh, you shouldn't have been carrying my bag then, Quinn!" Your mother fusses over him, flapping about as if she might have a miracle cure for his hand injury.

"Honestly, it's fine! It looks worse than it is, I promise. I wouldn't get away with it otherwise, this one would kill me." He nods his head at you as he closes the boot, opening one of the backdoors for your mother to slide inside.

"Damn right I'd kill you, I cannot take more days of you moping that you can't play hockey and that you're bored despite my amazing company."

"You know I enjoyed spending time with you, sweetheart...but..."

"But, you can't live without hockey, yeah, I know..."

He follows you round to the passenger side door, opening it for you like a gentleman and letting you slide inside. You find yourself enjoying the attention even as you catch your mother's eye in the rear view mirror, a little smirk reaching her lips as she watches Quinn buckle you in. Something he does from time to time when he's feeling particularly sweet...because he was a good friend.

"So, Quinn, how did you meet our daughter? I'm not sure she ever mentioned it?"

The entire ride home is filled with your mother peppering Quinn with questions, encouraging him to talk more and more about your 'relationship'. Everything from when you first met to the first date you went on (which Quinn told her was the first time he took you ice skating, you were under the impression that that was a friendly family skate event and most certainly not a date).

The conversation lulls while you set your parents up in your spare bedroom, helping them settle themselves and showing them around your apartment. They hadn't ever seen it in person and they spent half the time cooing over your choices, the photos of family and friends on the wall, the ones of you and Quinn, as well as your mother checking your fridge and telling you to buy more vegetables.

It's as you're sitting down to a breakfast of pre-bought croissants and pain au chocolat that your mother restarts her question. This time even more invasive than the first.

"So Quinn, when did you know?"

"Mm? Know what?" Your best friend looks at your mother with furrowed brows, taking a sip of his orange juice and almost choking on it when she proceeds to clarify her question.

"When you loved my daughter."

There's a long beat of silence where your eyes stay fixated on your plate, watching your own hands intently as you spread Nutella inside your croissant, far too focused on that to be anything casual or calm. You're certain you're going to be sick because he doesn't love you but you love him and your poor mother is so oblivious and this...this is going too far, it feels like it's gone too far.

"Expected answer or honest answer?"

"Honest answer."

"The second week I knew her." Your head snaps up with a start only to find Quinn looking directly at you, green eyes crinkling softly at the corners. "She heard that I had been hurt on the ice the night before and she stormed round my apartment with a bunch of food, medicine and a blanket. Spent the whole day looking after me and making me watch 90s movies I hadn't watched growing up. No one outside my family had ever done that for me before...it made me realise that if I wasn't already in love, I would be pretty quick." You almost believe him, the way he looks at you, the way he speaks so softly. Almost.

You look down at your plate, tears welling in your eyes because you know he doesn't mean it. He's spinning a yarn for your mother and it hurts that he would go that far when you both know this is all some ruse he's decided to pull. You swallow hard and take a bite of your croissant, refusing to look at him for the rest of breakfast.

You won't meet his eyes until he goes to leave after breakfast, your parents hanging back so you can say goodbye to your 'boyfriend'.

"Mind if I come over after dinner? We could watch a movie with your parents?"

"Quinn..." You go to challenge him on his behaviour today, but the words won't come out.

"What?"

"Nothing...uh, sure, after dinner?"

"After dinner, baby."

You want to tell him off as he says it, as he presses a kiss to your cheek so your parents can see because you aren't his baby and he's hurting you. He's hurting you without realising it because you so desperately want to be his baby. But, you don't. You just watch him walk away down the corridor of your apartment building and out of sight before getting ready to show your parents around Vancouver for the day.

You try to put the whole thing out of your mind throughout the day, showing your parents the sights of Vancouver, including the arena...but it's hard when they keep bringing Quinn back up and asking about your feelings. They probe you for half the day and it's emotionally exhausting balancing the truth with the half-truth, even more so knowing that they're going to be just as disappointed as you are when they realise your relationship with Quinn is just a sham, a charade, a fake.

Eventually they seem to grow bored of talking about the topic, however, and dinner goes relatively smoothly, you taking them to a nice restaurant Quinn had shown you back in your first couple of months in Vancouver. Even that feels bittersweet though, filled with memories of the two of you dining together. You can't help but feel like the whole issue needs addressing as you get them back home and pop a film on ready for Quinn's arrival.

When he arrives he continues the act as if it isn't one, greeting you at the door with a kiss to the cheek and pulling you down onto the loveseat opposite your parents, curling one arm around your shoulders and urging you to lay against him, your cheek pressed into his chest. In some ways it's familiar, not an act, because you cuddle for movies all time, completely platonically of course, but both of you are touchy feely and it's always been part of your dynamic. In others though? The way he talks to you, the pet names, kisses to your hair, that is all new, all a way to show your parents he's the 'doting boyfriend', even though he's not your boyfriend at all.

Your parents lap it up, every now and then you catch them smiling at each other and then over to the two of you and you can't help but feel heavy with it. With this feeling of unrequited affection. You love Quinn, you've known that for a while now, but it was easy to be around him because you didn't need to address it. You could love him in silence and from afar...you had never considered how hard it would become when what you wanted most was being dangled in front of you like a carrot on a string.

Quinn has a similar dilemma going on in his own head. He's always known he loved you more than a friend, even when you barely knew each other...had he been braver he would have asked for your number for a date that first day, not so that he could show you around a new city as a 'friend'. But, he'd been a coward and since then he'd continued to be. He enjoyed every ounce of affection he got from you, every hug, every cuddle, ever time you held his arm at an event, all while feeling like that had to be enough...now he's had more? He's not sure it'll ever be enough, he's greedy for you. Greedy for your affection, your attention, greedy in the way he wants to keep kissing you, keeping calling you sweet names and greedy for the way you grow bashful. Greedy for more than just being your friend...he's given himself a taste of what life could be like and now he can't forget it.

It's halfway through the movie, your legs slung over Quinn's lap and his fingers carding through the ends of your hair when your parents stand with a groan from the other couch.

"Princess?" You lift your head to look at your father, who's stretching out his back after sitting for so long.

"Yeah, dad?"

"Your mother and I are getting a little tired...we're going to go to bed, if that's alright with you two?"

"Of course, don't let us keep you up." Quinn confirms your own thoughts as well, telling your parents it's not problem at all. It's all so...so domestic.

Your dad presses a kiss to the top of your head, as does your mother, before yourself and Quinn wish them goodnight. You wait until you see the door to the spare room start to close, not waiting for it to do so fully, before turning to Quinn. You pull out of his arms, the missing warmth of you an immediate loss to him, but it has him sitting up straight and taking you seriously.

Your face is sullen, sad, eyebrows pinched, mouth turned down into a frown and he's alarmed to see that your eyes are glassy like you might cry.

"Why on earth would you let my parents think we're dating? Why would you tell my mother you're in love with me?" You're certain you're going to cry, angry, frustrated and sad all in one. Lovesick because it hurts to hear him tell your mother he was in love with you when you know he's not.

"Why not?" He frowns at you, hands reaching out but you keep just out of reach as if touching him is the last thing you want. You've never shied away from Quinn's touch and he recoils, breathing a little heavier out of anxious worry that he's upset you, that he's fucked this up. Maybe you've been uncomfortable with his touch all day? Has he been making you uncomfortable all day? Is he one of those guys?

"Because we're not dating and you're not in love with me, Quinn. My mother is certain we're going to get married and I'll stop being an old spinster! You're getting her hopes up." The unspoken words lay heavy on your tongue, 'you're getting my hopes up', you want to say.

"Who said I didn't love you? Who said I didn't want to marry you?" The look he gives you isn't the cheeky one he's had all day, it's not joking or silly, it's dead serious. He scoots closer to you, but doesn't reach out for you this time. But, Quinn can't help but want to be close to you, to be drawn into your orbit, into your gravity.

"Quinn..."

"What?"

"You're being mean..." Your voice is filled with tears, wet, pathetic sounding and you choke back a sob as a tear falls down your cheek because he's being so mean...he can't dangle that in front of you, everything you've ever wanted, not when he doesn't actually mean it.

He realises in that moment that you don't believe him. You believe he's spent the entire morning and evening telling lies, saying that he loves you when he doesn't, that you're that important to him when you aren't. You believe he's being mean because you don't believe him, that the tears are because you think he's holding this thing, this idea out in front of you, only to snatch it away.

"Look, I said a lot today...but none of it was a lie." He can't help himself this time, hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb wiping away that pesky tear that shouldn't have been there in the first place. It's the way you lean into his touch that brings him a sense of confidence, of relief, you wouldn't do that if you didn't want him touching you.

"I know our first date wasn't a date, just a stupid family skate I was too scared to ask you out to as more than just a friend. I wish it had been a date and I wish I had been brave enough from the start to tell you I didn't just want to be your friend."

"Quinn..."

"And I was telling the truth...when your mother asked me when I fell in love with you." He tugs you closer, until your legs are back over his lap and your practically sitting on top of him, arms wrapping around your lower back and pulling you closer. The way he stares up at you is nothing short of reverent.

"Q..."

"The second week we knew each other you came to look after me when no one else did...and I knew...I knew that I was going to love you and that I was stupid for not asking you out in the first place...but I was...I was too scared to say anything. I didn't want to lose my new friend...I thought..." He hesitates, tongue coming out to nervously brush against his bottom lip, capturing your attention like a magpie with a shiny button.

"You thought?" You're whispering, quiet as if to speak any louder might scare him, might disrupt this little bubble you've found yourself in.

"I thought having a tiny bit of you...any bit, was better than having none of you at all." Quinn confesses, shifting you on his lap as your legs fall either side of his hips until you're so close your noses brush.

"Is it?"

"It was...for a bit..." It's self-deprecating, sardonic, like he finds himself ridiculous, foolish.

"And now?"

"And now I've had a taste of what it's like to love you, to be able to kiss you and hold you...call you mine...and now I'm greedy and it's not enough...Baby, it'll never be enough."

"You...you love me?" It's like even after all of this, everything he's said, every tender touch, you still don't quite believe him. It's hard to believe that everything you've ever wanted is sat in the palm of your hand just waiting for you to capture it, to take it. That your feelings, the ones you believed were unrequited for two years, were actually returned all along.

"I love you...and...um, if...if you'll have me, maybe I could be your real boyfriend this time?" His face is bright red, so warm to the touch when you're fingers reach out to trace his cheeks that you're surprised he doesn't combust.

"I'd like that...I...I love you too,"

"So...I'm your boyfriend?" He says it like he doesn't quite believe it, the beauty mark on his cheek moving as he grins up at you giddy like a little kid getting his first bag of sweets.

"You're my boyfriend." You press a kiss to that beauty mark without overthinking it...because you can now, because now it's not a lie when you tell your parents he's your boyfriend, because now you're allowed to kiss him and hold him and tell him how much you love him.

"Fuck...that sounds good."

He can't help but just stare up at you from where you're straddling his lap. The healthy glow to your skin, the soft smile directed down at him, the way you seem to curl into him like you're not close enough even now. God, you're beautiful and you're his...you're finally his and he's yours and...and he can't comprehend that the thing he wanted to happen for so long has finally happened. What had he been scared of all this time? He could have been with you for two years, instead he'd squandered it out of fear...

"Quinn?" Your voice is soft, melodic, so so sweet that almost closes his eyes at the sound.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Kiss me?" You whisper as if it's shameful to ask, as if you've asked for something more sordid than a simple kiss...your first kiss together at that.

"Anything for my girl."

He's gentle in the way he cups your neck and jaw with one large hand, thumb pressing just below your jaw bone as he pulls you in. There's nothing rushed about the way Quinn presses your lips together, the smooth glide of his bottom lip against your top. Even the way his tongue brushes against your lip until you open up for him is slow, steady, adoring. You can't help the way you sigh into him, fingers gliding through dark chocolate strands, eyes closing shut with the sense of home, sense of relief that you find in him.

The two of you lose yourselves in each other, slow kisses, wandering hands, nothing too extreme, but a new found intimacy that you're finally allowed to indulge in before you curl back up together to watch the remainder of the movie. Watch being a loose term for what you're really doing.

"Did you know?" Your father turns his eyes away from the scene outside the spare bedroom, the way you're curled up in Quinn's arms like you were always supposed to be there. Neither of you realising that the spare bedroom door had never fully closed, both your parents eavesdropping like Samwise Gamgee.

"That they weren't actually together, dear?" Your mother looks sly and devious as she looks over at her husband. The face of the woman he loves, but also fears in equal measure.

"Yes."

"Of course I knew...but I figured they could both use a shove in the right direction, I mean, look at them?" Your parents both turn to watch the two of you, the way you curl up together on the couch is the epitome of young love. There's no real watching of a movie happening, instead Quinn's fingers are rubbing circles into your shoulder, while you look up at him lovingly from where you're curled against his chest. Every now and then he dips his head down to press a kiss against your forehead, and each time you giggle, face pressing briefly into his neck. The giddy feeling of a new, fresh love, making film watching the least of your interests.

"They just needed a little push." Both your parents smile at each other even as your father playfully scolds his wife, "You're a meddlesome woman."

"And you love me for it."

"Yes, yes I do."

Perhaps it took a bit of meddling, a fake misunderstanding, but that would be their little secret...at least for now. Your mother was rather looking forward to seeing you squirm in the future as you reveal the truth, that you hadn't actually been dating Quinn as long as you said. Yes, she certainly was happy to help, but she also was still your mother and lying to your mother was certainly not the done thing. A little squirming was good for you sometimes, but first, she'd let you enjoy the fresh bloom of love...and she'd go easy on you.

[peachyprophets-blog]

BETWEEN SUN AND MOON

Humanoid! Catnap x Reader x Humanoid!Dogday

CW: Nicknames "Angel"

Summary: You get a letter calling you to an old factory. When you arrive, you recognize old faces that you once saw and loved as a child...

A/N: I've finished Chapter 4 of Poppy Playtime and felt the urge to write a FF.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The letter was on the table in front of you. You were surprised when you found this letter in your mail. The letter had an address that you hadn't been to for a long time, Playtime. When you were younger, you went there every day. Your favorites there were always Catnap and Dogday. Unfortunately, at some point you couldn't go anymore because your parents moved with you to another state. The last time you went there as a child, you were given two cuddly toys, Catnap and Dogday. The employees had known you long enough now and thought it would be a pleasure to give you smaller versions of two of your favorites as a parting gift. When you remembered it, you had to smile, of course that made you super happy. You still had them both to this day, and they accompanied you when you moved with Catnap and Dogday, you never felt lonely. And when you moved back to the city where you grew up after years because you had been offered a well-paid job, you suddenly found the letter in your mail inviting you to the Playtime area. You had already heard about the factory closing back then, but like everyone else, you didn't know why the factory with the great figures and the endless fun had closed. So you decided to drive to the factory the next day to see how things were going and maybe find out why the factory was closed.

When you went to the factory the next day, you were already excited inside, you were finally returning after all these years to the place that was so dear to you as a child. When you entered the factory, you were confused why it was open, but you didn't worry about it. After many terrible events such as the chase by Huggy Wuggy or Mommy Long Legs, you finally arrived at Playcare, the place that had shaped you so much. But you now knew how terrible this place was in secret and could also imagine why it had been closed. When you arrived at Playcare, you sat down for a moment because you were exhausted, but as soon as you had found some peace and quiet, a red mist came towards you before your vision became increasingly blurred and you fell into a restless sleep.

You can remember this dream, you had had it once before as a child. You woke up but your eyes remained closed, you heard two voices communicating with each other and there was a slightly sweet smell in the room. "Are you sure they're okay?" a voice asked worriedly but got no answer, just a deep "mhhhm". You were slowly able to open your eyes and what you saw frightened you. Dogday and Catnap were standing right in front of you, they seemed to be arguing with each other. When Dogday noticed that you were awake, he started to smile and sat down next to you before gently stroking your head with his hand. "Angel, you're awake," he said to me in a soothing tone. Before I could answer, I felt another weight next to you. Catnap had sat down next to me and laid his head against mine. "Don't worry, angel, he's missed you all these years, just like I have," Dogday assured me. Catnap gave an affirmative purr and looked me in the eyes for a moment longer. He seemed to notice that the dream was getting to you because shortly afterwards he rubbed his head against yours in a soothing manner.

"We've never forgotten you, of course, but we were always with you." When Dogday said these words, you remembered the cuddly toys you were given back then. Sometimes it felt like they were watching you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[really-fanny-longbottom]

a solstice to remember

azriel x reader | nothing could keep azriel from the place where he wants to be the most. words: 3.6k a/n: let's pretend i'm not like a week late with this fic, anyways, happy 2025!

masterlist

velaris was beautiful during this time of the year.

the city was surrounded by snow, the houses decorated, the frozen river and the streets illuminated by bright lights. 

even the cold couldn't shake the magical atmosphere for the sounds of singing and laughing could be heard from the top of the mountains. 

it truly was a sight to behold.

but it was azriel who had the best view of all.

high in the sky, with a distant flapping of wings from the clouds, azriel flew over the beautiful city of starlight.

the stars kept him company on his return flight, and the wind that blew against his face, his wings, taking all his worries away, welcomed him back. 

there was nothing like home. 

if this were the old days, azriel wouldn't have hesitated in arranging some poor excuse and locked himself in his bedroom in the company of his shadows until morning arrived.

but things were different now—they had been different for quite a while. 

the sight of the house of wind came into his vision, soothing his heart, which azriel had carried heavy all day.  

he wasn't supposed to work today, but with last-minute information coming in through one of his spies, azriel couldn't postpone it.

a conversation with rhys had taken place. the brothers had discussed the best plan of action, both coming to the same conclusion.

and with that, azriel left at dawn with only a promise to try to return today.

a risky promise, knowing what was at stake, but one that he would do and did everything he could to keep. 

with a lighter heart, azriel landed happily on the house's porch. 

still in his spymaster attire, the male made sure to check that everything was in order before opening the double doors. 

the moment the doors opened, he was welcomed with all the scents and sensations he was grateful to experience.

the smell of roast meat, mashed potatoes and vegetables filled the air, the fire in the fireplace warmed the room and the decorations left no room for doubt as to which festivity they were celebrating. 

his family was already in the room, snuggled up in the comfort of the sofas with glasses of wine in hands and with brief conversations and laughter being exchanged. 

azriel closed the doors behind him before stepping forward.

"finally!" rhys exclaimed, a relieved smile appearing in his features. 

at his exclamation, all heads turned in azriel's direction, welcoming him with warm and kind smiles. 

cassian, ever the playful, "took you long enough. we were starting to wonder if we had to send a search party for you."

azriel chuckled, shaking his head while entering the room, "it was work, you know how it is." 

as he approached the sofas, rhys stood up, walking towards him.

"sorry for making you work today, brother," he apologized, a firm hand taking the place on his shoulder.

"nonsense," azriel was quick to reply, "we both know it was the right decision," he finished with a light pat on rhys's back.

rhys smiled, knowing it wasn't easy for his brother to be away from home for long periods of time, especially during the holidays, and now more than ever. 

"still, i'm glad you made it. it wouldn't have been the same without you here."

azriel was grateful for his words, more than he let on.

a raise of rhys's eyebrows allowed azriel to hear his brother's silent question—if everything had gone well and if he was okay.

a simple nod was all that was needed, and a quick hug was exchanged between the brothers, ending the conversation about work. 

"here," cassian said, handing him a glass of wine, "we've already started, so you'll have to hurry up to catch us."

azriel chuckled and shook his head, but before he could take a sip, he found himself looking around the room, his hazel eyes hoping to find a pair of green ones.

feyre smiled fondly at her brother-in-law, understanding the feeling all too well "looking for someone, az?" 

the corners of his lips rose, his heart skipped a beat at the thought of those green eyes. 

"indeed," he replied as his eyes kept traveling through the room "where's my girl?" 

and as if the universe had listened, there you were, entering the living room, helping elain to bring out the desserts.

as soon as he spotted you, azriel's heart melted.

affection and love filled his eyes, and shivers ran through his body.

after all this time, his body, his heart, and his soul, they all still reacted to you just as they did the very first time. 

"there she is," azriel said, his voice laced with adoration while setting his glass of wine on the table.

your eyes moved towards the sound—the first one you heard every morning and the last one you heard every night. 

azriel watched you as your features change from reserved and quiet to one of surprise and relief. 

"az!" you said and hurriedly to place the tray of food on the table before running into his arms— your safe haven. 

his heart skipped another beat as he saw the smile that lit up your face upon seeing him and the male didn't hesitate to hug you tightly, his face going down to your neck, inhaling your familiar scent. 

it was both adorable and terrifying, the effect you had on him, but azriel never complained—and he never would. 

"you made it," you said softly against his chest, where his heart was beating faster than he could fly. 

"of course," azriel replied, his scarred hands caressing your back before tangling in your hair. "i promised you, didn't i?" 

you responded by breaking the hug and cupping his face with your hands, your thumbs caressing his skin before pulling him in for a much needed kiss. 

azriel deepened the kiss, his hands grabbing your hips to pull you closer, however, the kiss was interrupted when your body pressed entirely against his and a small tap was felt by both of you.  

the shadowsinger pulled back slightly, a loving smile already plastered on his features "looks, like we have an intruder." 

you chuckled and rested your forehead against his, closing your eyes for a second to savor the moment, "it looks like we do." 

azriel's smile widened, he kissed your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin for a beat before looking down.

"hi, little one. daddy's here" he said, his large hand coming to rest over your small baby bump, running his fingers through it.

another kick was given, the baby clearly happy for their father's voice. 

chuckles erupted from the both of you, his hand continued his caress as he lowered his head down to plaster a kiss there.

his hazel eyes met yours when he stood to his full height again, his hand remaining on your bump.

"sorry for being late, love" his fingers caress your cheek, before grabbing a few loose strands and tucking them behind your ear "i tried to hurry up as quickly as pos-" 

you silenced him with a kiss on his lips, both of your hands finding his chest while his hand positioned on the back of your neck.

azriel's heart melted even more, you always knew how to disarm him, at any moment.

"the only thing that matters is that you're here, az," you ran your hand over his jaw, the touch soft and affectionate "the only thing."  

"you're right," he said, before lowering his head to your shoulder once more and placing a light kiss there.

he lifted his head moments later, his hazel eyes scanning the room, trying to find his own eyes in a smaller version. 

a smile graced your face, and you couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. 

"he's upstairs." 

azriel's eyes meet yours, behind them you could find a hint of nerves "how is he?"

you sighed, your heart clenching for the male in front of you. 

"a little sad for thinking that his daddy won't make it for winter solstice" you told him softly, your hand caressing the length of his back to help him relax in a way only you could. 

azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration, "i hate to disappoint him." 

at that moment, despite being a little more serious, a laugh escaped you before you could hold it back.

azriel raised an eyebrow in question, his nerves being replaced by confusion. 

"what's so funny?" he asked you, squeezing your hip slightly.

"you're such an idiot" you answered him, another laugh leaving you.

at his reaction, you grabbed his face and looked into those beautiful hazel eyes.

"dorian it's not disappointed with you, azriel. he's sad, yes, but not disappointed. he thinks you're the coolest person of prythian, he wants to be like you when he grows up. you could never disappoint him." you explained, finishing with a light swat to his chest.

your words helped calm his heart. you knew more than anyone how insecure azriel still felt about fatherhood.

even though your son was already five years old, there were still times when he didn't feel worthy of you, or dorian, or the life you had managed to build together. 

it was in moments like these where he needed you the most, your words were more powerful than any other's.

"you're right," he told you, his hand running up and down your hips. "i'll go upstairs, telling him that i'm here." 

when azriel turned to head for the stairs, you were quick to grab his hand and pull him towards you.

"let me go," you told him, "i'll tell him that one of his presents arrived earlier and bring him down." 

a big smile invaded the male's features, excitement running through his veins "yeah, okay."

you kissed his cheek before letting go of his hand and walking upstairs.

azriel kept his eyes on you as you left the room and headed for the stairs.

his eyes studied your purple dress and how the color only helped to highlight your beauty even more, how your hair had gotten longer since you decided to grow it out over the summer, how you always have one hand resting on your bump, and the golden ring with a cobalt blue stone as you placed your other hand on the railing of the stairs. 

he watched you, with a goofy smile, as you disappeared up the stairs and his attention was drawn to cassian when he imitated the sound of a whip. 

laughter reached his ears, and the male let his head fall in defeat, knowing exactly what was in store for him.

"oh, you're whipped, brother," cassian told him as he watched his brother join them on the couch. 

azriel sighed as he took a sip of his wine, shaking his head in response to cassian's comment. he didn't even bother to deny it, knowing clear as a blue sky that he was hopelessly whipped for you.

as he leaned further into the couch, cassian leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs.

"i have to say, i never thought i'd see the day where azriel," he began, a smirk forming on his lips.

"...the feared shadowsinger, the ruthless spymaster, the most brooding illyrian," he continued, earning chuckles from every member of the family, especially the said male.

azriel rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms over his chest, knowing very well there was no way of stopping his brother, so he embraced the teasing.

"...would be completely whipped by a female." cassian finished, winking a eye in his direction while taking another sip of his wine.

azriel barked a laughter. he didn't correct cassian because there was nothing to correct, everything the general said was true.

he himself had not imagined the day where something like this would be possible—but here they were.

"i never thought about it either," azriel replied, a fond smile on his face, his eyes locked on cassian's.

cassian's face softened at his words, he knew that despite his teasing, the words carried nothing but truth and he couldn't be happier to be that way.

"i bet it feels damn good," the general said, raising his glass in the direction of his brother.

"it does," azriel said on his turn, mimicking cassian's gesture "it really does, it's the best feeling in the world."

they both drink to that, a feeling of gratitude passing through both of them for the life that, after everything they faced, they managed to have. 

azriel couldn't help but smile, his eyes flickering towards the doorway you had just disappeared moments ago. 

•••

as you reached the top of the stairs, the sound of giggles and lively conversation echoed through the hallway. 

as you made your way down the hallway, you smiled softly, your heart warming at the sound of the children enjoying their playtime.

when you reached the door, you stood there for just a moment to hear another set of giggles, a small chuckle escaping you.

you opened the door and were greeted with the sight of your nephews.

"auntie!" nyx exclaimed, dropping his toys to the floor to come wrap his arms around your leg in greeting.

your other nephew, kaden, followed nyx shortly, hugging your other leg.

"hi, auntie!" kaden said, showing you his big toothless smile.

"hi, sweethearts," you caressed their heads, "you're boys having fun?" you asked with a smile mimicking theirs.

"yeah!" the boys answered in union before returning to the floor, definitely to finish their toy's mission.

your eyes stayed on them for a little longer before your attention was drawn to the side and settled on your son.

dorian was seated a little further from his cousins—sadness was evident in his eyes, his head was resting on his hand while the other one was fiddling with the toy. 

the sight made your heart ache, so little he was and yet he already felt such great emotions. 

you approached him, one hand on your baby bump while the other held the skirt of your dress.

you knelt in front of him, your hand caressing his back carefully to not hurt his little wings.  

"hi, baby" you said, your voice gentle and calm.

your voice drew dorian's attention and he lifted his head and you found you "hi, mommy."

your eyes locked on his hazel ones, the same ones you had fall in love with "still sad about daddy leaving for work?"

dorian sighed before nodding his head, his eyes dropping to the floor.

"yes," he murmured, his small voice filled with sadness, "he should be here." 

your fingers found his hair, the one he had inherent from you, and caressed it in a soothing manner.

"i know it's hard, baby," you spoke softly, your tone comforting him, "but daddy's job is important. he didn't want to leave today, you know that right?" 

dorian's eyes flickered to meet yours, a hint of understanding making it's way on his features.

"i know, but i still miss him," dorian whispered, leaning into your touch.

a small smile formed on your lips, and you gave him a mischievous look.

"well, what if i told you that one of your presents arrived earlier?" 

dorian's eyes lit up at your words and he moved closer to you, his small hands reaching out to touch your baby bump. 

"sissy?" he asked you, his sadness being replaced with excitement.

despite not knowing the baby's gender, dorian had been convinced since the very moment you and azriel had broken the news that he was going to be a big brother, that he was having a baby sister.

a small chuckle escaped you at his eagerness "no, my love. it's not your sister, she's still going to take a little longer to get here" you caressed his chubby cheek with your thumb.

his eyes fell at your words but you were quickly to intervene "but," you started, his eyes lifting immediately to find yours "this present is much better." 

his face light up at that, and your smile widened, seeing that your sweet boy was no longer sad.

"do you want to come see it?" 

dorian nodded his head eagerly "yes, mommy" he said and a beat later, he was on his feet.

you laughed and got up too, extended your hand towards him which he didn't hesitate to hold onto.

"let's go then," you said as you led him towards the door.

when you opened the door, you turned around to look at your nephews "you boys come too. it's almost dinner time." 

at the mention of food, kaden got up almost as fast as the speed of light, his toys now forgotten on the floor—he really was cassian's son.

you let the boys go ahead of you, keeping an eye on them so they wouldn't get any ideas about doing something reckless on stairs. 

as dorian walked down the stairs, he suddenly stopped when azriel's voice came from the living room.

your son lifted his head to look at you, "daddy?" 

your response was a smile, and you had to quicken your pace as dorian began to descend the stairs faster, taking you with him.

as you entered the room, his eyes began to search for azriel and you only had a second to register his happiness before he let go of your hand and ran towards your husband. 

"daddy!" he shouted, his voice filled with joy.

azriel's lip formed a smile the moment he son your son running towards him.

the male stood up just in time to catch the little boy who threw himself into his arms, the little boy's arms wrapping tightly around his neck.

"hey, sweetheart," azriel said, hugging dorian just as tightly.

dorian snuggled into his father's embrace, his face on his neck "you're here!" he exclaimed, his excitement echoing through the walls.

"of course," azriel replied, his hand caressing your son's back "i promised you and your mommy, didn't i?"

"yes, yes!" dorian confirmed, too excited to contain his happiness.

your heart melted at the sight, grateful for having your two favorite boys with you.

you approached them, your hand going to dorian's hair and ruffle it a little "did you like your present?" 

dorian lifted his head to look at you, his smile never flattering "yes, best present ever!" 

at the mention of presents, the other boys couldn't contain themselves.

"when can we open the presents?" kaden asked from his seat on nesta's lap.

"soon, we still have to eat dinner first, son." cassian told him, ruffling his hair.

"can't we just have dinner later?" nyx insisted, more than ready to open his presents.

the boys eyes flickered between the adults and all the presents gathered under the tree. 

even dorian couldn't hide his eagerness to open his.

you, living up to the title of coolest aunt, had no choice but to back up the children "since we're all here, we might as well take advantage and open the presents." 

the children cheered and didn't waste another second before launching themselves towards their presents.

your heart swelled with love and affection, seeing that dorian was happy, his sadness from earlier completely forgotten.

you and azriel observed as he opened his presents, his face lit up.

your arms wrapped around azriel's waist, pulling him closer to you "thank you."

azriel's hands found their place on your hips, as they belong there "for what?" 

you studied his features before answering softly "for keeping your promise." 

azriel's eyes softened, his heart filled with pride and love "of course, there's nowhere else where i would rather be than here." 

you couldn't help the small blush that painted your cheeks and drew a chuckle of amusement from azriel. 

you leaned forward to peck his lips, enjoy your little bubble of love for a little longer.

"i love you," you whispered to him.

he rested his forehead against yours, his hands leaving your hips and finding your baby bump.

"i love you more."

you didn't try to argue with him, knowing already how azriel had about a thousand arguments to use in his favor and how he was the one who loved you more.

with a small peck to his nose, you reluctantly pulled away. 

azriel took a seat on the sofa, pulling you to sit on his lap while you both watched your son opening his presents.

cassian passed his present to dorian, a box so big it was almost the size of the little boy.

"that's a big present, dorian. what is it?" azriel asked, his arm coming to surround your waist.

you looked at cassian, silently asking him what could he possibly have got dorian that needed a box so big.

when he replied to you with a mischief grin and a wink of an eye, you knew you were in trouble.

"oh, no," you mumbled.

nyx and kaden let out small gasps as dorian's face lit up so much that it could have been a shooting star. 

"it's a guitar!" dorian exclaimed with widened eyes and a bright smile.

you and azriel freezed, your mouths slightly opening, not believing what you had just heard.

you both looked at cassian at the same time. 

the general dismissed you with a shrug of his shoulders "what? dorian is the baby of the family, he deserves special presents."

you and azriel kept looking at him dumbfounded, your reaction making everyone laugh.

"oh, this is priceless," rhys said, taking a sip of his wine.

 nesta patted your knee, her face red from laughter "good luck."

you and azriel looked at each other speechless, but you didn't have time to try to say something when the sound of the guitar reached your ears.

"this is so cool! thank you, uncle cass!" dorian exclaimed.

"you're welcomed, kiddo," cassian replied while ignoring the glares he was receiving from you and azriel.

he was enjoying this entire situation too much to care about your death stares.

however, when on the following winter solstice, you and azriel offered kaden a drum set, cassian didn't find it that funny.

a/n: thank you for reading!

general taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @littlelou22 @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @meul-a @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa @mrsjna @lively-potter @avajustreads @talesofadragon @circe143 @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @dark-chaos-314 @tequilya @scoliobean @saltedcoffeescotch @charlotteintumbleland @agirlwithwifiandalaptop @987coley

*if you asked to be tagged and you weren't, it's because i couldn't find your blog.

dividers by @cafekitsune

[harrysfolklore]

growing family - verstappen!yn

pairing: verstappen!yn x boyfriend!charles, best fiend!oscar x verstappen!yn

verstappen!yn smau | masterlist | my patreon

You hummed along to the music coming from the speakers of your boyfriend's Monaco home as you stirred some pasta sauce for dinner.

Despite being to Monaco countless of times before, there was something different about being there with Charles for his home race week.

You enjoyed being alone in his apartment while he ran some errands or spent some time training, you felt at home and the company of Leo, the puppy you adopted together made everything better.

However, your time to yourself cooking dinner for you and your boyfriend was interrupted by your phone ringing.

oscar pastry 🥐 FaceTime Video

Frowning because you weren't quite expecting a call from your best friend, you answered.

"Hello mum," he said once his face popped up on screen.

"Mum?" you asked confused, "What are you even talking about?"

"Have you not seen twitter? I'm your kid now, Charles adopted me," he shrugged, "Where's my brother Leo?"

"Oscar are you drunk or something," you laughed at your best friend, "I haven't been on twitter since like, last year."

"Well log in, dumbass," he rolled his eyes and you flipped him off, "Hey! That's not the way to treat your son."

"Gosh stop saying that, we've been best friends since we were 15 it's weird," you shook your head as you opened the twitter app, luckily you weren't logged out because you certainly didn't remember your password.

And the first thing you saw pop up in your timeline was the banter between your boyfriend and your best friend.

"You guys are so annoying," you threw your head back in laughter as you read the tweets, "And you're both serious about it too."

"Of course, I'm a Leclerc-Verstappen now," he laughed along, "Shit, does that make Max my uncle?"

"It does," your eyes widened, "Are you sure you want that?"

"Well I wanted you guys to adopt me so you give me back the attention your boyfriend stole from me, I never consider Max would become my uncle," he teased, making you laugh.

"Come on pastry, we've talked about this," you gave him a serious look, "You'll always be my best friend and me being with Charles now would never change that."

"I know, I'm just messing around," a small smile played on his face, "You guys seem so happy and I love that for you."

As if on cue, you heard the front door open and your boyfriend's voice calling for you, Leo instantly barking and running to the door when he noticed his presence.

"Mon ange, I'm back," he said as he entered the kitchen, Leo cradled on his arm, "Missed you."

He pulled you closer y the waist and kissed the side of your head, making you smile and lean into him.

"Yikes, I didn't need to see that," Oscar's voice was heard from the phone screen, making you laugh.

"Oh hey son," Charles said to him, "How's my new favorite adopted child doing?"

"Hey dad, just calling to check in on my amazing parents and my little brother," he said, glancing at Leo who was now comfortably settled in Charles' arms.

"This is so weird, stop it," you cringed, making both of them laugh and Charles pull you to him again as you covered your face.

"We're a big happy family, mon amour. Ollie, Leo and now Oscar, the Leclerc-Verstappen family."

You smiled at him, pecking his lips a couple of times.

"Okay that's my cue, I don't want to see you guys making out," Oscar said shaking his head, "Good night, mum and dad, see you this weekend."

"Say bye to your brother too," Charles said, moving Leo closer to the camera.

"Bye Leo!"

As Oscar hung up, you couldn't help but laugh at the entire interaction, "So he's our son now?"

"Yes, and he seems to be enjoying it a lot," Charles chuckled, setting Leo down on the floor, "Who would've thought we'd have an adopted son before getting married or having our own kids?"

"Don't get any ideas, Leclerc," you playfully swatted his chest, "We're not adopting every one of my friends who jokes about it."

"Why not? We could build a whole team," Charles teased, wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder and kissing it chastely, "We'd be the coolest family ever."

"It's your secret plan to make everyone on the grid your family? Dating Max's sister and now adopting Oscar, you're something else, Leclerc."

Charles laughed loudly at your words, throwing his head back and making you laugh along.

"Well, what can I say," he shrugged, "I'm charming and people love me."

"That you are," you smiled, kissing him gently.

That you are," you smiled, kissing him gently.

"Now, let me help with dinner," Charles offered, moving to the stove and checking the sauce. "It smells amazing, just like you."

"Smooth talker," you teased, handing him a spoon to stir. "Just make sure it doesn’t burn."

[inconveniently-discorporated]

I think I have a potentially controversial opinion on Aziraphale and the ending.

So one of the things that made me smile so, SO much, was THIS:

That PURE ABSOLUTE UTTER JOY.

We have not seen ANYTHING like that from demon Crowley. We've seen him be drunk and silly, we've seen him be amused, but we've not seen this.

Now, let's consider what we know about Heaven:

It's never fully populated. ALL of the shots are completely devoid of angels, except for a few, who are almost always just getting somewhere and never really talking to each other.

Where I thought the archangels were a tight clan, it really looks like they're super catty and prone to jealousy. No doubt they would stab each other in the back happily if it came down to it. How much of Heaven is like that, if even the archangels all hate each other?

Aziraphale already has a nervous disposition when he meets Crowley. Is he perhaps an angel that NEVER fit in? Is he familiar with being ostracized by his peers? Just how lonely IS Heaven? Crowley seems to be a pretty powerful angel, and HE doesn't even know that it's all getting shut down in 6000 years -- it's like no one talks to anyone.

Aziraphale, during their whole meeting, looks absolutely smitten. At one point, Crowley goes, "Look at you! You're gorgeous!" and Aziraphale looks over with happy surprise, just before realizing he's not looking at him but rather at what he's created. And then, when Crowley starts going on about making suggestions and asking questions, Aziraphale is IMMEDIATELY concerned and doesn't want him to get into trouble.

Aziraphale is hooked on this angel, and I cannot help but think that this is perhaps the first angel who has ever WELCOMED Aziraphale into his company.

He is hooked on this angel, and the way Crowley smiles is with the light of all the stars he's just created, and it's infectious and it brings a smile to Aziraphale's face as well. And then this angel shields him from the oncoming falling stars.

He is hooked on this angel, and then this angel goes and joins the Great Rebellion, and becomes fallen himself.

"You were an angel once," Aziraphale said, softly, at the bandstand. He remembers.

I think it's reasonable to guess that Heaven has never felt so warm as it did in the presence of millions of exploding stars, next to the (arch?)angel that may perhaps be one of the few (only?) to pay him any positive attention.

I think it's reasonable to assume that Heaven was not the same after Crowley fell. I wouldn't be surprised to find out Aziraphale had wondered about the angel, wondered if he was okay. I would imagine that Aziraphale keeps that picture of pure, angelic, unbridled joy somewhere inside of him.

So, really, is it any surprise that threaded throughout EVERY interaction, Aziraphale has this deep-down feeling that Crowley is good? Would it be any surprise that Aziraphale, an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can (which isn't always), feels that if HE is still an angel, then what was done to Crowley was a great injustice?

I think it would make sense that we are shown "before the beginning" not just because it is fun, but because THIS is the foundational context for everything Aziraphale thinks Crowley is, everything Crowley enjoys. I think he remembers this moment and wishes he could live there forever. With Crowley. The two of them with this happiness, forever.

But nothing lasts forever, as much as he wishes it did.

I'm not saying Aziraphale was right with what he did to Crowley at the end of s2. There is a lot I think he did wrong. I think he held onto this picture so tightly, he didn't realize that Crowley had long since let it go, and painted a new one with Aziraphale with all the shades of grey he picked up as he sauntered (or plummeted) vaguely downward (into a pool of boiling sulfur).

I don't think he was right, but I do think he is understandable. I think there was a lot of selfishness, but also some misguided selflessness too. I watched that first scene with angelic Crowley and my heart actually broke a little, because I thought, "What a shame this joy was taken away from him."

I think Aziraphale is trying to right the injustice he feels has been done. But I also think Aziraphale doesn't realize that Crowley can never go back. The concept of falling never crossed Crowley's mind when he suggested that he ask a few questions, and he will NEVER get that kind of innocence back. And Aziraphale doesn't understand, because Heaven has clearly always just been that way for him (he is already aware of the danger of asking questions).

Crowley does not want to go back because he can never go back. He can never be the same angel he was when he thought he could build a universal machine that would crank out stars for eons and eons. He can never be the same angel he was when he thought he could make some suggestions and ask some questions and co-create with THE Creator.

Crowley understands that, and Aziraphale doesn't. But I can understand why Aziraphale would want to try. And I think it's all because of this: