#Helpful Infor

[peapod20001]

how do you draw ash,,, I'm struggling to draw him. pls break him down to his essence for me so I can better understand him

He’s got a very simple design compared to all my other ocs, so in theory he should be easy to draw…. But because his design is simple it is very easy to completely fuck up one thing and end up with him not looking right (speaking from experience lol)

So! Here’s my attempt at like. Breaking him down for you. I’m not actually sure if this will help any LMAO but I hope it does :,,) I’ll absolutely do more if you need it tho like anything specific like I had fun doing this

He’s a very round boy, as in like soft edges… really the only points on him would be like. His hair or whatever. He’s got a big mouth for yappin the ear off his family members, and big eyes for lookin at his family, and long arms to hug his family, etc etc.

You would NEVER see him mad like you would my other ocs, he’s the type to start crying when put into a situation that makes him really upset (you probably wouldn’t even see him very upset either as he has a tendency to run away from situations that make him feel bad)

He’s very aware of his body and the space he takes up, so unlike my other gangly ocs he isn’t clumsy at all. He DOES find himself in awkward situations sometimes (like accidentally eavesdropping on people cus they don’t notice he’s there and he’s too awkward to move away cus what if they think he’s listening in on purpose)

He’s not very outgoing with most people and it takes him a bit to really warm up to someone, but once you’re in his good books you are never getting him to chill out. He’s got a serious case of “lack of volume control” and he talks to people like they are across a big room pretty much all the time. If he isn’t yelling he’s probably whisper talking to try and seem less obvious, he gets self conscious about taking up too much space.

He’s a big talker he’s always trying to say something to someone if they’ll let him and often times it has no relation to the current topic or situation (only he seems to notice how the topics flow together) He can and will go on for hours if no one stops him. He’s got like, an internet sized brain in his noggin so he could quite literally go on forever about literally anything (he goes down research rabbit holes for fun)

I should probably stop rambling about him now LMAO sorry I just love him a bunch he’s a nerd

[art-kitty-edits]

Wait now I'm seeing people on Twitter post the same art over and over again cleaning it's Claude's winter unit but I did not see him in the banner announcement am I being bamboozled are we all just on a insane amount of copium 💀

[coco-loco-nut]

Honey, Honey

pairing: charles x reader

summary: it was just you and your daughter against the world, until she found your old diary

series masterlist masterlist soundtrack

requests open

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“I never want to see you again. Get out of my home,” the last words you said to him, tears streaming down your face in the summer sun. Another lie from another man who swore he was different. You fall for it every time.

A year later you found yourself once again abandoned by a man who tricked you into believing that he cared even a little bit. That was the last time you trusted one, even if he gave you the greatest gift in the world. Ten little fingers and ten little toes who thankfully didn’t take anything from her asshole father.

“Honey, are you sure you will be okay?” Raising your daughter as a single mom was incredibly hard, but you had the support of your parents to help.

“Mom, you’ve raised me for sixteen years, a weekend work conference is not the end of the world. Plus, I like nonno and nonna,” your daughter tries to soothe your nerves, but what parent doesn’t have insecurities about leaving their child.

“I just hate leaving you, bug,” you pull her into a hug.

“Alright, you better leave before you miss your train. We raised you and you turned out alright, one weekend won’t kill her,” your mom stands in the doorway, a knowing smile on her face.

“Thanks Mom, love you,” you give her a quick hug before heading to your car. As you go down the road, leaving your childhood home in the rearview mirror, you want to cry. You’ve never taken a trip by yourself without your daughter. You’ve tried to bring her along, but she insisted that you take the weekend for yourself. The audacity of that girl. She got it from you, naturally.

“So, do you have anything embarrassing of Mom’s that you can show me?” your daughter asks almost immediately when she steps into the house.

“I have a lot, why don’t you go check her closet,” your mother’s eye twinkles with mischief, proud that you raised your daughter so well.

She immediately searches the back of the closet, everyone knows that’s where you hide your secrets. And… voila, a stack of diaries. 20 years ago, 19, 18, and 17. You don’t really speak about those last two years, all you’ve really said is that you worked a summer job at some fancy restaurant while taking a couple summer classes to get ahead in your degree. You never even told her who her father is. You always said that he never showed up besides being a sperm donor.

“What the fuck,” she says, reading over the page once again. The start of the diary from 18 years ago was totally normal, until you started seeing someone. Footsteps race down the stairs as she finishes reading about your summer. “Nonna?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” your mom doesn’t even need to hear your daughter’s question, she’s ready for whatever plan she has.

“I’m back, I hate conferences,” you collapse on the couch three days later.

“Well then, I guess we don’t need to ask how that went down we?” your mom offers a glass of wine which you gratefully take.

“I love my job, I really do, but it would be so much better if I didn’t have to pretend to care what others in the field are doing. Let me do my own thing,”

“You always have, that’s what we love about you,” your mom’s gentle tone reminds you why you leaned on her so much as your daughter was growing up.

“Alessandra, no running in the house,” your father scolds from the kitchen. Kind, yet firm, the parenting style you adopted from him.

“Sorry,” she quickly apologizes, helping him with dinner.

“I think you need a break. Both of you do, classes just ended, why don’t you go on a little vacation. Don’t say no, I already booked it,” you mother insists.

“You are the best. Will you be joining?” you relax a little, thinking about not working.

“No, it’s mother daughter time. I’m sending you the information now,” your mother is surprisingly good with technology. “You know, Alessandra planned a lot of it, she was very excited at the idea,” your phone buzzes as you get the information.

“Lake Como, good choice. And what is that, Monza?”

“That weekend happened to host a race, Alessandra thought it would be fun,” right. Growing up in Italy there was one thing you didn’t have to teach her, how to be a tifosi, even if you weren’t.

“Right. Thank you, I do wish you were joining us though,” your sad smile changes to a happy one when called for dinner.

“Next time,” she promises.

The months fly by and you find yourself on the train into Monza. Alessandra is buzzing with energy, excited for the race.

“I’m surprised you had that. I thought you hated racing,” she said earlier when you emerged wearing vintage Ferrari gear from your teenage years.

“You cannot grow up in Italy without Ferrari gear, especially when there were those great years,” you trail off, clearing your throat before continuing. “I don’t hate it, I’m just not fond of it.”

“I’m jealous you got to see Charles and Carlos race, I would love to see it in something other than a rerun,” you school your face, unaware she read your diaries.

“I can’t say I paid much attention back then,” you smoothly lie.

“Anyway, I have another surprise. I won this contest and got us these,” she leans in to quietly show you, knowing everyone around you would kill for what is in her hands.

“Wow, I’m so happy for you, you’ve wanted that for years,” you beam. Normally you would request to sit this weekend out, but you vowed to give your daughter everything and to never miss an experience with her. Sometimes that means doing something you’d rather not do.

Thankfully for you, your daughter did plenty of research and you got in early which meant more time to explore and enjoy your exclusive paddock passes.

“Let’s do the tour first,” she suggests, typing away at her phone before shoving it into her pocket. You are dragged in a direction before you can say anything. It’s her day anyway, you can’t say anything.

“And this is the Ferrari team hospitality, we will pause here for pictures,” the tour guy says and you try to quell your anxieties as you take photos of your daughter.

“Excuse me, are you Alessandra Rossi. I wanted to meet the winner of our competition,” a smooth voice says from beside you. Your heart drops to your stomach, you might puke right here. The group fills with excited whispers as your daughter’s eyes light up.

“I am, could I get a picture?” she is practically shaking with excitement.

“Of course,” she quickly moves towards him and you turn to take the picture, eyes trained on the phone.

“Is this your sister?” he asks, a smile on his face as you take the pictures.

“My beautiful mother,” Alessandra beams with pride as your heart swells with love.

“Well, seeing as you are guests of Ferrari this weekend, why don’t I give you two a tour of our hospitality,” he peels the two of you off from the tour group, bringing you inside.

“Will all due respect, don’t you have anything better to do than show us around? You are team principal,” she asks as you step inside. You want to shrivel up and die.

“I will always make time for two beautiful ladies,” his sunglasses now dangle from the unbuttoned collar, leaving his blue eyes to look into yours. That smile that once left you swooning now makes you want to punch him.

Alessandra looks between you two. She looked up photos of you two online and you looked so happy together, and everything you wrote in your diary only proved that. You never explained what ended it, so she assumed that it was amicable. The tension between you is anything but.

You look like you are about to leave, so Alessandra quickly replies.

“Well, you are busy so let’s get started,” she diffuses the situation.

“How old are you?” he asks, turning his focus to your daughter as you glare at the back of his head. Stupidly perfect hair looking better than it did at 22.

“I’m 16,” so she isn’t his daughter. Your relationship ended before that point.

“This is my office, that I don’t spend as much time in as I would like,” he chuckles, door clicking shut behind him.

“Was this planned?” you speak for the first time, feeling a little attacked as your daughters eyes widen slightly.

“Y/n,” he starts to speak and Alessandra jumps in.

“I really did win it, but I did bring you to the race under false pretenses. I hoped maybe we would run into him, and you seemed so happy together all those years ago. I don’t know, I thought something would click. You’ve been single since before I was born and he divorced a few years ago,” she trails off as the hurt in your eyes is evident.

“Y/n,” he starts again, reaching for you.

“Stop it, Charles. I don’t want to hear a word you said, not after the last time,” your words are final as your flight instinct kicks in. You turn towards your daughter, fighting the hurt in you. “Enjoy the rest of your tour. I’ll be in our seats when you return, I love you,” you always tell her that even when angry. It’s important that she knows you do even when upset.

“I’m sorry, mamma. I love you too.”

Charles watches as you quickly exit and collapses in his chair, feeling hopeless. His world stopped spinning when he saw you. You hadn’t changed at all, you still look like the 20 year old girl who spent a summer full of love with him. It killed him to hear he wasn’t the father of your daughter, a part of him hoped she was his.

“I’m so sorry, Signore Leclerc,” your daughter is quick to apologize.

“Don’t be, I should apologize to you. I didn’t know I was sore subject between you two,” Charles runs a hand through his hair, inviting her to sit down.

“Truthfully she never mentioned you, even when she said she didn’t like racing,” Alessandra says. Charles’ brows furrow in confusion.

“She doesn’t like racing? She was the biggest tifosi I knew, especially once we- um. You know, that shirt she is wearing is mine,” Charles points out.

“She always said she didn’t like it, that she didn’t pay attention,” Charles feels as if knives are being twisted in his chest. “What did happen between you?”

“I lied to her. I was dating this girl before I met you mother and we were on a break at the time. We had been for a few months and I fell in love even when I didn’t plan on it. Your mom found messages from her saying that she was ready to end the break and get together again. At that point I had basically forgotten about the whole break thing, but your mother isn’t one to forgive and forget. She broke up with me then and there, kicked me out, and I eventually got back together with my ex wife,” Charles explains.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, unsure what to say.

“It’s okay, everything happens for a reason. I got a beautiful summer and without me messing up you wouldn’t have been born,” Charles points out.

“I think I messed up,” she looks to Charles for advice, as if she was asking her father.

“You did, but it’s okay. We all do, and she already forgave you. I could tell by the way she left,” Charles does his best to comfort Alessandra. He isn’t used to parental actions, he deals with adults.

“But you just said she doesn’t forgive and forget?”

“I’m not her daughter. Everything is different when it comes to your child. She may be a little hurt, but she knows you thought you were helping. It will be okay.” Something about this feels so natural for Charles, like he’s meant to be a father figure.

“How do you know that?”

“I just do. I’m so sorry, I have a meeting with my drivers. Feel free to enjoy what our hospitality has to offer. Stay as long as you’d like. Here’s my business card, let me know if you need anything, this weekend and beyond,” Charles hands the card to Alessandra before leaving her alone in his office.

She sits across his chair for a moment, taking it all in. She knew Charles isn’t her father, so why did that hurt so much? Standing up, she shoves the card deep into her pocket and heads back to the snack area Charles pointed out earlier. That is until she accidentally runs into someone.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” her eyes widen as she recognizes who she ran into.

“That’s okay. I haven’t seen you around, are you lost?” Ollie asks, brows furrowed as he takes in the young girl’s appearance.

“Take a left out that door and it leads you back to the paddock,” Kimi adds on. She may not have seen Charles and Carlos race together or Charles and Lewis, but this duo is another level.

“I’ve been looking for you two everywhere. Why must I always hunt you down for our meeting?” Charles sighs from the doorway. “We might as well do it here,” he sits at the table.

“Sorry, we were hungry,” Kimi apologizes as Alessandra is just frozen in her spot.

“You can stay too, Alessandra. Think of it as an apology for earlier,” Charles’s tense smile does nothing to ease her out of place feeling. “She is an old family friend,” Charles quickly explains, it’s a lie but saying she’s my ex’s daughter isn’t a better explanation.

“That’s alright, I should get back to my mom. I don’t want her alone for too long. It was nice meeting you,” Alessandra makes a swift exit, following Kimi’s earlier directions and retracing the steps of the paddock tour.

“How was the rest of your tour?” you ask as she sits beside you.

“It was okay, would’ve been better if you were with me. Sorry for putting you in that situation,”

“You had good intentions, and I shouldn’t have left when I did,” you reply, never mad at your daughter.

“I do have a question for you. Did you love him?” Alessandra knows the answer, but she needs to hear it from you.

“I loved him with every fiber of my being,” the truth hurts more than it should. Admitting it twists the knife in your heart that you never removed.

“Do you still love him?” she presses, asking you to face your feelings from earlier. You can’t come up with an answer, and maybe that’s an answer in itself. It would be so easy to deny it. Your silence tells her what she needs to know.

When you step away to use the restroom, Alessandra pulls out the business card, sending off a text and a prayer.

The race itself is exhilarating, especially watching a Ferrari one-two. You can’t even help yourself from joining the crowds and singing along. To have an Italian on the top step with an Italian team in Italy, it’s the nations greatest dream and you saw it happen.

“Was that everything you wanted and more?” you ask on the train back to the vacation rental, back to somewhere you don’t have to think about Charles.

“It was everything, that you for being here. I know it was hard,” Alessandra hugs you tight.

“I would do anything for you,” you kiss her head, squeezing tight before letting go.

“Oh, Nonna just booked us a dinner tomorrow, I forgot to tell you,” you hum in response, deep in thought.

What would have happened if you never kicked Charles out? Maybe you would be divorced, like he is now. Maybe he was the one and you forced him to leave. Maybe you would have an extremely happy life together. Any way you wouldn’t have Alessandra, and you wouldn’t change that.

The train ride flies by and you are back at the lake house.

“There’s a basket outside the door,” you bend down and pick up the card.

I’m sorry for scaring you off. You are just as beautiful as the day I met you and the day we said goodbye. Maybe one day we will meet again. - C +39 xxx xxx xxx

“What’s it say?” Alessandra asks, peering over your shoulder.

“Doesn’t matter,” you pocket the note and carry the basket inside.

Alessandra knows who it’s from, but she didn’t expect a note. All she did was help set up a dinner and provide the address. Nerves wreck her gut as you disappear to your room, shutting the door behind you. Who knew playing matchmaker for a parent was such a hard task.

You lay on your bed, staring at the note and an open text message on your phone. Charles changed his number and you changed yours in the years that passed between then and now. You both have lived life, no longer the wide eyed kids who thought they could take on the world. You practically raised a kid and Charles did a lot of growing up himself in the last seventeen years.

You type what feels like a hundred different things before deleting it all and setting the note and your phone down.

“What am I doing?” you whisper to yourself. You have a kid who deserves one hundred percent of your attention, you don’t have time to involve yourself with anyone. Plus, it’s Charles. He’s like a god in Italy, and you are you. A single mom who works a boring 9-5 to put food on the table and a roof for over your heads. You made yourself a promise so many years ago to never trust a man with your heart, all they do is break it. Even Charles and his pretty eyes, those dimples, and a smile that makes you melt more than a hot summer day.

You pick up your phone again, typing out one message and hitting send.

What are your intentions? It’s been years, why now?

Is it not enough to have missed you since the moment I left?

I realized I couldn’t let you go again, not without a fight

You want to reply, but you can’t seem to find the words. It’s not that simple, you aren’t 20 anymore. Forgive and forget doesn’t come easily to you, and Charles did his part to increase your distrusting nature.

Do you have it in you to give him one more chance?

Across the house, Alessandra does her best to play matchmaker. She loves being the daughter of a single mom, you’ve raised her as best as you could, but Alessandra can’t help but to daydream about Charles being her father. It seemed so easy, so natural in his office. And she would do anything to see you happy.

Charles never gets a response from you, making him second guess everything. Similarly to you, he lays in a hotel room overthinking every word he types out. He’d do anything to go back in time and change how he handled his relationships. Maybe you’d have a family together with kids running around the paddock. A part of him wants so badly to join your family. Alessandra has clearly been raised well and you seem like a wonderful mother.

You and Charles fall asleep waiting for some miracle message that will answer all your doubts and questions. A message that never comes and leaves the two of you waking up to a twinge of sadness.

The morning sun streams through the window and you head out for a run. You used to hate running but it was a nice way to clear your mind when facing hard times while Alessandra was growing up so it stuck. There’s no reason that it wouldn’t help with yesterday’s situation.

You come to a stop at the backyard of the rental that overlooks the lake. Footsteps gently crush the earth as they near you, but you don’t turn. Instead you sit down, watching the early sun glisten off the water tranquilly. Your guest sits beside you, neither of you immediately saying a thing as to not disturb the peace.

“Do you remember that morning in Monaco?”

“When we fell asleep on the boat and work up thinking we were adrift at sea,” your lips quirk up into a smile at the memory before falling as you turn to look at the man beside you. “What are you doing here?”

“Making things right,” he answers, eyes meeting yours sincerely. You feel like you are swallowing a rock.

“Charles…”

“One more chance. Please,” there’s a weight to his voice you haven’t heard since he was beginning for you to hear him out.

“It took me so long to forget you, to live without you,”

“I know I broke your trust and I shouldn’t have hidden the break from you. I resisted moving on from you until I knew you weren’t coming back again, but the moment I saw you again,” Charles pauses, quickly debating if it’s too early in the morning for this conversation. “I couldn’t let you go, not without a fight. It’s always been you. Only you,” Charles wants to sweep you into his arms and kiss you like he did on the boat that morning in Monaco after you both frantically ran around not realizing you had docked.

“I don’t know what to say,” your voice is quiet. The twenty year old in you wants to take him back - she would’ve taken an apology once things cooled off back then, if he had shown up to her doorstep and begged forgiveness - but the mom in you is hesitant. “How did you know where I was?” the fact dawns on you, you never told him where you are staying. But it doesn’t take you more than a second to connect those dots.

“Don’t be mad, she is doing what she thinks will make you happy,” Charles defends Alessandra, tugging on your heart string. “You did a wonderful job raising her, by the way. I’ve only known her a day and it’s so clear that she takes after you,” you want to beam with pride, gloat at how wonderful your daughter is.

“Thank you. It’s not easy,” You feel the warmth of Charles’ hand on top of yours, making your breath hitch and heart flutter as heat rises to your cheeks. You feel like a teenager.

“There’s no need to rush into anything. We are both at a place in our lives where slow is preferable,” Charles adds on.

“Let’s go for a walk,” you motion to the small wooded trail that leads down the hill to the lake.

“I don’t want to stay longer than I’m welcome,” Charles tells you, a little nervous that he’s pushing his luck.

“I can’t go into something casual anymore. I’m a mom. Anyone I date has to be comfortable with that, they have to understand that they take on both a partner and father role,” you explain.

“I understand. There is nothing I would love more than to be that for you,” you don’t know if he’s saying it to appease you or because he is honest.

“I just don’t know. I’ve been alone for so long, I don’t know if this is the right thing,” you admit, voice quiet as your chest is heavy. If you could figure out where you are personally, maybe you could give him an answer.

“What can I do? I could barely focus on the race, on my job, in Monza, knowing you were out there. Getting to talk to Alessandra, I can de myself taking a role there too. Father, mentor, friend, whatever you think is right,” Charles persists, fighting like he should have long before. You stop at the point where the shore meets the tree-line, not yet stepping out of the woods.

“I don’t know,” you shake your head, tears threatening to well in your eyes. It’s just you, Charles, the trees, and the water just down the path. The intimacy is both stressful and putting you at ease. Charles doesn’t speak yet, instead choosing to step closer and tentatively wrap his arms around you.

You subconsciously sink into his warmth, allowing yourself to remember what his touch feels like, that feeling of safety and peace. It clears your mind more than any morning run. It feels right, like pieces of a puzzle locking into place. Without much of a thought, his lips are on yours, reminding you why you missed him.

“One more chance,” you are a bit breathless and a bit in shock, but your mind has the answers it’s been looking for.

“I’m not letting you go this time.”

[jamesmcalover]

cinematic

Fred Hechinger x afab!reader

Warnings: fluff, awkwardness???

Summary: reader works at the cinema and a really cute blonde man walks in one day

3.5k words

Tiny pearls of sweat were beginning to run down my forehead, which I quickly wiped away with the sleeve of my work uniform. It hadn't been a busy day at all, but it was hot.

"They still haven't fixed the AC," I mumbled to Nick, my co-worker, who only shrugged his shoulders. He was busy filling up a bucket of popcorn for the customers he was currently serving.

It wasn't even a hot summer day, but it still felt like a sauna behind the counter. All the machines designed to keep the food warm also kept us warm, turning our workspace into a humid, sticky mess.

"Excuse me," someone said behind me. I turned around quickly, ready to put on my best customer service voice, only to freeze mid-sentence. A very pretty blonde man was standing in front of me. He was wearing a blue shirt with the Metro Goldwyn Mayer logo – the one with the Lion – on it. He must have really enjoyed movies. His eyes were a really pretty shade of blue that made it hard for me to focus.

I blinked, trying to shake the daze from my mind. Get it together, I reminded myself.

"Hi, how can I help you?" I asked, forcing a professional smile.

"Hey," he said, smiling. I noticed a small gap between his teeth. "Could you point me to Theater 4?"

The request was simple, but something about the way he asked it made me stumble over my words for a moment. I could feel his gaze lingering, as if he was waiting for me to answer, but all I could think was how familiar his face looked.

"Uh, sure," I said, shaking myself out of the moment. "It's down the hall, to your left. You can't miss it."

"Thanks," he said, smiling at me again. My heart skipped a beat.

He turned to walk away, and I found myself watching him go, that same nagging feeling settling at the back of my mind. Where did I know him from?

"Well that was awkward to watch," Nick's voice startled me, snapping me out of my daze.

I turned to look at him, my heart still fluttering from the interaction. "What do you mean?" I asked, trying to sound casual, though my voice betrayed me with an edge of uncertainty.

Nick gave me an amused look. "You were staring at him like a deer caught in headlights."

I flushed, feeling both embarrassed and annoyed. "I wasn't staring," I muttered, half-defensive, half-embarrassed.

"Uh-huh," Nick said, his grin widening. "So, you don't know who he is?"

I blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean? Should I?"

Nick's eyebrows shot up. "It's Fred Hechinger, dude. You seriously don't recognize him?"

I stared at Nick, confusion written all over my face. "Fred Hechinger?” The name didn’t ring any bells, and Nick could see my blank expression clearly.

"I thought you were a film nerd," Nick said, raising and eyebrow as I struggled to connect the dots. "His face is on every poster and screen in this building right now."

My gaze instinctively shifted towards the big infor screen advertising the newest movie, Gladiator II. The bold poster featured the man that I had just spoken to, alongside Pedro Pascal and Paul Mescal.

"You really didn't recognize him?" Nick asked.

I felt my cheeks heat up as the realization hit. "I… I mean, I thought he looked familiar, but I wasn't sure," I admitted, flustered. "No wonder I couldn't stop staring. I bet he thinks I'm some weird fan."

My stomach flipped at the thought. I'd been acting like an awkward idiot in front of a pretty well-known actor without even realizing who he was.

Nick smirked. "Well, if you're gonna act like a fan girl, at least do it when I'm not watching."

"Shut up," I muttered, rolling my eyes. I still couldn't shake the feeling that I'd made a total fool of myself. "I didn't know, okay?"

The rest of my shift dragged on in boring monotony after the brief encounter. Nick had already clocked out, leaving me alone behind the counter. With the last movie nearing its end, I began cleaning up, wiping down the counters and restocking the shelves with candy.

The quiet hum of the soda machine and the muffled sound of a movie playing in one of the theaters were my only company. I tried not to think too much about earlier, but Fred's face kept popping into my mind.

I was deep in thought, wiping down the popcorn machine, when the sound of footsteps startled me. I turned around quickly, half expecting it to be my manager reminding me to lock up. Instead, it was him.

He looked slightly sheepish but undeniably charming, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat. "Hey," he said, his voice soft and a little hesitant.

"Oh," I stammered, caught completely off guard. "Hi. Um… Can I help you with anything?"

He smiled, one of those soft, slightly crooked smiles, and shook his head. "No just... thought I'd come back and... I don't know," he said, his gaze flickering down for a moment, like he was gathering his thoughts. "It's quieter now."

I blinked, caught off guard, then glancing around the empty lobby. "Oh yeah. We're almost closed," I replied, trying to sound casual, "How was the movie."

He ran a hand through his messy blonde hair, and shrugged. "It was good. A little intense, but I like that kind of stuff."

I tilted my head. "So, you're a movie buff?"

"Something like that," he said with a small grin. I looked at the poster on the wall behind him again. He looked nothing like the character in real life, his face was much friendlier, much more approachable. I knew that he was an actor now – thanks to Nick – but I didn't want him to know I knew.

"Have you seen Gladiator II yet? I heard it's a pretty good movie," I said, trying to act cool.

"Yeah," he replied, a slight laugh escaping. "A few times, actually."

"Oh, so you're one of those people who rewatch movies over and over again?" I teased lightly, folding my arms across my chest.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "You could say that. It's, uh, kind of a special project to me."

"Special how?" I asked, tilting my head again, genuinely curious.

He hesitated for a second, his grin faltering slightly, before shrugging. "It's the biggest movie I've ever been in."

I blinked at him, momentarily thrown off. I wasn't expecting him to admit it so casually. "Oh. You're... an actor."

"Yeah," he said, his grin turning slightly sheepish.

"That's, um, really cool. I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you earlier. I'm… kind of bad at keeping up with celebrities. I, uh... I'm Y/N, by the way."

"Fred," he said, offering a slightly crooked smile. "Nice to meet you, Y/N. And don't apologize, honestly, it's kind of refreshing. Most of the time, people either freak out or start asking for pictures."

"Guess I missed my chance to fangirl, huh?" I joked, trying to lighten the mood. He chuckled, and for a second I was distracted by how cute he was.

He tilted his head, his smile widening just a bit. "Well, since you missed your chance to fangirl, how about grabbing a drink instead?"

I blinked, not entirely sure I'd heard him right. "Wait… are you serious?"

"Yeah," he said with an easy shrug, though there was a hint of nervousness in his expression. "If you're free after your shift, of course. Unless you have better plans, like, I don't know, reorganizing popcorn buckets or something."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Reorganizing popcorn buckets is a pretty thrilling way to spend an evening, but I think I could make some time."

"Great," he said, his smile widening. "I'll wait."

"Wait, really?" I asked, startled.

"Yeah. Unless you'd rather bail," he teased, leaning back against the counter like he had all the time in the world.

Never in my life had I gotten things done so fast. I wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline of Fred watching me doing my work or excitement of knowing I was going to grab a drink with him – or both – but I managed to close up that cinema in record time.

As I grabbed my bag and headed toward the door, Fred straightened from where he'd been leaning against the counter, hands stuffed casually into his pockets. "Ready?"

I nodded, trying to suppress the nervous fluttering in my stomach. "Yeah. Do you have a place in mind?

He tilted his head, considering. "I passed a bar a couple of streets over on my way here. Looked low-key. How does that sound?"

"Perfect," I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

We stepped outside, and the cool night air was a relief after hours spent in the sauna-like heat of the cinema. The city felt hushed, the kind of quiet you only get after dark, punctuated by the distant sound of cars and the faint hum of streetlamps.

The walk was short, but I couldn't help stealing a few glances at him along the way. Under the soft glow of the streetlights, he looked so different from the posters plastered all over the cinema. Less polished, more real. And when he caught me staring, I felt a blush creep up my neck.

"You know," he said, a teasing edge to his voice, "I think you do recognize me."

I scoffed, looking away to hide my embarrassment. "I already told you I didn't."

"Mm-hmm," he hummed, clearly unconvinced.

"You don't mind hanging out with your local cinema employee, do you?" I joked after a brief pause, trying to ease the tension I felt rising in my chest.

Fred glanced at me, a small smile playing on his lips. "Not at all. You're better company than half the people I've met."

The bar wasn't crowded, which was a relief. The dim lighting and faint buzz of conversation made it feel intimate without being suffocating. Fred held the door open for me, and I thanked him, stepping inside and scanning for a spot to sit.

We slid into a booth near the back, and Fred leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "What would you like to drink?" He asked, so I scanned the menu quickly.

"I think I'll just go for a beer," I replied to which he nodded and excused himself to go over to the bar and get our drinks.

The faint hum of a jukebox lingered in the background, and the soft glow of fairy lights hanging above gave the place a cozy, low-key vibe.

When he came back with two ice-cold bottles of Heinecken, I thanked him.

"I could've payed myself, you know?" I said, offering him a playful smile.

He waved his hand dismissively, setting the bottle in front of me. "Don't worry about it."

"Is this what you usually do after a movie? Find a random bar and invite strangers?"

Fred smirked, shaking his head. "Nope. This is a first, actually."

"Oh, so I'm special, huh?" I teased, leaning back against the booth.

"Something like that," he replied, his grin widening.

For a moment, we just sat there, sipping our beers, and the comfortable silence felt surprisingly natural. This wasn't something that happened to me, not in real life. Actors didn't stroll back into empty cinemas to chat with nobodies like me. And yet, here he was, smiling across the table like this was the most natural thing in the world.

"So," he said, leaning back against the booth, his gaze settling on me. "You still haven't told me your movie recommendation. What's something you think I have to watch?"

I tilted my head, pretending to think hard. "Hmm… depends. Are you looking for something fun or something that'll emotionally destroy you?"

He chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Emotionally destroy me? Sounds intense."

"Sometimes you just have to sob hysterically over fictional characters," I said, almost laughing at myself for that weird comment.

Fred thought it was funny, though, and laughed, warm and genuine. "Okay, hit me. What's the most devastating one you've got?"

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table, and listed off a couple of films, my enthusiasm growing as I talked. He listened intently, his gaze fixed on me, and it was only when I stopped talking that I realized how closely he was watching me.

"What?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"Nothing," he said, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You just… really light up when you talk about this stuff. It's nice."

I felt my cheeks heat up and took a sip of my beer to hide my embarrassment. "Well, you are talking to a cinema employee. Movies are kind of my thing."

"And here I thought this was just your day job," he teased, his tone light.

"Well, it is," I said, laughing. "But it doesn't mean I don't love it."

He nodded, taking another sip of his drink. "I get that. It's nice when work doesn't feel like… well, just work."

"Exactly," I said, smiling. "And you? What's the best part of your job?"

Fred hesitated, his expression softening as he thought about it. "I think it's when people connect with something I've done. Like, when they tell me a character or a story meant something to them. That's pretty special."

I nodded, leaning forward slightly. "That makes sense. And I guess playing an emperor probably didn't hurt, huh?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "So, you did recognise me!"

I felt my face getting red and hot immediately. "I'm sorry, I just- I didn't wanna seem like some weird fan. I've probably made it really worse now, though."

Fred's smile softened, and his eyes held mine for a moment longer than I expected. "I think it's cute."

My face burned even more, and I ducked my head, letting out a nervous laugh. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"I'm not," he replied, still grinning as he took another sip of his beer. "It's nice. Refreshing, even. You don't get that a lot in this business – people pretending they do't know you."

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. "To be fair, I actually didn't know at first!"

"Which is even better," he teased, his voice warm with amusement. "Honest confusion. It's a rare thing."

I peeked at him through my fingers before lowering my hands with an embarrassed smile. "Well, good. I'll just keep being 'refreshing,' then."

"If you had recognized me, what would you have done? Freaked out? Asked for an autograph?" He asked with a playful grin and I laughed, shaking my head. "No way. I probably just would've stared at you more than I aready did and made it even more awkward. You know, like a real professional."

He laughed too, the sound bright and genuine. "Well, I'm glad you didn't. I like this version of you better."

The way he said it, so casual but sincere, sent a flutter through my chest. I smiled, trying to play it cool. "You don't even know me yet."

He tilted his head, his expression soft. "Then let's change that."

And just like that, I felt the flutter again, stronger this time. I leaned back in my seat, trying to suppress the goofy grin threatening to spread across my face. "Alright, Fred. What do you want to know?"

"Everything," he replied simply, his tone light, but his eyes serious.

For a moment, I just stared at him, caught off guard by his answer, but I couldn't stop myself from smiling. "That’s a tall order."

He shrugged, leaning back with a playful smirk. "We've got time."

And somehow, sitting there in that dimly lit bar with a half-empty beer in my hand and Fred Hechinger watching me like I was the most interesting thing in the room, I believe him. There was something about the way he looked at me – like I wasn't just another face in the crowd – that made me feel seen, and it scared me how much I liked it.

I don't remember how long we sat there, lost in conversation. The bar seemed to dim around us, the hum of other patrons fading into the background until it was just the two of us, trading stories like old friends.

Eventually, the bartender gave us a look that said it was time to go. I glanced at my phone, surprised at how late it had gotten. "I should probably catch the last train," I said, half-apologetic.

Fred stood with me, pulling on his coat. "I'll walk you."

"You don't have to do that," I replied, but he was already waiting by the door.

Outside, the city felt different – quieter, softer, as if the night itself had been holding its breath for us. The walk to the train station wasn't long, but it stretched just enough to let the silence settle between us, comfortable and charged.

When we reached the stairs leading down to the platform, I turned to him. "Well… thanks for tonight. I had fun."

Fred smiled, hands shoved in his pockets. "Me too." And there it was again. The way he looked at me, steady and unassuming, like he wasn't in a rush to let the moment end.

He reached a hand out to my face. I noticed it slightly shaking. He carefully brushed a single strand of hair, I haven't even noticed it was in my eyelashes, out of my face.

"Sorry," he murmured, his voice softer now, almost as if he was afraid to break the quiet between us. His hand lingered for half a second before he pulled it back, tucking it into his pocket again. The corner of his mouth twitched into a sheepish smile, and I wondered if his heart was racing as much as mine.

I swallowed, my heart fluttering at the unexpected closeness. "It's okay."

I tried to find something to say, anything to fill the space, but my mind felt blank—too full of the way his touch had made my breath hitch.

The streetlamp above us cast a warm glow, and in its light, he looked almost unsure.

"I should–"

"I want to see you again," he interrupted, his voice gentle but firm.

My breath caught, and for a moment, all I could do was stare at him. He looked so certain, like it wasn't even a question worth hesitating over.

"I mean… if you'd want to," he added, the confidence faltering just slightly.

I couldn't stop the smile that tugged at my lips. "Yeah," I said softly, my pulse quickening. "I think I'd like that."

Fred's face lit up with a grin, one so genuine it made my stomach flip. "Good."

For a moment, we just stood there, neither of us moving. It felt like the kind of moment you didn't want to break, like holding onto it a little longer might make it last forever.

But the distant rumble of the approaching train reminded me that time didn't wait. I shifted, glancing toward the stairs. "I should probably..."

Fred nodded, his grin softening into something more thoughtful. "Yeah." He hesitated, then added, "Text me when you get home?"

Before I could respond, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled receipt from the bar we were just in. He smoothed it out awkwardly, then handed it to me. I took it, unfolding the paper to find his number scrawled across it in slightly messy handwriting.

I smiled, feeling a flutter in my chest. For some reason, this felt like the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me. It meant he’d been thinking about giving me his number back at the bar. "I will."

He stepped back just enough to give me space, his hands back in his coat pockets. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Fred."

I turned and descended the steps, the sound of the train growing louder with each step. At the platform, I glanced back one last time. He was still there at the top of the stairs, silhouetted against the glow of the streetlamp. He raised a hand in a small wave, and I waved back just as the train doors slid open.

As I sank into a seat by the window, the night’s events played over in my head like scenes from a movie, too perfect to feel real. But as the train pulled away, I couldn't stop the smile spreading across my face.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁

part 2!! <3

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Cognitive Bias

Cognitive Bias - a strong, preconceived notion of someone or something, based on information we have, perceive to have, or lack.

These preconceptions are mental shortcuts the human brain produces to expedite information processing—to quickly help it make sense of what it is seeing.

The many types of cognitive biases serve as systematic errors in a person’s subjective way of thinking, which originate from that individual’s own perceptions, observations, or points of view.

There are different types of bias people experience that influence and affect the way we think and behave, as well as our decision-making process.

Examples of Cognitive Bias

Confirmation bias. This type of bias refers to the tendency to seek out information that supports something you already believe, and is a particularly pernicious subset of cognitive bias—you remember the hits and forget the misses, which is a flaw in human reasoning. People will cue into things that matter to them, and dismiss the things that don’t, often leading to the “ostrich effect,” where a subject buries their head in the sand to avoid information that may disprove their original point.

The Dunning-Kruger Effect. This particular bias refers to how people perceive a concept or event to be simplistic just because their knowledge about it may be simple or lacking—the less you know about something, the less complicated it may appear. However, this form of bias limits curiosity—people don’t feel the need to further explore a concept, because it seems simplistic to them. This bias can also lead people to think they are smarter than they actually are, because they have reduced a complex idea to a simplistic understanding.

In-group bias. This type of bias refers to how people are more likely to support or believe someone within their own social group than an outsider. This bias tends to remove objectivity from any sort of selection or hiring process, as we tend to favor those we personally know and want to help.

Self-serving bias. A self-serving bias is an assumption that good things happen to us when we’ve done all the right things, but bad things happen to us because of circumstances outside our control or things other people purport. This bias results in a tendency to blame outside circumstances for bad situations rather than taking personal responsibility.

Availability bias. Also known as the availability heuristic, this bias refers to the tendency to use the information we can quickly recall when evaluating a topic or idea—even if this information is not the best representation of the topic or idea. Using this mental shortcut, we deem the information we can most easily recall as valid, and ignore alternative solutions or opinions.

Fundamental attribution error. This bias refers to the tendency to attribute someone’s particular behaviors to existing, unfounded stereotypes while attributing our own similar behavior to external factors. For instance, when someone on your team is late to an important meeting, you may assume that they are lazy or lacking motivation without considering internal and external factors like an illness or traffic accident that led to the tardiness. However, when you are running late because of a flat tire, you expect others to attribute the error to the external factor (flat tire) rather than your personal behavior.

Hindsight bias. Hindsight bias, also known as the knew-it-all-along effect, is when people perceive events to be more predictable after they happen. With this bias, people overestimate their ability to predict an outcome beforehand, even though the information they had at the time would not have led them to the correct outcome. This type of bias happens often in sports and world affairs. Hindsight bias can lead to overconfidence in one’s ability to predict future outcomes.

Anchoring bias. The anchoring bias, also known as focalism or the anchoring effect, pertains to those who rely too heavily on the first piece of information they receive—an “anchoring” fact— and base all subsequent judgments or opinions on this fact.

Optimism bias. This bias refers to how we as humans are more likely to estimate a positive outcome if we are in a good mood.

Pessimism bias. This bias refers to how we as humans are more likely to estimate a negative outcome if we are in a bad mood.

The halo effect. This bias refers to the tendency to allow our impression of a person, company, or business in one domain influence our overall impression of the person or entity. For instance, a consumer who enjoys the performance of a microwave that they bought from a specific brand is more likely to buy other products from that brand because of their positive experience with the microwave.

Status quo bias. The status quo bias refers to the preference to keep things in their current state, while regarding any type of change as a loss. This bias results in the difficulty to process or accept change.

How to Reduce Cognitive Bias

Even though cognitive biases are pervasive throughout every system, there are ways to address your bias blind spots:

Be aware. The best way to prevent cognitive bias from influencing the way you think or make decisions is by being aware that they exist in the first place. Critical thinking is the enemy of bias. By knowing there are factors that can alter the way we see, experience, or recall things, we know that there are additional steps we must take when forming a judgment or opinion about something.

Challenge your own beliefs. Once you’re aware that your own thinking is heavily biased, continuously challenge the things you believe is a good way to begin the debiasing process—especially when receiving new information. This can help you expand your pool of knowledge, giving you a greater understanding of the subject matter.

Try a blind approach. Especially in the case of observer bias, researchers conduct blind studies to reduce the amount of bias in scientific studies or focus groups. By limiting the amount of influential information a person or group of people receive, they can make less affected decisions.

Biases make it difficult for people to exchange accurate information or derive truths.

A cognitive bias distorts our critical thinking, leading to possibly perpetuating misconceptions or misinformation that can be damaging to others.

Biases lead us to avoid information that may be unwelcome or uncomfortable, rather than investigating the information that could lead us to a more accurate outcome.

Biases can also cause us to see patterns or connections between ideas that aren’t necessarily there.

Logical Fallacy vs. Cognitive Bias

Cognitive biases are often confused with logical fallacies.

A cognitive bias refers to how our internal thinking patterns affect how we understand and process information.

A logical fallacy refers to an error in reasoning that weakens or invalidates an argument.

Cognitive biases are systematic errors in a person’s subjective way of thinking, while logical fallacies are about the errors in a logical argument.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[vershl]

Okay I think I made y'all wait long enough LOL

SORRY THEY'RE ALL UNCLOTHED BTW, I HAVENT FIGURED OUT OUTFITS YET- 💀

I don't really have a lot to share tbh in terms of lore/plans. This AU is very VERY fresh in my brain atm. But I will fill in some details for you guys so you somewhat/mostly understand the current characters I have for now.

---

Shadow

He is a red diamond (ultimate lifeform yada yada), and as stated, a "blood" diamond. I mean this somewhat in modern terms, but not entirely. In real life, diamonds mined in a war zone and sold to fund the costs, hence "blood". In this case; Shadow was created by the other diamonds (primarily white) as a weapon, the plan was to have a gem on equal footing in terms of strength and power that they could order around to do their bidding and do their dirty work.

Clearly, that didn't work out the way they wanted. Shadow pretended to be obedient, following white, and the other diamond's orders. He shattered other gems for whatever reason the diamonds deemed fit (among other things I haven't decided on yet), only doing so to avoid the risk of being deemed defective and shattered himself, or the gem being shattered regardless by someone else.. he at least knew he could give them a swift end without pain.

Once Shadow gained the diamonds trust to wander around as he pleased, the moment no one was looking, he stole a ship and left Homeworld. Going as far as he could into the universe until he found Mobius and crash landed there. It wasn't very long before Sonic found him, and eventually became allies, inviting Shadow into the Crystal Gems, to which he accepted, and chose the name 'Shadow'. He didn't want to be called 'Red' or 'Red Diamond' anymore. He was free now. (This is as far as I got with him, sorry y'all HAHA)

Sonic

Sonic is a yellow prism in the shape of an isotoxal star (the yellow is a nod to super Sonic). In my AU, because offical SU lore with gems is relatively limited, different colored gems even if of the same type, give different abilities/powers. In Sonic's case, yellow prisms give the ability of super speed, because of course, and he chose his name based on that fact as well.

Lore wise with Sonic-- He's the leader of the Crystal Gems (makes more sense considering the CG's signature symbol is a yellow star, so I just ran with that but changed the normal star to the isotoxal). But that's all I have for him.

the rest of these characters have 0 lore at all, i will just try to explain their gems a bit- sorry

Amy

Amy is a Mimetite, a heart stone which helps with emotional stability, inner balance, serenity, joy, and adventure (according to google). Because Amy is basically canonically that 'therapy' friend, mimetite fits perfectly with her personality. As you can see, there are only a few designs that have weapons currently, Amy's being obvious because it's her signature weapon and just works here in the AU as well.

Tails

Tails is a yellow peridot, it's obvious why, and I don't need to elaborate LOL. There isn't much different between peridot colors, it's more-so personality traits than abilities. Green peridots are quite egotistical and arrogant in themselves, while yellow peridots are more adventurous and selfless.

Knuckles

Sorry for his naked hands btw. Honestly, I don't think I have to explain why Knuckles is a garnet. It just tracks. (Reminder that in the show, Garnet isn't a real garnet, it's just what she decided to call herself. In this case, Knuckles IS a real garnet.) Is his signature gem weapon gauntlets/gloves, yes. Did I steal the idea from Garnet? Shut up. :] Besides, Knuckles needed his usual gloves somehow, and he fights by punching shit anyway, so why not? Star on the back of the gloves ofc for obvious reasons.

Rouge

GOD this stupid bat bitch, aaaanyway, ahem. In my AU beryls are information gatherers, either by stealing it or manipulating their way into obtaining it. Beryls are generally under diamond control and report back to their assigned diamond with information they demand for, obviously Rouge is part of the Crystal Gems, so she gathers information for them. And more often than not...is her usual self, and snoops around, digging up dirty secrets/information about her comrades and teases them to no end with it (Shadow being her favorite to torment for... reasons.)

Silver

I chose Silver to be a sapphire simply because of the fact that in the Sonic universe, he can time travel. So instead of time travel in this Steven Universe AU, he gets future vision. I mean it works, right?

Blaze

We can talk about her gem right.. right? It's really tasty and I want to eat it. So; opals are very, VERY rare (which fits with her whole being a princess thing or whatever). She was originally going to be a fire opal... that is until I found out about dragon's breath opals and changed my mind. Blaze is an absurdly rare gem, who knows, maybe even the only one of her cut. :]

Her gem gives her the ability to control fire as a weapon, and her unique cut gives her fire more power as well as makes the flames an unusual pinkish hue.

---

And that's everyone for now! I'm doing some little doodles that I might post a bit later on to compile together, but you can have the two I made of Shadow for now. eats him

[hakugin0]

[ Leviathan/MC fankids ]

These kids have managed to singlehandedly brain rot me so hard it's not even a joke anymore. Look at my granddaughter and grandson and forgive me for how annoying I will be about the in the near future BUT HOW COULD I NOT LOVE THEM 😭💞 in shambles, on the floor, losing it (extra infor under cut

Heritors of Envy aka Levi/MC children, they both have human and demon names (express request of their mother)

Viola 'Vinea'

First Daughter all around

The 'proper' heir, though with how long demons live who even knows

About 80% Levi, stoic, beautiful and obsessed with being perceived as perfect (certain nobles fear their jobs prospects since she started helping)

As a child told one of the Nobles she would marry him when she's big if he takes his job (place bets on who it was); said demon was not strangled on the spot only because he was holding her

Doesn't have a coffin per se, her contract with an eldritch monster is a bit special

Ran 'Raum'

Levi's second child but 3rd(technically 4th) all around

Disinterested in the throne, would rather be Hades' adorable mascot to be dotted and fawned on

Doesn't mean he's not as scheming and intelligent as his sister, if not more

Adorable and he knows it, needs everyone to love and adore him and will stop at nothing (he does pick fights with Orias about who's cuter): he can be slightly clingy but knows when to do it and when not to

Does not yet have a coffin, but he's mildly clairvoyant so he knows which creature will eventually answer him

President of the 'monopolize mom's attention' association that MC's children have jointly formed against their fathers

[hollowed-theory-hall]

hi! What do you think of the Marauders dynamic? Who are their favorites in the group? Did Peter like them? Did Remus and Peter like Harry? Did Peter regret what he did to James?

Hello!

Talked about it here, and I think their dynamic is a little more complicated than that. I think Peter liked (or at least looked up to) them, but he didn't love them. As for regrets... I think Peter lives in regret. Not just about James, but about how everything turned out. Like, I don't think he was happy about James and Lily's death, but, to him, it was an easy choice.

He was a coward, fighting on the losing side of a war, and while he liked his friends, he wanted to live more. So he started feeding Voldemort information, and I'm sure at first it wasn't James and Lily's location, but smaller pieces of infor about the Order and their missions, and Dumbledore. But when the time came, he gave Voldemort what he could because it seemed like the safer option. But it all turned out for the worst for him, I mean, he lived as a rat for 12 years! I think he regrets that. I think, in retrospect, he's been wondering "what if" for years. I think he did regret it in retrospect, but when he couldn't stay safe at Hogwarts/with the Weasleys, he did what he always did best — ran to hide behind the strongest bully. His regrets weren't enough to save Harry from the graveyard, even if Peter probably would've rather not been there. I think he had many regrets, but never enough to change his choices. I think, by DH, all these "what ifs" flashed before his eyes when he saw Harry in Malfoy Manor. And he hesitated just long enough for his new hand to consider him a traitor.

I'm not even sure what Peter would've done if he had more time to make a choice there. His first priority has always been himself, so it's possible he would've helped Harry if he thought Harry had a chance to win and make Peter's life better in the process.

I just think it's possible to not like doing something, to regret it, to feel the guilt of killing your friends, and choose to do it anyway. Repeatedly. It's something I like about Peter. That he knows exactly what he did, and he regrets some of it to a degree, but not enough to change most of his choices. But it is enough to make him hesitate.

[alexbkrieger13]

https://www.tv4.se/artikel/tt-250602-nldanmark1-6b433096/harder-infor-avgorandet-skont-att-slippa-magda

Harder before the decision: Nice to be free from Magda

Updated:Today 12:00Published:Today 12:00

Magdalena Eriksson will miss the Nations League final against Denmark.

Happiest about it? Partner Pernille Harder.

It will be nice to avoid this duel between us, says the Danish star.

Sweden will advance to the Nations League semi-finals with at least a draw. Denmark needs to win to secure a place in the autumn playoffs.

Tuesday's Nordic football derby at Strawberry Arena in Solna is a group final in the truest sense of the word. And then Danish veteran striker Pernille Harder is happy about a Swedish suspension.

Tough melee lately

Magdalena Eriksson, Harder's life partner and teammate at Bayern Munich, received a warning in Friday's 0-0 match against Italy and will watch the match with Denmark from the stands.

It's actually very nice. We were supposed to have played three games against each other in a short time, now it's only two anyway, says Pernille Harder.

The countries will also face each other in the European Championship premiere on July 4. In the first Nations League meeting, when Sweden won 2-1 in February, there were several tough duels between striker Harder and center back Eriksson.

As a football player, it's nice that "Magda" won't be playing. But also to avoid these duels between us.

Photo: Bo Amstrup/Ritzau Scanpix/TT

"Snowy yellow card"

The yellow card against Italy came when Magdalena Eriksson sent a high kick at face level at an Italian defender.

"It's a really stupid yellow card, but I understand that I'm getting it. There's nothing wrong with it. I knew straight away what it meant. It's of course really sad," says Eriksson.

Now she has to try to inspire courage in her blue-and-yellow teammates from the sidelines. Not a favorite pastime, admits the Bayern Munich defender.

When you sit on the sidelines, there is more nervousness and you have less control. I will still support the team in everything I can. Now someone else will get to play and will do great. I will push the team and help them as much as possible.

In Eriksson's absence, there is much evidence that Linda Sembrant, also at Bayern Munich last season, will take the place as center back next to Chelsea's Nathalie Björn.

Sweden–Denmark kicks off at 7:30 p.m. on Tuesday evening.

[juregim]

oh so i have no choice but to wipe them all out unless i wanna go the evil route? i think?

ugh this battle was so stressful because i’m scared the locals are going to hear and will find out im big fat liar!! idk how ill get out of here at this point… i think we’re gonna have to clean house and kill everyone?

[noname-nonartist]

Hey, it's me again.

Do you have any more Miwa crumbs you're interested in sharing?

Miwa, our Bi-disaster queen~ XD

Yeah! I don’t mind sharing more infor about Kasumi within my AU! :Dc

(More under the cut)

Kasumi Miwa

DOB: 4/4 School: Kamiyama High School

Height: 168 cm School Year: Class 2-C

Hobbies: Saving Money

Speciality: Able to accurately tell what ingredients were used within a dish through taste

Fav Food: Stew

Least Fav Food: Chinese Parsley

Dislikes: Overspending

Kasumi Miwa lives in the outskirts of Vivid Street with her mother and two younger brothers, she started working part-time at the WEEKEND GARAGE 2 years before the main story.

Her family are definitely less financially stable, hence Ken would always give Kasumi additional food that she can bring home for free.

During her last year of Junior High School, she met Kokichi Muta, who was her classmate.

While Kokichi did kept his distance, they do eat together during lunch and he occasionally walk her to work.

Shortly within the year, Kokichi was unable to attend school due to his Chronic Kidney Disease reaching stage 3. However, Kasumi visits Kokichi every week and would try her best to cheer him up. (Yes, she does fell in love with him just like in jjk lol)

She met Toge Inumaki first, due to him living in Vivid Street a year before she worked at the cafe live bar. At first Kasumi didn’t interact with him too much due to how busy she was while working. But they hanged out more often once Toge and her are within the same class when attending Kamiyama.

Of course she also knows An Shiraishi, she enjoys her company and is always grateful whenever she helps out at the cafe, but she always view An as her Boss’s daughter.

She eventually met Maki when An first brought her in the cafe near her closing shift. Seeing her situation, she made a specialist tea that she’s been experimenting a bit on, in hopes to help Maki feels more relaxed.

Kasumi also knows the regulars at the Cafe as well, such as Guiying (Panda), Akito, Toya, Kinji, and Kirara.

Kasumi was honestly surprised how welcoming and supportive the community within Vivid Street is, for when she first worked at the WEEKEND GARAGE she was scared to work within such a “dangerous” area. Doesn’t help that her mother also drill in this thought into her as well. But that quickly changed once she started working there for she’s genuinely having such a good time at work, something she didn’t expected.

During her visits with Kokichi she meets Saki Tenma, who’s “KoKi’s hospital Buddy!”, her words not Kasumi’s lol.

One day (a couple months before the events of the main story) Saki, Kokichi, and Miwa went on a whole day trip to Fukuoka to visit the Gundam theme park. And doing all the things Kokichi wasn’t able to do in a long time due to his hospitalization. How were they able to do this? With the hospital permission? Well… let just say that they weren’t supposed to go so far heheh.

But they had so much fun and took so many pictures throughout the day, and they were able to come back to the hospital with the lie of them just walking around the park. Tsukasa was there to help with the lie too via being the “alibi” ;3c

#best big bro ever. helping ya younger sister sneak out of the hospital heh

A month before the main story, Kokichi have to go back to his hometown, due to a hospital transfer. Thus Kasumi can no longer be able to visit him. However, he promises that he will send letters to her. In which, Kasumi would joke “Why Letters? Are you secretly an old man?”, that got a chuckle out of him. He just replied that he’s more comfortable with writing letters than through text. He is awful at responding to texts in a timely manner.

Thus, Kokichi leaves as Kasumi waits for a letter from him.

She would receive the letter from Kokichi during the event of the main story. Unfortunately. It would be the last letter from him.

Thank you again for the ask! So glad ya interested in my AU! >v<

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

The Stranger: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Summary: When an unsub is killing young women in San Diego, your team is called in before he can rack up the number of victims. He's targeting babysitters and it's your job to figure out why. Meanwhile, Frank ups the pressure on you and Spencer, something that will definitely put a wedge in your relationship.

Season Six Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If any warnings exceed the normal deaths/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

"This guy knew the Ellisons were home, but he struck anyway. He could have taken out the entire family, but he chose to spare the mother and the child. Why?" Derek asks.

"With the Jenkins, the unsub actually fed the baby. Here, he spared the mother and locked her in a room with her son. It's like he's protecting the children. The addition of Jake caused the unsub to change his methodology. For the first time he posed the bodies, and he also sexually violated one of the victims," you say.

"Okay, we have a father posed to look at a dying babysitter and a mother and child protected upstairs. That's a pretty clear message."

"Garcia, search for local women who died in their early thirties and who are survived by a husband and at least one son. Go back ten to fifteen years," Hotch says. "Cross that with new marriage licenses filed by surviving husbands."

"The unsub's always been troubled, Garcia, so look for youthful offenders who would have fit into the sociopathic triad," Derek adds.

"Okay, I've got thirty matches which points to a disturbing social phenomenon and does not help us narrow this down."

"Cross-reference that with your list of newly-released inmates and mental patients."

"Okay, I've got a few. What about... Okay, here's one. Greg Phinney. He was put into juvie when he was thirteen for threatening his stepmom with a knife."

"What do we know about the stepmother?"

"Kate Jones, aka the second Mrs. Phinney. She married Greg's father a year after Greg's mother was killed in a car accident. Greg was eleven at the time. Mr. Phinney died four weeks ago."

"Is there any evidence that Kate worked in the Phinney home before the mother's death?" Hotch asks.

"Oh, the plot solidifies," she gasps. "Kate cited additional income as caregiver on her tax returns when she was a college student. Payments trace back to the Phinneys. Kate filed numerous reports against Greg for violent behavior and experimentation on animals. Greg's father finally put the kibosh on things when he was seventeen and had him institutionalized. Greg was released two weeks ago."

"Just before the killings started," you sigh.

"Garcia, where's Greg now?"

She sends the address over, and you immediately head over to the apartment complex. The manager dosn't question anything but does provide his manager's key to unlock his front door. With Derek's permission, he unlocks the door. The team shuffles in but it's empty. Greg isn't here. There isn't a lot of furniture and there is nothing on the walls. This guy doesn't care about materialistic things at all. Ijn the kitchen is a table with a single laptop on it, already open.

With a gloved hand, you press the mouse which wakes it up. On the screen is a log in for employees. Derek takes out his phone and calls Penelope.

"Baby girl, can you tell me why Greg's laptop has an employee login screen?"

"Well, lover, I have been doing some digging. Did you know that he's been working part-time as a data entry clerk at the San Diego Register?"

"If he was in an institution, where did he get time to find a job?" Spencer asks.

"He didn't even have to look. This job is part of his work-release program, and twenty hours of internet privileges will go a long way."

"That's how he finds his victims. He browses the classifieds. Did he have access to the customers' personal information?"

"Oh, honey, he entered it."

You look around the room and noticing something pinned to the wall with a knife. You walk closer to see it's a picture of a woman, who you assume to be Kate.

"That must be Kate."

"He's obviously built up the confidence to confront her. Garcia?"

"Alreading your mind. Calling the others."

She sends her address so you immediately head over there. If Greg doesn't know about your presence, he does as soon as the sirens blare. You get out of the car and feel not only Greg's anger but Kate's fear. She's in there with him right now.

"Dave, take some uniforms and find the back door. I'm gonna try to get inside and talk to him," Hotch says.

"Do you think that will work?" Detective Harding asks.

"I don't think Kate gets out of this any other way."

Rossi leaves with some of the police and heads to the back of the house. With Penelope's help, Hotch is able to get Greg's phone number, and he calls it.

"What?!" Greg shouts when he answers.

"Greg Phinney, this is Agent Aaron Hotchner. I need to talk to you about your demands so you can let Kate go."

"I don't have any demands. I ju... I want... I want her to pay for what she's done," he stutters.

"What has she done?"

"She took my dad. She's a whore, and she ruined us."

"Greg, I think this is more about your dad than it is about Kate."

"No. No, no. She... She got me locked up," he panics.

"Your dad is the one who put you away."

"Don't turn this one him!"

"Greg, I need to ask you a very important question. Do you want to live?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I think you do, and if so, you need to let me in the house. Otherwise I can't guarantee that you're gonna walk out of there."

Greg thinks about his answer and stutters. "You can come to the door."

He hangs up the phone and Hotch looks at you.

"Y/N, I want you to come in with me. Leave your firearm here." You remove your gun and hand it to Spencer who looks worried. One look from you and he knows you'll be okay. "Be compassionate and sympathetic to him. Let him tell you how Kate betrayed him and how much you understand his devastation."

"Okay," you nod.

You two get to the front door and you knock on the door. The door unlocks and opens, but Greg only opens it a crack. Just enough for you to see his face. He has Kate in his arms. You can feel her right on the other side of the door. He looks between you and Hotch in surprise.

"I never said that you could bring in anyone else."

"I know, but I thought if we talked inside we could work this out ourselves," you say.

"Are you some kind of a negotiator?" You two don't answer. He sighs and looks around for anyone else. "No guns."

"No guns," you agree.

The door opens wider, and your suspicions are confirmed when you look into Kate's eyes. He has a gun to her head and a knife against her throat. He backs up and allows you and Hotch to walk inside.

"Close the door." Hotch does. "Stand over there." You do as he tells you.

"You need to put the gun down," Hotch says.

"We need to get out of here. Is that gonna happen?"

"As long as you've got a gun, if one of the agents outside has a clear shot, he'll take it."

"Tell me what you want, Greg," you say.

"I don't want to get locked up again."

"Don't you really want Kate to apologize for making your dad forget your mom?" you ask.

"No, I didn't do that, though," Kate stutters.

You hate what you're about to, but it will get Greg away from Kate. You look at her and harden your gaze. "Unless the next words out of your mouth are 'I'm sorry', I don't want to hear anything else from you." She looks shocked but you ignore her and focus on Greg instead. "I understand, Greg. I do. She took care of you. You trusted her. Then she betrayed you as soon as your mother was gone. It must have crushed you when Kate married your dad. How did it make you feel, Greg? You felt betrayed, didn't you, Greg?"

"Ask her the question, Greg. Go ahead. Ask her," Hotch nods.

Greg looks at Kate. "Why not me? Why not me?"

She doesn't answer. "Answer him, Kate."

"Because you were just a boy," she stutters.

"I loved you. I loved you!"

"I'm sorry," she cries.

"But I loved you, Kate!"

"Don't kill me, Greg, please!"

You look behind Greg and see Rossi with his gun up. Both you and Hotch jump out of the way to avoid being caught, alerting Greg that you're not alone. He pushes Kate away from him and turns to shoot at Rossi, but Rossi does it first.

"Bring in backup," Hotch says over comms.

Paramedics are called since Kate has cuts on her arm from Greg. The shot from Rossi killed him, but at least he won't be able to hurt anyone else. As Kate is being looked at, you approach her with an apologetic look on your face.

"What you said in there, is it true? Did he really do all this because of me?" she asks.

"No. I had to be aggressive towards you in order to gain Greg's trust. None of this is your fault."

"Then why?"

"Greg was always a troubled child. Losing his mother and then his father made him even more unstable. Sometimes we do everything right and we still lose. Greg was a sociopath and there's nothing you could have done to change that."

Sometimes we do everything right and we still lose. Those words are on replay the entire ride home. Bad things happen to good people all the time. Maybe you're overthinking it, but something is telling you that something bad is coming your way. Maybe it's your body preparing yourself. For what, though? Guess you won't know until it happens.

Whatever it may be.

Due to the camera outside of your apartment, Frank has to disable it if he wants to get inside your apartment. He's learned a few things about computers over the years but not enough to successfully hack a computer system. It's why he has people for that. One call to his trusted IT guy and the cameras are locked in. He can move in front of it and it'll show like there is nothing happening on the app. He only has ten minutes so he has to move quick.

He leaves the apartment building directly across from yours and walks to your building. He uses the key he stole from you to get in, and he takes the stairs two at a time to get to your floor. He could wait for the elevator but that'll take too much time, time he can't spare.

He pauses right outside the camera and smirks at it knowing you won't see this. He unlocks your front door and slowly opens it so he doesn't wake you or Spencer. It would be bad if you caught him before he could finish what he came here to do.

The apartment is silent except for the swish of the fan in the bedroom. He peers through the open door at your and Spencer's sleeping frames. He doesn't give into the urge to walk over to you. What he wouldn't give to be sleeping right next to you. There will be a time for that later if he sticks to the plan.

He walks inside the bedroom with silent footsteps and walks over to the dresser. Due to him spying on you constantly, he knows the drawers that belong to Spencer, and he opens one of them carefully. His arm spasms which cause the drawer to creak, and he pauses with his breath held. He looks behind him to see you and Spencer still sleeping.

Good.

He removes three syringes from his pocket and gently lays them on top of Spencer's neatly folded ties and socks. Frank rolls his eyes at the thought of Spencer having a whole drawer for ties and socks. With the bait firmly in place, he closes the drawer more carefully and leaves the bedroom with two minutes to spare.

He slips out of your apartment and leaves the building with a smirk on his face. He can't wait to see what is going to happen when you and Spencer find those syringes.

Syringes full of Dilaudid.

"Every journey into the past is complicated by delusions, false memories, and false naming of real events." - Adrienne Rich

x

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[allthecanadianpolitics]

Dennis Mathu and Stephanie Gordon first started posting financial-advice videos on YouTube three years ago — a side hustle that helped to scratch a creative itch. They never imagined it would lead them down some of the most powerful political corridors in Canada. Mathu and Gordon — Steph & Den, as they’re known online — were among several content creators invited to Tuesday’s federal budget lockup, where they got early access to Ottawa’s new spending blueprint. It’s an invitation typically reserved for experts, stakeholders and mainstream media. But the federal Liberals are embracing influencers as they seek to win back disillusioned millennials, gen-Z voters and others who consume information through social media.

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland

[sciderman]

sorry I’ve been getting back into my Spider-Man hyperfixation And I kinda need to infor/opiniondump…

I always hear people calling Peter an “Everyman” because yes, he is. Most hero’s are made to be half relatable and half ‘impossible’

the only problem I have is that, when saying that about Peter— I only ever hear comparisons about how he’s broke or how he’s just a regular guy with a regular life trying to do some good in the world. While yes, that’s true, I don’t think people draw enough attention to more obvious parts of Peter’s character that can also happen to everyone.

Uncle Ben for example, not enough people talk about it. Peter and his family live in New York, and that state is pretty dangerous, especially in a populated area like Queens. Uncle Ben got shot and died, leading Peter to sink in on himself with grief and thinking that it’s his fault. That exact thing has happened to people before, close family members dying and leading to the person mourning on a downward spiral because they don’t know how to handle all that grief they feel, especially if they were as close with the family member as Peter and uncle Ben were.

I feel like more people should acknowledge that, you know to be silly and all

why do so many of you guys put sad and not very silly things in my inbox and tell me they're silly. they're not silly goofy funny!!

i don't think spider-man's story with uncle ben is necessarily about grief or a downwards spiral - i was going to say "in the comics" but i don't think it's the case in any adaptation of spider-man either. and it's very rare in spider-man media to even spotlight how close peter and ben were. i think this it probably just your personal reading into it - and i hope it's not to do with your own personal experience, but holding you so tenderly if it is.

maybe the closest to what you're talking about is the raimi films - they lean into the ben mythology heavier than any other spider-man adaptation, and they dig more into peter's guilt and grief. i think that's why people have the ben-fatigue now. but actually ben is not something very heavily focused on in the early comics - ben's death is more of a springboard for peter to realise that, now that he's the man of the house, he has to take on more responsibilities.

i don't think peter spirals out of grief when it comes to ben. more that - ben's gone. peter needs to make money to help may. the story is more about the financial trouble that the parkers have been put into with the loss of ben. peter puts on the tights. tries to join the f4 to make money. starts selling photographs to make money.

i think that's a very real down-to-earth sort of struggle, too - the financial hardship that families face after losing a father, and the financial hardships they face particularly with may's declining health. the parker struggle was more to do with financial stability than grief. (sorry ben.) i think there are other losses in peter's life that are more thorough explorations of grief than ben. gwen, for example. we spend a lot of time following peter's processing his grief. but ben? peter is back on his feet and trying to make a buck ASAP PRONTO because he doesn't have TIME to grieve. he can't afford to grieve. and that - that's the most relatable thing about peter parker, i think - the thing i admire about him so much - is that he's constantly faced with earth-shattering losses and tragedies and just - hits to the head and knocks to the teeth that would put any man down for the count, but he gets up and keeps going.

there's so many days in my life lately where i'm faced with things that make me feel like "wow. and you expect me to just. keep going?? after that??" but that's what peter does. and i love him. that kid just keeps getting back up after all the punches life lays on him. he just keeps going.

[democratsinthesouth]

FEMA has to put out a website to address conspiracy theories and lies told by a former president that may be hindering people’s ability to receive or seek aid after Hurricane Helene. There is nothing presidential about Donald Trump.

[iwriteaboutfeminism]

Have you heard rumors about the federal government's response to Hurricane Helene that sound like conspiracy theories? Have you seen family members spreading misinformation?

This is a good fact-checking resource.

A few of the topics covered:

Rumor: FEMA only provides loans to disaster survivors.

Rumor: The FAA is restricting access to the airspace for Helene rescue and recovery operations.

Rumor: FEMA is in the process of confiscating Helene survivor property. If I apply for disaster assistance and my land is deemed unlivable, my property will be seized.

Rumor: FEMA is asking for cash donations and turning away volunteers.

Rumor: Funding for FEMA disaster response was diverted to support international efforts or border related issues.

Rumor: FEMA is confiscating donations for survivors.

Rumor: FEMA will only provide $750 to disaster survivors to support their recovery.

(If you weren't sure, all of these rumors are false.)