#<-I brought her up. when am I NOT bringing her up

[mothtarts]

why did jayvik feel more queer than caitvi?? well i think i know

preface!!!! i’m a trans masc lesbian ok i’m like the biggest lesbian lover i was the #caitvi lover s1. but over the course of s2 i felt my love for them kinda go away. and instead i became obsessed with jayvik.

now. why am i making this bold ass claim. they literally had the lesbian sex. that’s so gay??? yea duh pls stop poking jokes about “what’s gayer blah blah or blah blah” obv the lesbian sex is gayer.

BUTTT the actual relationship of caitvi feels much more sanitized and toned down. The problem of Caitlyn and her arc this season to adds to the discomfort I have with CaitVi. Here we have an ultra-wealthy political and military leader deciding to genocide, because that’s what it was, genocide. an entire people. because of the actions of one person. and who’s people is it but vi’s. and instead of having any sort of repercussions for those actions. she is rewarded with a loving and passionate relationship with Vi. Who didn’t even properly fight or bring up her mass extermination efforts against the undercity. Now cutting to real world issues, i understand they were trying to use nazi imagery to make Cait more menacing, but with the actual gassing and fumes being used in current genocides in Palestine and Armenia, it felt kinda tone- depth to just have her use it and not acknowledge it afterwards. Sure she loses an eye, but she still has all her money and power.

Now let’s look at jayvik. Jayce is a character who originally was tempted towards power and influence, joining the council and trying to embrace the expectations of society, he comes to realize that his true love and meaning is viktor and helping society. Viktor someone also from the undercity, but instead of being complacent to the struggles of his people, as Vi was when she joined the raids against the undercity, uses his newfound gifts to try to help his people. Jayce in act 3 realizes he has no similar interests left the capitalist society he was confined to, and left Mel Mel, (whom I do love btw and is my fav character in the show so pls stop diminishing her jayvik fans.) The woman who had manipulated him and brought him down the path of basically selling his soul for expansive and destructive progress. He realizes that he must self-actualize with Viktor to truly realize his dreams. these characters who reject the expectations put upon them, and instead of conforming chose to make a new path with each other, something so much queerer than fucking marrying a nazi cop or whatever cait and vi did.

[reidgenius]

Low Pain Tolerance | S.R. x Reader

image by reidgif <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Word Count: 1.4k Category: angst, hurt/comfort? Warnings: commitment issues, wildly insecure!reader (it's really just me) A/N: I haven't written for Spencer before, so please excuse any OOC inaccuracies and be nice okay! I am a long-time lurker/admirer of the lovely @pathologicalreid and am writing this for her cutesy margovember event :) Song Inspo: Low Pain Tolerance by Abby Holliday

You never enjoyed running.

Still, that didn't stop you from doing it often. Whether it be on the job or in a relationship, you ran.

To catch a bad guy. To catch yourself before you fall. To stop something terrible before it happens... You ran.

In this instance, you found yourself running from Spencer Reid.

"Would you look at me? Please?" he pleaded.

You knew if you were to turn around that you'd see his glassy doe eyes and be drawn right back in. You knew your weaknesses, and he was certainly one of them. The biggest one. That's why you stayed put, staring at his bedroom wall.

"I can't, Spence." You meant to say it with finality, but it came out more as a whimper.

"You can't look at me, or you can't-"

"Neither. Both."

As the holidays approached, Spencer had mentioned the idea of the two of you making a trip out to Vegas. "Just for a day or two," he'd promised. Though there wasn't much he treasured about home, you knew that his mother was there, and that was more than reason enough.

This evening, he'd brought it up again after letting you avoid the topic for weeks.

"It's only a matter of time before you figure it out," you admit.

"Figure what out?"

"God, Spence, that I'm only bringing you down!" you nearly shouted, though you hadn't meant to. The anxiety took over. "I'm like... gahhh! I don't know how to do any of this, I-"

To your dismay, he let out a laugh as you finally turned to face him. A real, genuine laugh.

"Bringing me down?" He looked at you with an earnest amusement. "Honey, I don't think you realize what you-"

"I'm scared. Okay? Is that what you wanted me to admit? That I'm scared of meeting her?" A single tear gushed down your cheek.

His brows knit in concern as he quickly thought of ways to disprove the common fears surrounding schizophrenia and it's manifestations.

"Baby, schizophrenia doesn't ma-"

"Dammit Spencer, it's not about that! It's- I..."

You found yourself stumbling over your words.

"I don't care about her diagnoses!" you laughed. (Of course, you did care, but that wasn't what was scaring you.) "I'm scared of this!" you said, waving your hands between the two of you. "I don't want to rush it. I don't want to get her hopes up..."

You let your legs give way to sit on the floor against the wall, your head in your hands, mumbling to the cold hardwood.

"I don't want to get my hopes up."

There was it. That was the truth.

You weren't used to it. You weren't used to someone asking you how your day was and really caring. You weren't used to the notion that a man would want to wrap himself around you at night and keep you close. You'd never been one to draw much attention from men. Or women. Or anyone, really.

Naturally, you figured that there must be something deeply and inherently flawed in you. Something Spencer had yet to discover.

So, being with him was... terrifying. You were constantly waiting and wondering when he'd conclude that you weren't as pretty as he initially thought, or as witty, or as intelligent, or kind, or...

And it would only be cruel to drag Diana into this. To have her think that perhaps her son had found his person. To have her thinking that she might be meeting her future daughter-in-law. It felt cruel to yourself, in some twisted way, to pretend that this was all going to last.

Spencer was typically a fast thinker, but your admission had the cogs in his brain working overtime. You were afraid of him? Of your relationship?

He padded over to join you on the floor, keeping a little distance so as not to scare you.

"Get your hopes up? You don't-" he gulped, "I mean... you don't think we're gonna- that this is gonna work out?"

Still speaking to the floor, you sigh, "I don't know, Spence."

You were exhausted. Incessantly feeling like you're on the brink of being "found out" can do that to a person. It's not that Spencer hadn't done all the right things. No, he was the perfect partner. But therein lied the issue. He was perfect. And, in your opinion, you were far, far from it.

You took a deep breath through your tears.

"I don't think I can keep doing this."

Confusion. Utter shock. Things had been going so well with you the past 8 months. Spencer immediately began to wrack his brain combing through all the possible mistakes he could've made. Did he raise his voice with you? Had he forgotten some big milestone? Was he not giving you enough?

"Honey I-" he gathered himself, placing a hand on your thigh, "I'm so sorry. Can I ask... what makes you say all this?"

Though you were reluctant, you figured that now was as good a time as any.

"Spencer. I am not good for you! Good enough for you!" With each point, you illustrated by raising a finger, "I am impulsive and I complain and I get weird sometimes when you touch me and I can be a massive bitch and I never know how to-"

"Woah, woah, woah-" He snuck up closer to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and placing his head atop yours, all while you kept rambling. "Why in the world do you say that? Not good enough for me? If anything it's me who isn't deserving of you..."

"No, you-"

He stopped you in your tracks just by saying your name in that beautiful way he does. Like its covered in honey and dripping with admiration.

"You are everything. You may think those things about yourself but I certainly don't." His thumb caressed your bare skin so carefully as he continued, speaking slowly so as to allow the words to really sink in. "You are the most generous person I've ever encountered. You care so deeply about people you love. You are courageous and willing to try all the weird foods I suggest even though you really don't want to." He smirked a bit at that one. "You have taken everything that life has thrown at you and navigated it with grace. You really are just... you're it. You're her. You're the girl - the woman - I've always hoped would come my way but never dreamed actually would. Honey, I've figured out everything I need to know when it comes to how I feel about you."

You sat there, warm under his embrace, pondering his words as he spoke. It's nothing he hasn't said before, granted, in much less grand and emotionally charged ways. But it was like you were really hearing it for the first time. You wanted so badly to believe him.

"I love you," he continued. "I love you so much that sometimes I am afraid of myself. Of what I'd do for you. You, god, you make me so much better."

"I love you, too. Too much," you squeaked out.

"No. Not too much." He leaned back to encourage you to look up at him. "You know I really mean all that right? Just the way you are. Quirks included?"

"I guess. And now I'm just self-conscious that I am so self-conscious..."

"You say that as if I'm not the exact same way!" he chuckles, trying to make light of what is clearly a shared wound. You'll deal with that later. Together, preferably. "Please, trust me. Do you trust me?"

And you did. You trusted Spencer with every cell in your body and hair on your head. There was nobody else you'd ever been so confident in. So, you nod against his chest as your tears begin to subside.

"Good. Now why don't we move this party up into the bed?"

"No offense, Spencer, but the last thing I want right now is to f-"

"No no no nooope! Not that, babe," he laughed. "Just wanna lay with you 'til this feeling passes. Is that okay?"

"Please."

And so, the rest of the evening consisted of cuddles under your massive comforter. Sweet admissions whispered in your ear. The tiniest kisses to your hairline and your shoulder and your nose and your wrists.

By the time you dozed into a worry-free slumber, you believed him a little more.

Perhaps you could let Spencer love you, forever.

[smoothriverrocksrock]

Judging the Autobots by how likely they are to argue during dinner

Note: I am not basing this off any single continuity

Optimus Prime- 1/10. He’ll know better than to bring anything up on purpose. He gets a 1 because he’s still capable of bringing up something he views as harmless but can accidentally start a dumpster fire. Will try to shut down any arguments that happen

Elita 1- 4/10. She probably won’t start anything, but if something happens she WILL be fact checking everyone in the room. Her fact checking will inevitably put people on the defensive. A 4 because she WILL be sharing her thoughts

Ironhide- 6/10. He’ll promise Prime that he won’t start anything, but either forgets halfway through or immediately fans the flames when a topic gets brought up. Only a 6 because of the effort he’ll put in at the start

Prowl- 9/10. He just can’t help it. They’ll be eating and he’ll pull a “Did you do the thing I asked you to do?” Or a “What’s the plan for the next Decepticon raid?” And it’ll all spiral down from there. He might not even want or try to start an argument, his aura is just perfect for it. That being said, if he is trying, it’s a 11/10

Ratchet- 7/10. Very likely to complain and start something. It’s all downhill from there, and primus forbid he starts being spiteful when the argument gets heated. Becomes a 10/10 if the topic is healthcare related

Wheeljack- 3/10. His won’t start anything, but his takes will be so out of pocket for any given topic that he’ll incidentally calm everyone down. But don’t be fooled, he WILL be contributing. He becomes a 7/10 if the topic is related to science ethics

Jazz- 5/10. Might start something for fun, but only if the topic itself isn’t serious enough to cause a full on argument. Now if something does start he’ll have fun and joke around with whatever the topic is, but on average he’ll be trying to calm everyone down.

Red Alert- 11/10. God help us

Hot Rod- 8/10. Flame fanner extraordinaire. He’ll start shit for fun or keep it going for entertainment. Plays devil’s advocate. Things will end poorly once anyone tries talking over him.

Bumblebee- 3/10. He’ll do his best to calm everyone down, but he physically cannot stop himself from saying his opinion or taking sides. Ultra Magnus- 0/10. The fabled true neutral. Shit hits the fan and he excuses himself from the dinner. This could potentially end the argument then and there. He’s kinda like the omen of disaster, if him leaving doesn’t calm everyone down then it’s a sign things can only get worse

Ravage- 15/10 or 0/10, no in-between. She was sent to spy on the Autobots and is hiding in the vent. If the argument stays off Decepticons topics she will remain in hiding and enjoy the show. If it touches Decepticon topics and false information (like bad stereotypes or bringing up rumors) starts spreading she WILL be joining the conversation.

[thememestrider]

Come Back to Me - Mephiston x F! Reader

Wrote this for the beautiful @solspina : I hope I did your man justice :)

Sypnosis: Following a psychic breakdown, the only person who can bring Mepheston back from the brink is his beloved.

C/W: Blood, angst, reverse hurt/comfort, I've only read Dante's novels so my knowledge of Mephiston is second hand at best, I did do some research and I'm confident in how I wrote him but I apologise in advance for the inevitable ooc and lore inaccurate moments XP, unedited so probably errors and typos scattered about.

Mephiston bleeds.

Blood flows untempered from his nose. It leaks from his ears. The taste of copper coats his tongue and fangs, and tears streaked with red tumble in streams down his cheeks. His soul is bleeding, too. Punctured by the warp, he can feel what little is left of his humanity pouring out into the void to be devoured by the unspoken horrors that call it home.

But he does not stop. He can't. For if he were to fail now, the flagship Covenant of Baal, as well as half of Lord Dante's entire fleet would be lost in the warp forever.

His brothers are relying on him to get them home. Trusting him to get them through the warp unscathed. He must not fail them. He mustn't.

"Lord Mephiston!"

A deep voice made tight by fear breaks through Mephiston's reverie. A space marine; a librarian. Mephiston searches for a name, but his mind hasn't the strength to find it.

"My lord!" the librarian shouts again. "The ritual is unstable. We must leave the warp. Now!"

"No." Amplified by the warp and his own, growing fury, Mephiston's voice booms like a war drum. "Baal is close. I can feel it. A few moments longer and we will be there."

"You'll kill yourself, my lord! Or worse, you'll-"

Mephiston cuts him off with a growl. He knows what the librarian is insinuating; that should he loose control of his powers, he could kill everyone on this ship. The marine isn't wrong, Mephiston understands that better than anyone. But that doesn't stop it from stinging just a little when it is brought up.

Which is why I must succeed now. I must not fail my brothers. I must show them they can rely on me. That they can trust me.

The librarian continues to shout his warnings, but Mephiston is no longer listening. The pull he feels towards his destination is strengthening. When he looks out through the infinite dark of the void before him, he can see Baal outlined in red.

So close.

Pain takes him in a vice-like grip. His body seizes. Daemons rake their claws down his soul. They're feeding off his power, he realises. Preparing to use him as a gateway into the material world. In his weakened, exhausted state, Mephiston isn't sure if he can fight them off.

Through the cloud of psychic agony, he remembers words spoken to him by Lord Dante, just days ago.

"You are my friend, Mephiston, but know this. Should you ever become a threat to this chapter or humanity at large, I will strike you down myself."

Dante had said it as a vow. Not only as a leader, but as a friend. It pains Mephiston as much as the creatures tearing into his soul. He wonders if the librarians are seeking out the chapter master so he may fulfill that vow now.

A daemon sinks its fangs into him. He feels them puncture his hearts and shear through what's left of his strength. He screams. Eyes slamming shut, chest heaving from the pain. His mind is determined to hold on, but his body is failing. The strain is too much. It seems the librarian- still Mephiston can't recall his name- had been right.

"Meph? Can you hear me?"

I am sorry, my brothers. I am sorry, my beloved. I was not strong enough. I believed that I was, but I am not.

Her voice cannot hope to pierce the cacophony that is the warp. Yet, somehow, it does.

"Just focus on me, Meph."

Throne, her voice is beautiful. It was one of the first things he'd noticed about her. Wielding both strength and kindness in equal parts, just like her heart.

"You can do this, Mephiston," she says to him. "You can break free. You always do. Just come back to me. Like you always do."

Mephiston opens his eyes. Amidst the haze of psychic madness, the planet Baal remains tantalisingly near. But Mephiston is not searching for it any more. He's searching for her.

"I love you, Meph," she says. "I love you so much. No matter what happens to you or how much you change, I love you all the same."

In spite of everything he is enduring right now, her words pull at Mephiston's hearts like nothing else ever could. It drive him to go faster. Push harder. Tear his way free from the warp and get back to her. It means cutting the warp-jump short; there will be questions from the captains, maybe even Lord Dante himself. It means failing his duty, failing his brothers. But Mephiston does not care. He would rather fail them all a thousand times than cause his woman pain.

The shift from the warp to the real is near instant, and far less physically taxing that vice versa. Typically, it'd be as simple as opening one's eyes. But Mephiston is weakened, his body on the brink of total failure. The real world returns with the force of a whip, and immediately, Mephiston's world is dominated by agony.

The Lord of Death falls to his knees. Blood spills from his eyes and nose. His long silver hair clings to the sweat pouring off his shoulders and chest. His vision blurs. The room begins to spin. Again, Mephiston feels himself falling. This time, though, a pair of soft, nimble hands catch him.

"Easy, Meph. Easy. I've got you."

Her tone is gentle. Her voice, as soft as her touch. Her body trembles under his weight. In spite of his hurts, Mephiston pushes himself upright so as not to lean on her anymore. She frames his face with her hands. He can see tears in her eyes. "Gauis!" she shouts. "Fetch an Apothecary."

The librarian called Gauis nods and takes off without another word. Mephiston realises he was the same librarian who'd been shouting warnings at him before.

With Gauis gone, it is only the two of them here, now. It's then that she throws her arms around Mepheston's neck and drags him into a crushing embrace. "You silly, silly man," she whispers. Mephiston realises she is weeping. "Don't you ever do that to me again. Ever."

She squeezes him tighter. The sleeves of her shirt are growing stained with his sweat and blood, but she doesn't seem to care. Though he barely has the strength to raise him arms, Mephiston returns her embrace in earnest. "I am sorry, my sweet." His voice is thick with fatigue and emotion. He hates it when she cries. He hates it even more when he is the cause. "I thought I had it. I have done this so many times before, I-"

"I don't care." Arms still wrapped around his neck, she draws away just enough so as to meet his eye. Her hands find the base of his scalp. Ever so gently, she strokes him there. "The next time Gauis tells you to cut a ritual short," she tells him. "You listen. If not for your own safety, then for my own peace of mind."

Mephiston looks at her. Since his transformation, his hearts have lost much of their capacity for compassion. But what shreds are leftover belong solely to her. Every piece of him that is still human, still a man, loves her as fiercely as they possibly can. All of this, he lets show in his face. It almost moves him to tears. "I will," he says. "I promise."

She smiles at him. It's the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen. Ignoring the blood plastering his face, she leans in and kisses Mephiston, so fiercely it makes his jaw ache. Mephiston struggles to return it in kind, almost tipping over backward from the force with which she presses into him. He winces as the room sways again. She catches his head and guides him to the floor. "It's okay, Meph. You're okay." Gently, she lowers herself down beside him. "The Apothecary will be here soon. For now, just rest."

Without thinking, Mephiston reaches for her hand. She takes it in both of hers and squeezes it tight. "Thank you, " he murmurs.

She brushes her lips across his knuckles. "You know you don't need to thank me. Not now, not ever."

[faithshouseofchaos]

The boxing wing aka thanksgiving dinner — Sebastian Vettel x GN!reader

Word count — 793

Fluff

The tension in the car was already mounting as Y/N parked outside their childhood home. The crisp November air smelled of leaves and the faint aroma of turkey wafting from inside. Sebastian sat in the passenger seat, calm and collected, casually checking his hair in the mirror. Meanwhile, Y/N was running through a mental list of all the potential landmines the evening might hold.

“Okay, quick reminder,” Y/N said, unbuckling their seatbelt. “Don’t bring up politics. Don’t bring up football. And if my cousin Sarah starts talking about her essential oils business, for the love of God, just nod politely.”

Sebastian chuckled. “I think I can manage. But are you okay? You look like you’re heading into a boxing ring.”

“I am heading into a boxing ring. We call it Thanksgiving dinner,” Y/N muttered before turning to him. “You sure you’re up for this?”

Sebastian grinned, his warm, easy charm on full display. “Free food and a little family chaos? I’ve driven through Monaco in the rain. I can handle this.”

The moment they stepped inside, the chaos hit. Y/N’s mother swooped in with a flurry of hugs and questions, barely giving Sebastian a chance to introduce himself. The sound of kids yelling and a football game blaring in the background filled the air. From the dining room, Y/N’s dad called out, “Who’s this guy? Did you bring a date?”

“This is Sebastian,” Y/N said, forcing a smile. “He’s my… uh… boyfriend.”

That word hung in the air for a moment, and then—“Boyfriend?” Aunt Linda exclaimed from the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on her apron. “Well, it’s about time! We were starting to think you were allergic to relationships.”

Sebastian, ever the professional under pressure, stepped forward with a smile and extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all. Y/N has told me so much about their amazing family.”

Y/N snorted quietly. That was a lie. Sebastian didn’t even know half their relatives’ names.

Dinner was a mix of triumph and disaster.

Sebastian charmed Y/N’s dad by discussing sustainable farming practices and even managed to compliment Uncle Steve’s deep-fried turkey without wincing. But then Sarah brought up her essential oils business, launching into a monologue about how they could cure anything from headaches to heartbreak.

“Actually, I’ve read that lavender oil can reduce stress,” Sebastian offered diplomatically.

“Oh, he’s smart and polite,” Sarah cooed, throwing a pointed look at her husband, who was glued to the football game.

Things took a turn, however, when Aunt Linda, emboldened by a second glass of wine, leaned forward with a knowing smirk. “So, Sebastian, how serious is this? Are you two thinking about the future?”

Sebastian glanced at Y/N, who was frantically trying to signal him with wide eyes. Without missing a beat, he took Y/N’s hand and said, “I think we’re taking things one step at a time. But I’m very lucky to have found them.”

Y/N’s mom nearly teared up, while Grandma muttered something about finally getting great-grandkids before it was “too late.”

And then, inevitably, the chaos began.

Uncle Steve decided to weigh in on relationships, launching into a loud argument with Aunt Linda about how “kids these days” rush into things too quickly. Cousin Sarah started arguing with Grandma about the validity of essential oils. The kids were screaming about the pie being served too late. Y/N sat back, watching the chaos unfold with an air of resignation.

Sebastian, however, was unfazed. Leaning over, he whispered, “Is this the part where I should stage a distraction?”

Y/N grinned. “If you can get my dad to break out his embarrassing karaoke machine, you’ll be my hero.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Challenge accepted.”

True to his word, Sebastian had the karaoke machine plugged in before dessert was served. By the end of the night, Y/N’s dad was belting out a rendition of “Sweet Caroline,” Grandma was clapping along, and Aunt Linda was too busy singing backup to argue with anyone. Y/N leaned against the kitchen counter, watching the madness with a newfound appreciation for their unexpected ally.

“You survived,” Y/N said as Sebastian joined them, a smug smile on his face.

“Not just survived,” he said, holding up a container of leftovers. “I thrived.”

Y/N laughed, shaking their head. “Thanks for doing this. You didn’t have to.”

Sebastian shrugged, his expression softening. “It wasn’t so bad. Your family’s crazy, but… kind of fun. Plus, now I know where you get your sass from.”

Y/N rolled their eyes but smiled. “Well, you’re officially invited to every Thanksgiving from now on.”

Sebastian’s grin widened. “Careful. I might take you up on that.”

[attibar]

"Yup, that's me. You're probably wondering how I ended up surrounded by a bunch of criminals."

It all started when I first went after the Toppat Clan. We heard that their former leader still lived and we learned his location. It took too many attempts but I finally captured the infamous Terrence Suave. Only to realize that any information he had was long outdated. Now any criminal of sound mind would escape as soon as possible and never come back. Apparently Suave only got half of that memo. It's either him getting "captured" again by ignorant soldiers that want to help me, or him sneaking back on base to be a nuisance. Since Terrence burned his relationship with the clan we weren't too worried about him sending them information on us. At least he makes good conversation.

And then there's Henry Stickmin. Now in his defense I did essentially blackmail him to steal evidence from the Toppat Clan, but it was for the greater good I swear. As luck would have it Henry appeared to have no problem lending a hand in future missions despite his criminal status. Yes, he never quit stealing. I've needed to have stacks of pardons on standby. At least Charles has been able to somewhat keep him in line on base. Though I really want to know where Henry gets all his tools; they just pop into existence.

When Charles brought back Henry for stopping the launch of the Toppat's space station I hadn't expected him to bring along a woman named Ellie Rose. I choked on my drink when he explained that Ellie and him escaped that damned Wall Complex. I didn't even know Henry was in there. Where was I? Right, Ellie does steal like Henry and Terrence but seems more interested in mercenary, or criminal-for-hire work. I can actually hire her to do missions and not worry about her stealing everything not nailed down, it's great! Compared to the last two she's not so bad. At least she keeps everyone else in line. I think she has decked over half of the base at this point.

I thought it would have ended there. Three criminals hanging around. But no, life is never that easy. Some of the Toppats escaped custody and regrouped. With their space launch failed, their finances almost dry, and many of them still locked up I suppose they needed someone to blame. And blame they did. They exiled their own leader and second in command, Reginald Copperbottom and Right Hand Man. I don't know what black magic they used to escape justice, but it has a sense of humor. I was visiting Terrence at his home and found a sobbing Reginald with Right trying to console him. To be honest I'm shocked that Terrence even let them in considering their history.

Now here I am with three former Toppats, a merc-for-hire, and a kleptomaniac with strange powers. I'm going to need to print out so many more pardons.

[lucifermorningstxr]

Unfortunately for the both of them, the moment couldn't last forever after all. Perhaps hoping to Dad for that one wasn't the best call. After everything that'd went down, from Kinley to Eve, all of these months of turmoil later, holding Chloe in his arms was all Lucifer wanted in life right now. He still had actions to atone for though, so when Chloe pulled back and brought up the whole Julian McCaffrey thing, he'd seen it coming. Even so, he wasn't particularly thrilled about that scumbag interrupting him moment, but he owed Chloe an explanation about it.

Lucifer pulled back and looked down at Chloe, leaving his hands on his human as he took a deep breath. He could only be honest, and while he felt the truth wasn't as bad once explained, he still wasn't proud of his actions. "Right. Julian's back..." He shifted on the cushion before continuing. "You should've heard him, Detective. He didn't care about any of them. Gary, Rookie Joan, all the women he'd trafficked, and all the lives he'd ruined. Only in the deepest depths of Hell have I seen souls as remorseless as him. In the moment, punishing him felt right. But do you know what's strange, Detective?" Lucifer paused, resituating his grip on Chloe. "It felt so right when Eve and I stood over him when she smiled at me. When I realised who I am. But now, looking into your eyes... I feel terrible about it. Yes, the bastard got what he deserved, but looking into your eyes now..." He traced a circle on her shoulder with his thumb. "I realise even more that it's who I was, not who I am. Paralysing Julian won't bring all those lives back, will it? It doesn't matter what I do. I can't fix what he's done, and punishing him on Earth like I did only serves to hurt those I'm seeking to protect most of all."

Simply being this close to Chloe, sharing his full vulnerability with his human, made Lucifer feel infinitely better as it pertained to the prophecy. She must be right because how could evil incarnate be so fortunate to have Heaven on Earth in his arms after all he'd done? Her touch, her scent, and her voice felt like home in this moment. Always one to talk too much and ruin the moment, he decided it was best in this moment to just hold her close and rub her back and shoulders gently. "Thank you for everything, Detective." He held her close and hoped to Dad that this would never end.

[space-cowboys-and-aliens]

At Your Immediate Discretion

Rating: Mature

General Acacius x Reader

Word Count: 700

You meet General Acacius under the cover of night, revealing what you've been hiding from him.

"I have something weighing on my spirit. It seems that it needs your attention."

"What is it?"

"Over the last several weeks, I've realized…there are developments that have made their presence known to me."

"Developments? What is it you speak of?"

"Sir, my apologies. There is something horrible happening inside of me."

He laughs. "Horrible?"

"Yes, wicked and vile and ugly and…"

His face grows serious.

"Gods. We must get the doctors in at once. Fetch Brenan, he will see you to them."

"No! Sir, it’s more than what doctors’ minds alleviate."

The general, still confused, sits on a stone protruding from the ground.

"The feelings I have…the thoughts in my mind…you would think I’m growing mad. The worst kind, brought on in massive quantity by your presence. Forgive me. I cannot wash myself clean enough. I have tried. Gods, I fear the worst."

"My…"

He takes your wrists in one massive hand, holding them in a firm but grounding embrace.

"You are not…unclean, as you have said. You, of all, have the least to feel shame for. Who told you this was necessary to believe?"

"But never in my life have I felt so indecent, so exposed. It’s unnatural for a young woman of high nobility to entertain, allow, such deviancy. I throw shame upon myself. Forgive me. Depravity echoes through my soul."

"It’s very natural. Very mortal to feel…such a way."

She looks up.

"It is?"

"It is."

"I say again, General. I have horrible, deeply troubling thoughts. Every day. Every night."

"Every night?"

"When you pace by in the corridors. I sense you from gait alone. Across the gardens in the mornings. In the cathedral. Every fiber of my being attunes to yours. I’ve been alone most of my life. I’ve never had anyone teach me the ways in… what I can only describe as carnal desire. The sins of the flesh. Cartha and Tom run through the streets in the night, scheming for conquests. Their company has surely infected my nature. I have plagued you, too. I must…"

"Please look at me."

You can’t.

"There is something horrible happening inside of me..."

"There is nothing horrible happening."

"And it hurts."

"You don’t have to hurt, my stars. Where does it hurt? Tell me."

"Here."

"Here?"

"Yes."

"And you say I am the cause of your impure thoughts."

"Dear gods, how to control it? This fire within, wreaking havoc and destruction where I turn. Please."

"Would you like me to show you…?"

His hand was warm as he spread his touch across your waist.

"Please, let me touch you."

"Oh, my gods."

You lean forward, arms winding around his neck, bringing your foreheads together.

"He holds onto you by your waist."

"Hey. Shhh, it’s okay. You make the sweetest sounds. Are they for me?"

You nod.

"Answer."

"Yes," you breathe.

"I’m going to take care of it, okay?"

You nod.

This is the first time you have ever felt anything like this. Your face contorts at the faintest hint of pleasure.

He slowly pulls her body closer until it’s pressed flush to his own.

"Does it feel good?"

"Yes, yes, it feels so good."

"You’re so sensitive…"

"So sensitive…," you repeat.

"So needy…"

You stop rocking her hips. Looking down at him,

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, no. Come here. So good for me…"

"…you…"

"Turn around."

You obey, and he kisses your neck as you stretch the skin. You feel your head tilt up, up, towards the heavens. His laving attention increases as your impatience towards relief grows, drawing a slight whine from your core. He grunts, a heavy sigh upon your open back. Another kiss presses to the nape of your neck. Your breathing turns to pants, mouth open, gaping at the worlds above.

[misteria247]

Fiddleford never in his life thought he'd ever get a chance to do something like this. Then again, there were a lot of things he didn't think he'd ever do, but somehow, he'd managed to experience them. All thanks to the woman standing next to him. The older man looked at her, the blonde who had changed his life. She was holding onto his arm, her flowing white dress clinging to her. A bouquet of flowers was in her grasp, and her hair was pinned up behind her veil. She looked beautiful, which made sense, giving it's her big day.

The day when she was officially becoming Mrs. Pines.

Fiddleford felt his chest get a bit tight with emotion. It felt like just yesterday he'd met her, the awkward, slightly mean 12 near 13 year old. When she'd been quiet and suspicious of the world and people around her. A girl who had decided to accompany him on one of his trips to the junkyard and, as a result, changed his life forever. At that moment, as he stared at the woman Pacifica Northwest-Mcgucket was, he recalled all the firsts he had with her.

He recalled the first time when she called him dad. A slip of the tongue, in a moment of peace and domestic calm. They'd been working on a project together, with Fidds focused on a piece of delicate weld work.

"Hey Paz, can you pass me that there tool?"

Fidds gestured towards said tool. Paz got up, making her way to it, grabbing it and bringing it back to him.

"Here you go dad."

She said, not thinking about it. Fiddleford about dropped the tool she just gave him, and Pacifica froze, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

"I....I mean-"

She scrambled, trying to save face. However, it wasn't necessary when she caught sight of the fond grin.

"Thank you hon. I appreciate it."

He said smoothly, not calling attention to it. Knowing how Pacifica could be. It was that decision that opened up the gates. Before he realized it, she was calling him dad all the time. The word sounding like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like it was meant to be. It wouldn't be until months later, when he was working on making her a pair of new welding gloves that the weight of the word finally hit him. That despite everything he'd done in his life and out of everyone in the world, Pacifica had chosen to call him dad. The tears that were shed that night were of ones of gratitude and happiness unlike anything he'd experienced in a very long time.

'She really did brighten up my world, this little lady.'

He thought fondly and affectionately as he recalled another first he'd had with her. The first time she'd come to him, crying and distraught and seeking him out. An argument, harsh and cruel, had happened between her and her biological father. Upsetting her so badly that she'd run away from her house. Heading straight to the manor where she knocked on his door. Startling him awake. When he'd opened the door, the sight of Pacifica being so broken and covered in tears had just about shattered his heart right there and then. He brought her inside, concerned and agitated to figure out a way to fix this. To bring back the confident, intelligent, sassy teen he was used to. He was broken out of his rushing thoughts by two small arms wrapping around him.

"Fidds...am.....am I a disgrace....?"

Pacifica asked, sounding so small and broken. The world seemed to stop as he processed her question, and with it, a burning fire of red hot rage piercing his chest. How dare that man make this girl feel like that? How dare he tear this bright, sharp, witty girl down because he couldn't control her? How dare he even have the nerve to call himself her father when all he did was hurt and crush her?

"Pacifica Northwest, you are not a disgrace. You wanna know what you are?"

The hick asked, not even waiting for her to respond before he continued. Fired up something fierce.

"You are talented. You are bright and smart and funny. You are kind and loving, and you bring so many people so much joy. You are loved, and you are wonderful just the way you are. And I couldn't be prouder to have you as a daughter."

Pacifica broke down at that, clinging to Fiddleford like a drowning person would with a life vest. And the inventor clung back just as tightly. Holding her together and protecting her from the world as she broke down. Finally letting out all the hurt and misery she'd kept inside for so long. When she was done, she'd spent the night sleeping in Fiddleford's bed while he took the small sofa. Watching her sleep, he vowed to protect this girl with everything he had. Because she was his now.

The older man returned to the present moment when he felt Pacifica grab his arm a bit.

"You alright honeybee?"

He asked her, his voice soft. He watched as she bit her bottom lip, nervous.

"What....what if Dipper gets tired of me dad?"

Paz asked, her voice shaking slightly. Fidds eyes went wide, understanding shining in them.

"Paz sweetheart, that boy is head over heels for you. If he was tired of you, we wouldn't be here right now. Remember when you first started dating? You thought the same thing back then."

The mechanic said as his daughter's flashed with recognition. For Fiddleford, it was still fresh in his mind that day. Another first, he noted that he once again shared with her. She'd been 16 at the time, and she and Dipper had finally became official. It'd been a long time coming if you asked anyone who knew the couple. Fidds had spotted it way back when they were young, when he would go to help out Stanford and Stanley with something, and Pacifica would tag along. It was so obvious that Dipper and Pacifica were smitten despite how young they were. So it was no big shocker to him when she'd come to him one day saying she liked the Pines boy. However, what did surprise him was when Pacifica came over one day, looking nervous and uneasy, and before he even greeted her had been met with.

"Dad, do.....do you think that Dipper really likes me? I know we're dating now, but what.....what if it's because of me being a Northwest? What....what if he doesn't actually like me?"

Fiddleford reeled, stunned. Did she not see the way he looked at her? Did she not notice the way Dipper always wanted to be by her side? Did she not have a clue that Dipper was so smitten with her that everyone and their grandmother could tell? Collecting his thoughts, he gave her a stern but fatherly look. Gently rubbing her upper arm to comfort her.

"Pacifica Northwest-Mcgucket. That boy is head over heels in love with you. You know, as well as I do, that Dipper Pines isn't the type of man to go after something unless he's absolutely sure about it. And I can promise you sugar bear, you ain't got nothing to worry about. Heck, I'd bet on my old banjo that it wouldn't be much of a stretch if one day he might marry you, I reckon."

The genius hick said serious and confident. Pacifica went red, embarrassed, but the sparkle was back in her gaze, and her confidence was no longer waning. And that was all that mattered to him.

"Oh good lord, I remember that conversation. You always look so smug still to this day being proven that you're right...."

Pacifica also said, recalling that day. The father, daughter duo, let out a few chuckles, feeling warm at the memory. Fidds gave his daughter's hand a squeeze, gaze soft and full of fatherly love and pride.

"And I still am right sugar cube. I rarely ever wrong."

Fiddleford watched as her own gaze softened, love and fondness shining bright. The once quiet insecurities now silenced by the reassurance of her father. The two were broken out of their moment by the sound of the tune of 'Here comes the bride'. He felt her shimmy a bit, her arm intertwined with his as she took a deep breath to prepare. Looking at her father once again, she gave him a small look.

"Well, how do I look dad?"

She asked.

"You look stunning hon. You ready?"

He asked smiling a bit wider.

"Yeah, I'm ready......promise you won't let go till we're up there dad?"

Paz asked. And in that moment she was once again 12, and he a younger old man, intertwined by the very stars.

"Promise darlin'."

With that sentence Pacifica Northwest-Mcgucket and her father Fiddleford Mcgucket finally took their first steps towards her future. Where the love of her life stood at the end waiting for her.

Fiddleford never expected to experience these moments. If you asked him way back when he was younger if he believed he'd ever experience fatherhood. He would have told you no. But if asked now....he'd smile the most bright smile, eyes twinkling with a light that wasn't there before and tell you yes. And he couldn't wait to experience even more firsts in this perfect future with the one girl who made it all worth while.

[cent-scratchnsniff]

here together

[angelstrawbabie420]

in my quest to quell my pain ive only hurt myself worse. damned if i do damned if i dont.

[deathsmallcaps]

I work as the person in an amusement park who watches the children who get lost. Here’s some advice. This also applies to any mentally disabled adults that are under your care. Keep in mind that many places will not look for a minor ages 13-17 unless it is close to closing or they are disabled, as corporate considers it a strain on resources and employee use.

1. Teach them your phone number. Best gift you can give them. I’m not supposed to have my phone out at work but I can cut down dependent’s being-lost-time by probably 400% if I can contact you. It also assures the children That We Are Doing Something and that They Are Helpful and Smart. If your dependent has a poor memory, apparently writing your phone number in sharpie and then covering it in nail polish makes it stay all day, even if they’re sweaty or getting in the water. I haven’t tested this but I’ve heard a lot of moms recommend it. I’ve also seen bracelets with little plates or the beads saying the phone number.

Addendum: your dependent may tell you that they know your phone number, but they actually only know your passcode. True story. This summer has been a lot better, but last summer exactly one child the entire season knew his mom’s phone number.

2. Acknowledge that dependent’s memories are faulty, especially in new places. If you tell them to meet you in X spot or that your stuff is all in Y place, they may not remember where it is or remember how to get there.

3. All dependents, but especially little ones, have shit time sense. They might find your stuff, wait there for a minute or two, and truly believe that they’ve been there for an hour. Half the small kids that are brought to me are ones who *know* where their stuff is, but haven’t seen an adult they know personally in 5 minutes, so they’re going to panic.

4. Don’t take naps!!! And don’t let your dependent go anywhere you can’t go or at least go where you catch them at the end!!! Yes you’re staring at the play structure your dependent entered, but can you see them? No? Then there’s a good chance they went elsewhere. So many of the littler kids that are brought to me are brought by genuine, good-hearted strangers who see lost children and take them by the hand. Away from the spot you’re napping in front of/staring vaguely at.

5. This might just be something from my work, but we will not call dependent’s descriptions over the loudspeaker. This is because if an asshole were to see your dependent, hear the description, know it’s a lost dependent, and decide to steal it, they can then use the excuse, “I know where your guardian is! Come with me!” And then lead them out of the park or toss the dependent over their shoulder. Do you know how many crying and screaming dependents leave the location every day? A lot!!! We’re a fun location!!! We’re not going to know if the dependent is screaming because they don’t want to leave or if a stranger is taking them away. We might call the description over the loudspeaker if it’s past closing time and the dependent still isn’t found. But before that, we will only report it over secure radios across the park.

6. Tell a park worker right away. Preferably someone with a radio. Even if you spot the dependent within the next minute, that means the dependent will have less being-lost time. Especially if we already have the dependent with, you guessed it, me. Also please tell us when you find the dependent.

7. Take a picture of your depdendent at the start of the day! That way security guards can have a good idea of what to look for. One mother told me her daughter was blonde and showed me a picture. Her hair color looked brown to me, but then I knew what to look for in the crowd.

8. Keep at least one person in your group in one spot at all times, especially if you don’t have access to your phone or forgot to give out your phone number to the guards. That way they can find you if they pick up the dependent. If you are the only person in your group, then PLEASE stay in one place or at least stay with ONE security guard. It sucks for the dependent if they can’t find you right away even if the both of you are looking for each other and a guard is helping them. You are NOT helping if you panic and run around. And keep your goddamn phone on you and answer calls from unknown numbers!!!!! God. This is a good time to do that.

9. If you lose your dependent in an attraction like the lazy river at a water park, and you have that ONE person staying in place, then this is what you can do with 1+ mobile people.

A. If only one person can be spared to be mobile, have them pick a spot and stay right there, watching the river go by. Eventually, if the dependent is in the river, they’ll go by.

B. If you have two people that can be mobile, both start at the same place in the river and go opposite directions. If you meet up again without spotting the dependent, well, they’re not there.

C. If you have more than 2 people, you can do B but also station different adults at the lazy river entrances/exits.

10. Don’t blame the dependent! Even if they ran away and/or are pissy that you’re upset once you all reunite, trust me, there’s a 99% chance they’re upset too. Yes, this is a good time to have a serious conversation with them. Yes, if this is a repeated problem, and/or you warned them you’d leave the park if this occurred, you should not back down. But also - they’re dependents. They’re not stupid, and they should be told consequences and dangers so they can make good decisions, but they will never have the adult/guardian perspective that you do. Be kind.

Also please for my sake teach them if they’re brought to someone like me, that it’s THEIR job to be safe and listen to me while us park workers look for you. It’s YOUR job to find the dependent, not the dependent’s job to find you. I had a six year old little girl genuinely toddler-howl at me because she wanted to go look for her mom. I’ve never before heard a kid her age howl like that. I can trick kids out of crying 9/10 times but howling came as a surprise lmao. I think I can manage it now that I’ve experienced it but damn.

Also make sure those kids are DRINKING. Being in a water park is NOT the same as drinking water. They should be drinking every 15 minutes at LEAST, I am NOT kidding.

Also if I call you to tell you your kid is here, please don’t call or text me back after you have the kid. I’m sure other places have phones for these types of things but the only one I have is my personal phone. And I am happy to get the kid off my hands and into your arms, but I’m using my personal phone so plz. Don’t call me back. Absolutely call me if you need directions to my ‘office’ in the park. Don’t call or text me after. I have stories about that hoo boy but this post is already long.

[songtwo]

most of the time i feel like im just an average person like i know im really lucky to be living my dreams working a job i love in the city i always wanted to live in like i know im a very lucky and privileged person bc most ppl don’t get any of that but most of the time i also forget it’s not just that like most ppl in my hometown never get out and don’t even go to college and like even in my family im still the only one to ever attend university and move to the city which is just crazy like it’s so crazy to me to think im not really average specially not where i come from which is idk so weird

[phagodyke]

kind of annoys me sometimes how I can happily listen to my roommate explain the entire plot of whatever she's currently into but when it comes to my interests she can only listen for a few mins before wordlessly walking out of the room

[yashley]

“I’m really sorry.” “So am I.”

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

.