#everything hurts and I want to go to sleep

[coolemmasulivan2]

Back on Track

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: After a fight with Lando, you’re nowhere to be found when he leaves for Austin, making him fear the relationship is over. But when you arrive at the track with Max, he gets a second chance to make things right, and the two of you reconcile.

Word count: 2061

Even though we're going through it And it makes you feel alone Just know that I would die for you Baby, I would die for you, yeah

You and Lando rarely fought. You’d been together since his final season in Formula 2, a bloody long time, and you could count the big fights on one hand. But this one was different. This was the worst of them all.

It was his last day at home before flying to Austin, and somehow everything went down.

"You're being clingy!" He shouted, running a hand through his messy curls, frustration etched on his face.

You stared at him, stunned. "I’m being clingy? Me? Lando, we’ve been together for years, and I have never asked you for anything. The one time I do, and this is what you say? Wow."

"Yeah, well, you’ve never acted like this before!" His face hardened, eyes sparking with irritation you weren’t used to. "Seriously, if you suddenly want some boyfriend who’ll sit around every night, watching dumb TV shows and cuddling you to sleep, maybe you should find someone else."

You shook your head, disbelief morphing into something different, something more hurt. "Maybe I should do that!"

He was beyond pissed. "Then please, do! I'm going out and I'll do the same." He turned, grabbing his jacket without a second glance. and strode out, slamming the door shut behind him.

You flinched at the echo, the silence crashing down around you as tears started to well up. "I hate you, Lando Norris." You whispered into the emptiness of the apartment.

Lando sat in the VIP section of his favorite Monaco club, gazing blankly over the crowded dance floor. The music pulsed, people laughed and danced, but his thoughts were miles away, thinking of you.

Max leaned in, breaking Lando’s trance. "Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to drag it out of you?" Lando shrugged. "Was it that bad?"

Lando sighed, his gaze distant. "It was! It was the worst fight we’ve ever had." He swallowed, the words bitter. "She probably thinks I’m cheating on her right now."

Max’s eyebrows shot up. "What are you talking about? Why would she think that?"

"Because, I pretty much said that." Lando muttered lound enough for Max to hear over the music.

Max looked at him, incredulous. "Why the hell would you say that, you absolute idiot? You love her."

Lando exhaled heavily. "I was angry! I didn’t even think. I just… said it. I realized how bad it sounded the second I left."

Max shook his head, staring at him with a mix of pity and frustration. "Well, congratulations: you’re an idiot!"

"Thanks for the information."

It was late when Lando finally got home. The apartment was dark, and silence filled the rooms. He stepped into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, his mind caught between whether he should crash on the sofa or swallow his pride, apologize, and lie beside you.

He waked to the closed bedroom door, standing there for a long moment, nerves filling his body. His hand hovered over the doorknob, but he stopped himself. He stepped back and with the sting of guilt he fell down on the sofa.

You were deep asleep when a hand shook your shoulder. Groggily, you opened your eyes to see your best friend sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes barely open, hair rumpled from sleep.

"What?"

She yawned, rubbing her eyes before looking at you. "Your phone won’t stop ringing."

Blinking, you glanced at the empty nightstand, remembering you’d left your phone in the living room. "What time is it?" You muttered. "It’s probably Lando. We were supposed to leave for Austin early."

She groaned, pulling a pillow over her head and laying down next to you. "Then answer it or turn it off. It’s too early for this, and I’m exhausted."

"She rejected my call!" Lando exclaimed, pacing back and forth in the apartment.

Max raised an eyebrow. "That’s good news."

"How is that good?"

"At least we know she’s okay." He said. "And still mad at you, which is probably deserved."

"I don’t even know if she was still here when I got home last night. The bedroom door was closed, and I just… crashed on the sofa. I only realized she was gone this morning."

Max nodded thoughtfully. "So, what’s the plan now?"

“I don’t know,” Lando groaned, slumping into a chair, rubbing his hands over his face. "The team’s going to kill me if I miss this flight."

"So go!" Max said firmly.

Lando looked up, shaking his head. "No way. I’m not leaving without her."

Max rolled his eyes. "Look, she knows you have to leave, Lando. Sooner or later, she’s coming back, and when she does, I’ll bring her to Austin myself. Just go."

"What if she refuses to go?"

"She loves you. She'll want t make things right. Trust me!"

Lando hesitated. "You promise?"

"I promise."

You slipped into the apartment two hours later, knowing Lando would be gone by now. The silence felt heavy as you shut the door, but before you could make it to the kitchen, Max appeared, stepping out from Lando’s streaming room.

You jumped, clutching your chest. "Max! What the hell? You scared me!"

"Sorry!" He said, raising his hands in apology.

"What are you doing here? Is Lando still here?" You glanced around, half expecting him to walk out from somewhere.

"He left. Had to, or he’d have missed his flight."

You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and taking a long sip. "I thought you were going with him."

"I am. I was just waiting for you."

You looked at him, understanding dawning slowly. "Max, I don’t think going with you is a good idea." You sank into a chair at the small dining table, and Max sat across from you.

"That’s not true."

"Max, you don’t know how he treated me, the things he said…" You swallowed, voice shaking. "He told me I should find someone else. And said he would, too."

Max leaned forward, shaking his head. "Look, he was furious and stupid. Belive me, I know what he said, and he regrets every word. He didn’t even want to leave. I practically had to drag him onto the helicopter."

Tears pricked at your eyes. "Max, I don't know."

"He’s an idiot, but he’s an idiot in love with you. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone, Y/N. He’s been calling you non-stop, hoping you’d pick up, and he’s completely torn up about it. So please, come with me. Let’s go to Austin."

Lando had been unusually quiet all day. Practice had gone well, but not well enough; the Ferraris were ahead, and so was Verstappen. His mind should’ve been on the upcoming sprint qualifying, but all he could think about was you and the fight. He could only hope that Max was somehow convincing you to come to Austin.

"Everything alright? You’ve been quiet, which is… not like you." Oscar asked, glancing over at Lando as they wrapped up filming a video for McLaren’s social media.

"Just tired." Lando muttered.

Oscar hesitated, then asked gently. "Where’s Y/N? Lily told me she was coming."

Lando’s jaw tensed, his eyes flicking up to meet Oscar’s. "I… don’t think she’s coming." He admitted, his voice low. "I messed things up pretty badly."

Oscar raised his eyebrows. "Want to talk about it?"

Lando shook his head, leaning back and closing his eyes. "Not really. Just… hoping I haven’t lost her." He said, more to himself than to Oscar.

Lando was suiting up, pulling on his gloves and securing his helmet, trying to lock his focus onto the upcoming sprint qualifying. But the knot of anxiety in his stomach hadn’t eased since he arrived, knowing he might have to go through this entire weekend without you there.

Just then, Max appeared in front of him, grinning. "Hey, mate. Just came by to wish you luck. And, by the way…" Max lowered his voice, glancing over his shoulder. "She’s here."

"Fuck... thank you for bringing her."

There, standing quietly near the corner, arms crossed and headphones on, was you. You looked a little nervous, a shy expression on your face and when your eyes met, you quickly looked away.

A wave of relief fell over him, and he instinctively took a step forward, desperate to close the space between you. But Max put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back.

"Not now." Max warned. "You’ve got a sprint to think about. You can talk to her after."

"But—" Lando began, his eyes darting back to you, a urge to apologize.

A couple of mechanics also intercepted him, nudging him toward the car with hurried reminders. "We’re starting in a few, Lando."

Lando clenched his jaw, glancing back at you. Taking a deep breath, Lando slipped into the car, his heart beating a little steadier, his mind clearing. For the first time all day, he felt ready. You were here and that was everything.

You watched the qualifying from the garage, heart pounding with every lap. It was always like this: nerve-wracking, pride and fear as you watched him push himself and the car to the limit. But today, your chest felt even tighter, knowing the tension lingering between you.

When the session ended, Lando finished fourth. Relief mixed with a bit of pride washed over you as you clapped, your gaze fixed on him as he came into the garage.

The moment he spotted you, he didn’t hesitate. He strode over and without a word, he reached for your hand, gently but firmly, and led you out of the garage toward his driver’s room, ignoring the curious glances around you.

Once inside, he closed the door. "Y/N… Babe, I’m so sorry."

You looked down, your arms wrapping around yourself. "You hurt me, Lando. You didn’t just walk away, you made me feel like I was… too much."

He stepped closer, reaching for your hand again. "I was an idiot. I don’t even know why I said those things. I was frustrated, and I took it out on you. None of it was true. You’re not ‘too much.’ You’re… everything to me."

"I thought you didn’t want me anymore."

He swallowed, his voice barely a whisper. "That could never be true. I can’t imagine any of this, my life, racing, anything, without you." He brushed a stray tear from your cheek. "I was terrified you wouldn’t come. That I’d ruined everything."

You took a shaky breath. "Max convinced me… told me you didn’t want to leave, that you were just… scared of losing me."

"More than you know." He said, his hand holding yours firmly. "Please forgive me, Y/N. I’ll spend as long as it takes making it up to you."

"I don't want you to give up anything, Lando."

"I know. I know. That's not what you asked me."

After a long moment, you squeezed his hand. "I’m here now." You said softly. "Let’s just start with that."

Relief flooded his face as he wrapped you in his arms, holding you close, as if he never wanted to let go. "I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m grateful you’re here. I don’t want to mess this up ever again."

You gave him a gentle smile, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. "I didn’t come all this way to hold onto what happened. Let’s just… move forward. Together."

He smiled. "Together."

A knock on the door interrupted the moment. "Lando?" A team member called from the hallway. "They need you back in the garage in five!"

Lando glanced back toward the door, then returned his gaze to you, clearly torn. "Go!" You murmured. "I’ll be here when you’re done. I’m not going anywhere."

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. You melted into it, letting the last of the hurt dissolve in his warmth.

When he pulled back, he looked at you with a smile . "I’ll be quick." He said, squeezing your hand before reluctantly letting it go and heading toward the door. Just as he opened it, he paused, glancing over his shoulder one last time. "I love you."

"I love you too." You whispered.

[nochepsicodelica]

The door to your shared bedroom creaks open, and Toji is greeted by the sight of you sleeping. It's five in the afternoon and you're bundled up in the covers, soft breaths exiting through your mouth because your nose is congested. You look all cozy, like a hibernating bear, on his side of the bed. It would be a more adorable sight under different circumstances, but this is the product of you catching a cold.

Toji sets the small bag filled with your medicine and other little things he hopes will make you feel better, on his nightstand. He crouches down in front of you and brings a noticeably cooler hand to your heated cheek.

"Hey," Toji calls, gently pinching your cheek. Your hearing must be muffled, because you don't budge and remain in your deep sleep. "Ma," he tries again, shaking you by your shoulder this time. You stir and attempt to roll over in the other direction, towards the center of the bed, but Toji keeps you steady by tugging on the blanket you're cocooned in. "Wake up, mama. Just for a little. I got your stuff. Medicine, snacks— you probably won't be able to taste them, but they're there."

You open your eyes, and simply blink. The room is darker and more shadowy since you went down for your supposed nap. It's been hours, but your body still feels so tired and your head is pulsing.

"How are you feeling?" Toji asks.

You were trying to say "so so", but no sound came out, so it seemed like you were mouthing the words instead. You felt the effort your vocal cords made, but your voice was shot. Nothing is audible unless it's strained. A huff and a roll of your eyes let Toji know how bad of a time you were having.

"Gotcha," Toji responds to your attempt to speak, a soft smile on his face.

He stands up from his crouched position and turns to the bag on his nightstand, rummaging through it to grab the box of medicine at the bottom and your water bottle. He sees you untangling yourself from the covers and sitting up to rest against the headboard, in his peripheral vision. Your hair is messy, some of it is stuck to your forehead from how much you've been sweating, even though you've felt cold the whole time. You can't breathe properly out of your nose, and your throat is sore. Your entire demeanor just screams "sick".

Toji offers you two gel capsules and twists the cap off your bottle of water, before handing it to you as well. You toss the pills into your mouth, and wash them down with a swig of water. In an attempt to clear your nose, you sniff a few times, getting absolutely no change in your ability to breathe through your nose.

"Go back to sleep. I'll get you some soup for when you wake up, 'kay?"

You nod and slide back down the bed, shifting comfortably onto your side. The blanket is wrapped around you, again, and you're ready to shut your eyes. Toji comes closer, crouching down like he did when he woke you up.

"Mm-mm," you hum, the sound cracked and barely audible, a response to Toji leaning in and trying to kiss you.

"Come on, ma. It's been a whole day. Just one. A peck?"

"No," you whisper, only able to communicate verbally in this hushed voice.

"Oh. You want me to have two?" He says, with a playful smirk.

You give him a deadpan expression and shift in the blanket, bringing it up to cover your mouth.

"Okay, fine. Just one."

You shake your head, minimally. Just enough so that you don't shake your brain and make your head hurt even more, and he still gets the message.

"Be nice, mama. Just one, then i'll leave you alone--" he pauses, briefly, "--until I come back with your soup. Then you gotta give me another one. You know, Toji Tax."

You roll your eyes and huff. The Toji Tax is just Toji's way of getting extra loving from you. There's a Toji Tax on just about everything he does for you, so you're not surprised that your sickness doesn't exempt you from it.

Your reaction showed the signs that let Toji know that he's about to get what he wants. The barrier you raised over your mouth is lowered, your involuntary pout now on full display, ready to be kissed whenever Toji's ready.

"Don't look too excited," Toji jests. He chuckles at the gloomy expression on your face. You look absolutely miserable in this state. It's adorable, and while he would love to keep teasing you, he decides to move faster so that you can get your rest.

It starts with a peck—as promised. He's slow with separating his lips from yours, to keep the contact with you going for as long as possible. Then he goes in for another one—just as gentle and delayed in separation. You still haven't done anything to stop him, so he keeps going in for more and more, each kiss more fervent than the last. Within seconds, he's barraging you with quick kisses, back to back, as if to make up for the last twenty-four hours he went without feeling your soft lips against his. He's getting closer, almost climbing into bed with you, so you hum and turn your head. He starts following your movement, like an eager puppy, chasing after more of your kisses.

"Don't care if I get sick, ma."

You hum in disapproval and push his face away when he starts leaning in, again. Quickly, you cover your head with the blanket and roll to the other side of the bed.

Toji sighs, a mischievous smirk lingering on his face. He got way more than he expected, but when it comes to you, he can never have enough. He stands up from the awkward position he got himself into while he chased after your lips, and looks at your bundled up figure, now out of his reach.

"I'll be back, doll. Gonna go get your soup, but remember... Toji Tax."

[signanothername]

Could we have some soft/comfort headcannons about anyone of your choosing? It's election night and I really would like something soft for my brain to chew on instead of worry all night

Absolutely!

Imma give you a bunch of different little guys <333

———

Killer:

-his cats help him a lot with sleep problems, they make him calm enough to the point of actually closing his eyes whenever he’s with them (reminder that he usually sleeps with one eye open xhxbbx)

-after he’s saved, he gradually becomes better at eating, he still avoids food that reminds him of the past but becomes more accepting of other types of food, eventually getting his bone mass and weight back, going from lanky to chubby <3333

-he eventually accepts the state of his soul and instead of trying to fix it, he tries to understand it, understand himself, he becomes a lot more gentle with his own self

———

Color:

-he has albums upon albums full of pictures he took over the years, filled with places he visited, pictures of people he loves and moments he cherishes

-he’s very connected with so many people, and a lot of people find him to be a great confidant, he does a lot to help people where he can, he eventually gets the good he gave back with people taking care of him

-he’s in a queer platonic relationship with Delta and Epic

———

Nightmare:

-he has piles upon piles of gifts Dream gave him for their birthday over the years, he never got rid of any of them, these gifts are something he cherishes dearly

-he’s the one to introduce Killer to Ccino’s cafe, he actually did that with no ill intentions, and Nightmare himself is not really sure why he went out of his way to introduce Killer to the cafe

-he and Dream sometimes sit beside their mother in silence, just taking everything in, taking each other presence in, not talking or interacting, Nightmare feels peaceful during these moments, it’s the closest thing to the same feelings he had as a happy child

———

Dream:

-even though he has a fallout with Ink, he eventually remedies his relationship with them, they become best friends again

-whenever life gets too much, he goes to Swap’s house and stays with the swap bros, it helps immensely

-Dream never expects to receive anything on his birthday, that expectation is broken when he receives a gift from Nightmare, he never got another gift afterwards, it’s only that one gift, but it’s the entire world to him

———

Error:

-he thinks of Ink as his bestest friend in the world, he’d never admit that out loud tho dhdhhdhdh (they’re frenemies)

-he loves geno and Fresh dearly, they’re his proclaimed siblings, he’s more open about his love with them

-he actually takes commissions by making dolls for people who want them in exchange for chocolate as payment (his chocolate stock never runs out zgxggx)

———

Horror:

-He eventually finds a better relationship with food

-he succeeds at escaping from Nightmare and managing to keep his AU (and most importantly his brother) safe in the process

-he finds himself becoming best friends with Farm

———

Ink:

-his art is something others never see, but surprisingly, if you had the chance to see it, then you’d find it’s art the people they love most

-their fallout with Dream actually hurt him, so when he and Dream got back to being besties, they felt very happy about it

-he loves spending time with Color, Epic and Delta cause of their constant traveling habits, they’re very entertaining to be around

-while they spend most his time in the doodlesphere, the second place you’ll most likely see them in is with their parents in the omega timeline, he loves them with all his heart

———

These are the ones I can think of off the top of my head hdhdhdhdh hope they’re enough to rotate in your brain all day <333333

[a-student-out-of-time]

An Important Reminder In Trying Times

Hey everyone, Mod Bubbles here.

I know that I've said over and over that I don't like talking about politics on here, but I really feel the need to say this:

This Is Not The End.

I understand things probably seem really bleak right now. A lot of people are going to be hurt by this, and the sheer amount of fearmongering and worst case scenarios are inescapable. But the country and the world are not going to change overnight. To be honest, it may not change very much at all in the next four years. I'm not a political scientist, so I can't tell you that for sure. There's a lot to be concerned about.

What I can tell you, as a student of history, is this: not only have we survived this once, we have survived this every time.

Think about it this way: every single tyrant, every single right-wing representative, every single emperor and colonial power, every corporate scumbag and power-hungry lunatic. No matter how many of them have ever come to power, held onto power, and tried to make themselves seem invincible, not a single one has ever held back humanity's progress and not a single one has proven to be invincible.

There were countries throughout history, especially in the 20th century, that fell under brutal dictatorships and saw countless lives lost. Did the people just give up and accept it? Fuck no they didn't. They fought back. Many of them lived to see democracy restored to their lands in their lifetimes, or fought to see it restored in their children's.

From Europe to Latin America, while many countries still have their issues, they endured and their people have survived. Their governments were not invincible, just as none ever have been.

Regardless of the outcome of this election, the world will go on. People will not just roll over and accept whatever horrible things happen, the fight will continue and we will do everything in our power to carry on as we always have. We'll carry on to achieve bigger and better things.

Let me also be clear: if you feel the need to cry, please cry. If you're afraid, don't pretend you're not. If you're angry, allow yourself to feel that anger. But if you're seriously contemplating giving up or hurting yourself, please don't.

You may hear all this news and ask yourself, "Bubbles, what's the point? What can I do about all this?" I've felt that way too, I have for a long time. I understand completely. It's scary and overwhelming, but I'll tell you exactly what you can do to fight against that: you can be kind.

Do you want to know where the most tangible change in the world begins? It's never at the top. It begins with people like us on a communal level, where we reach out to help others. Whether that means we help our neighbors, our friends, or any strangers we can.

Going out of your way to start fights, looking for someone to blame based on the flimsiest justifications, and just being cruel because you're angry, those aren't how you change anything. Those just add to the problem.

Here's just some ideas on what you can do instead:

Get away from the news, stop doomscrolling, mute doomers, and turn the TV and news apps off. This will get you out of a negative feedback loop that'll make you feel worse and more powerless, which is what they're designed to do in order to maximize traffic.

Remember to eat, sleep, brush your teeth, take a shower, take your meds, and do everything else you need to do to stay healthy.

If you or someone else really feel like leaving the country for your own safety is best, you can still work do so. But please don't convince yourself that if you can't, it's over.

Give back to people as much as you can. Show the people in your life who support you that you care, and that all that they do for you matters.

Donate to good causes you believe in.

Stand up to bullshit whenever you see it.

Do not give up on your dreams and ambitions. One bad leader does not mean your future automatically ends. Stop worrying about any potential apocalypse in the future, because you can do that even on the best days, and instead work toward a future that you CAN achieve.

There's this pervasive and very inaccurate idea that it's only the president who gets to enforce policies on the country. This ignores governors, the House of Representatives, Congress, mayors, and the countless other leaders involved. And it ignores you.

You do not have to spend the next 3 years and 364 days doing nothing but feeling miserable. In fact, that's the last thing you should do. Fear and despair are the weapons they wield, and they only have as much power as you allow them to have over you.

If your view of politics is that you just have to vote for the "right one" and then everything will be utopian, or that if people vote for the wrong one" then we're headed for a terrible dystopian nightmare, I have to tell you that that is incredibly reductionist and also very dumb. I can also tell you from personal experience that it's not them who make the real changes where it's needed.

A friend sent me a video that really opened my eyes on this situation: Adam Conover, the guy behind Adam Ruins Everything, said he's not worried about all this. Why? Because he and some friends were able, through their own power, to make real positive changes in their community. They were able to bring homelessness down in their district by over 38% through their own efforts.

And he's right that, as a silver lining to all this, it made more Americans than ever take a stand against all the horrible shit they were seeing and get involved with solutions.

Speaking from my own experiences as well, when Hurricane Helene devastated my area, it wasn't the politicians who came and repaired roads and power lines, it wasn't them who brought in food and supplies to everyone, and it wasn't them who worked tirelessly to save people still in need. It was everyone in our local communities.

The people at the top have never really cared about anything more than your money and your vote, but the people around you care more than you may believe they would. Hell, even strangers on the internet care more than you'd believe.

Now, even if you've made it this far, you may be wondering "What about when he starts outlawing and banning things?" To that, I say look at Prohibition and see how well that went. Politicians have only ever operated under the idea that banning something will make it go away, and it always does the exact opposite. And if you're still worried, you can get involved with organizations that fight to support these things being available and regulated.

But by now, you may also be wondering "What if I can't get involved? What if I'm too young or I don't have the money, or my parents won't let me?"

Then just be kind.

Stop looking for enemies to blame. Don't martyr yourself for some nebulous cause or the idea that your suffering increasing means the rest of the suffering in the world will go down. Don't torture yourself by telling yourself that you didn't do enough.

Show compassion, show support, show love and genuine care toward people who need it, including yourself.

"But there's so many shitty people in this country and the world, why should I-" Stop thinking that way. This isn't about them, this is about you and how you can make a difference. There will probably always be shitheads and power-hungry morons, but that does not negate the fact that you can choose to be different. You can choose to be kind.

Kindness is a sword that you have to learn how to wield. Wield it responsibly and use it to help others. No matter how small or insignificant it may be, YOU DO MAKE A DIFFERENCE.

I say all this as a 29-year-old who spent most of his life feeling scared and miserable about so many current events, convincing myself I'm useless and selfish because I was worried about so much and I hated myself for all of it. And I've decide I'm not going to do that anymore.

During the last right-wing era, I managed to help build a whole community out of my love for Danganronpa. I created friendships, relationships, and there are people alive right now because I chose to do so. Because I chose to use that community for kindness. I want to keep building from there by going into streaming and reaching out to more people.

I won't lie to you and say that I'm not scared, because I am. But I'm also not going to let fear change who I am. I want us all to be better to ourselves and others, because that is how you defeat hate. It starts with you.

And if you're still concerned, let me share with you a quote from The Great Dictator, a movie made in 1940, when World War II wasn't even at its height yet:

To those who can hear me, I say - do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed - the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish…

Please take care of yourselves out there, everyone. We'll get through this, just as we always have.

[theonlymanny]

Bruce Wayne x Batdad Reader!

Being Bruce’s husband wasn’t as easy as you thought there were a lot of difficulties in your life while being married to him.But it was all good he loved and you loved him. Simply as that, you guys met because you where a famous singer and met at one of his galas.

At first he was all flirty and honoring his playboy persona. You didn’t show any interest at first because who doesn’t flirt with M/n. But Bruce was kind of charming and really nice. Beside everything you heard from him. And then you woke beside him in bed. “Oh my fucking-” anyway- let’s leave that behind.

After that night you thought he would leave you like it never happened and keep going on with his life, but surprisingly he invited you on a date. A couple years later you met Alfred a really nice person and enjoyed your company. And all of that disappeared because your 5 year boyfriend left you without a word for 10 fuckin years.

“Hey Alfred have you heard from Bruce I didn’t see him today” “oh master M/n… I thought you knew…” after that you promised to never trust anyone that easily, sure it affected you but you weren’t going to stop and be miserable. You decided to take out some new songs.

“M/N is back!” Your fans were going crazy! Everybody thought you quit the music career and left. And… Bruce well not like he didn’t care about you he just wanted to make a change. He was training to protect you and Alfred. And then he was there your “boyfriend” you were spending time with Alfred. You weren’t going to leave him alone for 10 whole years!

“H- hi umm…” Bruce looked at you. He looked much muscular and old… “ Alfred I think I should go…” you took your things and while you were about to open the door Bruce grabbed your hand. “Don’t you-” “please let me explain…” you lost right there “what Bruce!? Explain that you left me for 10 years!” Bruce was shocked. He remembered you much calmer and shy.

You let him explain why he leaved you. Because you were still young you gave him another opportunity. Some years later you met Richard or Dick who you protected with your life and refused to let him be robin. “Sweetheart please…” you refused to look at him “Bruce it’s too dangerous for a literal kid to be fighting grown ass men or women who want to hurt him!” Dick heard your discussion somewhat regretting he asked Bruce to be his sidekick. You saw Dick on the corner wanting to cry… “oh… Richard why are you crying?” “I’m sorry… I didn’t want you to fight I I- just wanted to help.” You sighed “I’m not sure if I’m going to regret this but… I guess you can go help Bruce…” Bruce smiled and Dick celebrated and hugged you. “Thank you!” You looked at Bruce and said darkly“Bruce if something happens you are going to regret being Batman” Bruce only laughed and hugged both of you.

After some years Dick grew older and became a teenager. “Hey Dick what do you want to eat today?” Dick really grew trust in you that he called you dad first than Bruce. “Dunno dad maybe some pancakes??” And while Dick and Bruce were patrolling Bruce found Jason a young boy trying to steal the Batmobile’s tires.

Jason really liked you he had a better relationship with you then Bruce or Dick. He would often ask you to read him books. It was like that until that day… Joker captured Jason. “hey Bruce!” When you went to the bat cave you only found Dick and Bruce. “Where’s Jason?” You were more then devastated when he died.

You and Bruce barely spoke, Dick tried to make you both love each other again, but he couldn’t even make you both sleep in the same bed. After 1 or 2 years Bruce decided to adopt another kid. Tim. That’s when you started thinking about divorce.

“Really!? Another kid you wanna harm this one too?” You started loosing respect from Bruce, but there was nothing you could do he was so stubborn.

In those years that Tim became and trained to be a robin. You also trained… to kill the guy that took your son. You learned how to use every weapon you had on your use, you where stronger and faster, and learned a lot of fight movements.

The day you heard your third son was captured… you didn’t let Bruce handle this. You went there by yourself with a shotgun,gun, rifle, a lot of more utensils that would help you get your son back.

The building was quiet there was no sign of life but only lifeless body’s all around you opened the door and automatically shot the Joker on his knee. “Aaaaaaaaah!” He screamed in agony while watching you above him. “Tim… go.” Tim looked at you and before he left he hugged you. “It will be okay…” after you made sure he left you grabbed a metal pipe and left the Joker on a wall. “Hahahahahahah! Let me guess you are going to kill me! WOW I’m so scared!” You looked at him angrily and hit him with the metal pipe. “ SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He spat blood all over the floor. “Batsy is not gonna let you kill me” he laughed quietly. “Well guess what… I will make sure he doesn’t interfere. And I my self will make sure you don’t take anyone else’s kid again” Joker looked confused but then realized. “You are robins Dad! Batman’s husband!” That name hurted you… “well guess what it was so fun I don’t regret it.” He was pushing your limits. You started breathing loudly and one by one you killed the man that killed your kid.

————————————————————————

Hey yall! I think this was my longest post but I hope y’all like it. I leaved a tlou reference In there. That’s all! There might be part 2 tho.

[berryz-writes]

Home

Lucien x reader

Summary: Lucien and you are finally living the dream. A new house and the love of your life with you, what else could you ask for?

note: First time writing for Lucien!! Aka @thelov3lybookworm husband ;) its also a teeny tiny fic/not as long because i genuinly dk whats going on with my life rn but i hope yall enjoy it <33

@lucienweekofficial(day 4)

The smell of paint wasn’t always my favourite. It had this weird tinge that I couldn’t get rid of no matter how many different scented candles I lit around the house. It felt as though the paint had crawled its way into my bed..... or maybe it was because my mate who had been painting the house was sleeping next to me.

One night he had been so tired Lucien simply rolled into bed, paint covered trousers still on and hugged me to his chest, ruining my nighties in the process. According to him my nighties now had a “splash of personality”. 

Safe to say they were in the bin and he had brought me three new pairs.

Tiptoeing into the living room I watched Lucien using a roller up and down the wall, the cream colour covering the once grey and dusty expanse. His back muscles were prominent, making me forget why I was even here as I simply watched him work.

He looked like he was enjoying the silence way too much, an idea to disturb him popping up immediately. Sneaking up on him from behind and dipping my finger in the paint can I painted a heart onto his muscled shoulder, the warmth of his skin making my fingers tingle.

I knew the second he felt my presence he could have turned around and stopped me but instead he let me finish my heart. The little things he did that made it feel like my heart was going to burst from the amount of love I had for him.

As I stepped back, admiring my work, Lucien's voice broke the comfortable silence. "Is this your new way of greeting me?" he murmured, the corners of his mouth lifting in that lopsided smile I knew so well. His eyes, golden flecks catching the light, held a glimmer of amusement, daring me to answer.

Instead, I dipped a finger back in the paint and touched it to his chest, leaving another little heart right above where his own beat steadily. He chuckled, and in one quick movement, his fingers found the paint can, swiping a cool, creamy streak along my nose before I could dodge.

"Oh, so that's how it's going to be, huh?" I grinned, grabbing a small brush from the tray nearby. The next few moments blurred into laughter and paint splatters, our voices filling the quiet room, as we playfully dodged each other's attacks.

Slowly the fighting came to a stop, of course after I got the last hit.

Before I could tell what was happening Lucien turned his face away, body angled away as his hand shot up to cover his eyes. My heart dropped in an instant, my smile faltering as I reached out instinctively. "Lucien? Are you alright?" I whispered, my voice laced with worry.

The playful tension melted into concern as I reached out, trying to pull his hand away. "Did the paint get in your eyes?"

He didn’t respond right away, his shoulders shaking slightly as he kept his face turned from me, his hand shielding his eyes. Panic rose within me, my heart pounding faster with each passing second.

“I’m sorry my love, here let me clean it. Don’t rub it, It’ll hurt even…” My words cut off as I gently turned his face to look at me and instead of paint on his face, there were tears running down his face. Heart breaking in two I cupped his face “What’s wrong?” whispering the words I brushed a thumb across his warm freckled cheek. 

His hands came to rest on my hips as he looked down at me with a small smile on his lips as the tears still came down. 

“Nothing”

“So why are you crying then?” Wiping away his tears I was confused as ever. Lucien wasn’t usually one to cry but when he did it broke my heart too.

“Because…” He took a deep breath as if trying to reign in his emotions and explain to me “Because everythings perfect. This- it’s all I've ever wanted. The love of my life with me, a place I can call home”

As Lucien took a breath, his voice barely a whisper, I felt an ache in my chest. His hands tightened on my hips, grounding himself in the moment, as if to reassure himself that this was all real—that I was here, that I was his, and that the life we were building together was more than just a fleeting dream.

"You've put so much into this place," I murmured, reaching up to run my fingers through his messy paint specked hair, still mussed from hours of painting and effort. "Every bit of it feels like you."

His lips tilted up at the ends as he looked down at me, his thumb gently tracing a small circle on my hip. "I wanted it to feel… right. Somewhere we can make memories."

I felt the weight of his words, each syllable filling the room with a profound vulnerability. He wasn’t just talking about paint and walls. This was a dream made tangible—a life he’d fought so hard to build. I remembered nights spent in my old apartment, fantasizing about places just like this.

"We will Lucien. I wouldn't want this with anyone else"

He looked down at me, his gaze warm and searching. His voice was a whisper as he admitted, "I never thought I’d fall in love again after...." It took him a moment as if pushing away the tide of emotions he was feeling "-after everything.... you are the light of my life, did you know?"

My heart swelled, and I couldn’t help but smile, cupping his face as I stood up on my tiptoes, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “So are you"

P.s: dnnfdhbfhjbdfb uhm luciens a cutie also ignore any mistakes <3 or feel free to tell me

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a Moment / Part 7

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 2.9k

Note : This chapter was quite nice to write. I’ve never had siblings but I’ve had people who I thought of as siblings so I hope the work translates to the reader and Yelena. Enjoy! 

Series Masterlist

“How did You Find Me?”

Tuesday.

Eventually, it was time for you to move back to your apartment. You knew it was coming, but the knowledge didn’t make it easier. 

You had spent far more time at Bucky’s than you intended. His presence had become a comfort to the quiet confusion you occupied.

The day of the move, Bucky was there, as he had always been.

As you stood in the foreign space of your apartment, he was there— helping you rebuild the space a version of you once called home.

The two of you worked in near silence, the kind that had become comfortable. 

Every now and then, he’d ask where something should go. You wouldn’t know, so you just pointed at where you thought made the most sense.

There was something methodical about the process of unpacking and rearranging. Back at the museum, you loved cataloging, so this should have been soothing. But it wasn’t. 

As you placed your clothes back into drawers and rearranged ornamental things on the shelves, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were putting together a puzzle with missing pieces.

Bucky didn’t ask how you were, didn’t try to force a conversation you weren’t ready for. 

He just helped. 

He dusted the shelves you hadn’t touched in months. He wiped down the counters that gathered layers of dust. Every now and then, you caught him checking to make sure you were okay. 

By the time the apartment was mostly back in order, the sun had set. 

This space, once yours, felt like it belonged to a stranger. This sense of detachment was unsettling, like you were an outsider looking in.

Bucky moved towards the door, though he hadn’t opened it yet. He stood there, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his slightly torn jacket.

“It looks like it used to,” he said quietly. You glanced at him, then back at the room. You nodded, trusting that it did.

Bucky took a small step toward the door. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say goodbye, but his eyes told you he didn’t really want to go. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” he said finally. He stood there, one foot in your apartment and the other in the hallway.

You felt a flutter of panic that made your chest tighten. The thought of him leaving— of being alone in this empty space— was unbearable. 

Before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. “Do you think… Can you stay? M-maybe for a couple weeks?”

Bucky blinked, surprised by your request. 

For a moment, you worried you’d said too much, that you’d crossed a line.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to be alone yet,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. 

The tension in his muscles melted away as he took a slow step toward you.  

When he spoke again, his voice was gentle. “Of course.” He said, “I’ll stay as long as you need.”

Wednesday.

Exhaustion finally pulled you into a restless sleep, but you didn't find any peace. 

It was the concrete again, heavy against your body. It collapsed around you, trapping you in a suffocating darkness. The cold scrape of rubble, the crushing weight, your muffled screams—  it was too much to process. You were desperate to escape. You were struggling to breathe. 

Then, you saw a tall figure walking towards you— Bucky! 

But the walls began to close in completely before he could get to you.

Suddenly, you felt rough hands on your shoulders, shaking you firmly. The world around you started to dissolve. 

You found yourself fighting against the intrusion.

You swung in self defense, fist connecting with something solid. A sharp grunt of pain finally pulled you back into the present. 

Jolting awake, you realized you were in your bedroom. Bucky crouched next to you, clutching his jaw.

“Oh, God—Bucky! I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—” you stammered, horrified.

His eyes softened relieved that you were awake, despite the slight bruise. 

He waved it off.” It’s okay,” he murmured, taking the punch surprisingly well. “I’ve had worse.”

You looked at the clock on your bedside table that read 01.00 AM. 

Had you only been asleep for two hours? 

“You were having a nightmare,” he told you.

You sat up, clutching the blankets to your chest. You couldn’t remember all the details, but terror settled in your bones anyway.

“I’m gonna stay here,” he said. His voice was calm, almost casual, almost waiting for your permission. “Just in case.”

Maybe you should just tell him to go back to the guest room, brush it all off with a forced laugh, or apologize profusely for punching him.

But the idea of being alone again, left to wrestle with the dark corners of your mind, was unbearable. 

You managed a nod. 

He eased himself beside you. He stayed above the covers, respecting the boundary between your space and his.

For a while, neither of you spoke. Bucky simply leaned back, propping himself on one arm, his other hand close to yours but not quite touching.

Eventually, he broke the silence. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head. It was too soon to put the fear into words. Bucky nodded, and you were grateful for it. He leaned back, his head resting against the headboard.

After a few moments, you let out a shaky breath.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured. “I’m right here.”

Slowly, hesitantly, you let your eyes shut, listening to the calm, reassuring sound of his breathing. Each rise and fall of his chest became an anchor, something to focus on beyond the remnants of your nightmare. 

The bed dipped slightly as he adjusted, inching closer. His human hand laid next to yours, a quiet offer of comfort if you wanted it.

Finally, you shifted closer, curling into the warmth of his presence. His arm wrapped around you, gentle and protective.

You didn’t think you could fall asleep again, but with him there, the crushing weight in your chest began to ease.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered.

Saturday.

You started feeling at home again. 

As your eyes drifted to the former winter soldier readjusting flowers in your vase, you started to think that  maybe home didn't mean a place. Maybe home, to you, was a person.

Each morning he made you coffee, handing you a mug without a word. He offered to help with laundry. Slowly, he started moving his things here. His clothes. His toothbrush. His shoes.

He didn’t hover, but he was always around, as if he could tell when the walls began to feel like they were closing in. Sometimes, he’d catch you staring out the window, lost in thought, and he’d nudge you gently. Other times, he’d suggest small things to keep you anchored—a walk around the block, a stop at the corner store for groceries, or a quiet evening watching old movies. 

Today, you had trailed your fingers on his jaw, looking at the spot you had punched him in your sleep several days ago. You were amazed at how the bruise that formed was no longer there. Guess it made sense— super soldier healing and all. 

If only the bruises in your mind healed that quickly.

The nightmares didn’t vanish, but they started to lose their edge. When they came, they didn’t feel quite as suffocating, partly because when you’d wake, he’d be there.

He stayed in the guest room most nights, but if you needed him, he’d be there without question, laying with you until morning.

He tried to act as if he was happy with this being casual, being platonic. 

Sure.

Sunday.

Today, you found yourselves on the couch after a long day of training. Bucky had brought over a couple of old records he’d picked up from his storage room, and you both took turns picking the next one to play. 

At one point, you caught him watching you. 

When you looked over, he didn’t look away, didn’t try to hide the way he was studying your how your eyes lingered on his. 

After a moment, Bucky’s expression grew thoughtful.

“You know, that nightmare you keep having... with the concrete ?” He paused, meeting your eyes, weighing whether he should continue. “That’s actually what happened during the mission.”

You felt your chest tighten. "What do you mean?"

“I was part of the rescue team that went in to get you out.” He took a steadying breath. “I was the one who found you underneath the rubble.”

“You… saved me,” you whispered, trying to piece everything together. “I must’ve hit my head before you got there. I think I— I’ve lost them by then..”

He nodded, “You said you see me in your dreams sometimes,” His voice softened. “I was probably the first person you saw after hitting your head.”

Oh.

Bucky had been your first new memory in four years, the first face you’d seen after the darkness. All the quiet pull you’d felt toward him suddenly made sense. 

The strange safety you felt with Bucky—finally made sense. For once, something made sense.

It’s been so fucking long since anything made sense.

Tears slid down your cheeks, slow at first, then everything spilled over. 

The sobs came hard. When your shoulders shook, Bucky pulled you into his arms without hesitation. His hand moved gently along your back as the record skipped quietly in the background. 

He didn’t say a word. He just held you, knowing how much you needed this release. 

When the tears finally eased, you managed a weak, watery laugh. “So,” you joked. “I basically imprinted on you like a little gosling.”

He chuckled. “Lucky me.”

Monday.

The museum was unusually quiet, just the soft hum of ventilation and the muffled steps of a few wandering visitors. Maybe the laugh of a couple school kids pointing at the Homo Erectus display. 

You said hi to Alex before making your way in. 

You and Yelena moved through the halls. She had suggested the museum for your post-training catch-up today, knowing how familiar this place was to you. 

As you strolled through the Ancient Greek exhibit, you pointed at a sculpture that caught your attention.

"That's Mnemosyne," you said, "The goddess of memory."

Yelena looked at the statue with a curious squint. “There’s actually one for that?”

You nodded, feeling a faint sense of purpose as you explained. “In Orphism, which is this really interesting ancient Greek tradition, they believed the newly dead would drink from the River Lethe, which would make them forget their past lives. But if you drank from the river of memory—Mnemosyne—you’d remember everything and be free from the cycle of reincarnation.”

She turned to you, giving a small, almost mischievous smile. “And here you are, teaching me about memory after you’ve lost four years of it. Irony’s got a sense of humour.”

You chuckled, though the joke stung. “Drinking from Mnemosyne’s river would be pretty useful right about now.” Your tone was light, but the longing was unmistakable.

Yelena looked back at the statue. “Maybe you’re not supposed to get those years back,” she said thoughtfully. “Maybe… they’re not important.”

There was a comfort in her words, as if forgetting allowed you to live in the present. To be new. To be whoever you decided you wanted to be.

After a while, you both settled on a bench in a quieter part of the gallery. The moment felt calm, with only the gaze of painted portraits and ancient relics to overhear you. 

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” you started, the words slipping out quietly. “It’s about Bucky.”

Her brow lifted slightly, leaning in. “Oh?”

“He’s been staying with me.” You took a deep breath. “Sometimes he stays in my room. He’s been helping me regulate my nightmares.”

Yelena listened, her features falling as she gave you a small nod of encouragement.

"I think…” you trailed off, heart fluttering nervously, “I think I’m falling in love with him.”

Yelena’s expression stayed steady, but her eyes sharpened a bit. She nodded, but her face was unreadable.

“I’m happy for you,” she said, though there was a hint of hesitation that you didn’t catch. “You sound… at peace with him.”

Relief washed over you in waves. Yelena’s support mattered to you in ways you didn’t quite understand.

“I feel safe with him,” you admitted, a smile spreading across your face. “I don’t know how to tell him yet, but… it’s just nice to feel… something real.”

She reached across, giving your hand a small squeeze. “You deserve to feel safe.” 

Her fingers lingered hesitantly before she let go.

An edge flicked behind Yelena’s eyes, a tension you couldn’t quite place. You thought it was just worry, the way she’d been looking out for you ever since everything went blank. 

But her mind was piecing together things she knew about Bucky that you’d forgotten— that she wasn’t sure you were ready to hear.

As you shared more— about how Bucky had held you through the worst of your nightmares, how he stayed without ever asking anything in return— she listened. 

She didn’t want to shatter the peace you’d found, not when you were finally beginning to reclaim your life. 

Still, she knew there were parts of Bucky that could change everything if they came to light.

She had thought, naively, that Bucky would tell you. Maybe he was just waiting for the right moment

But the way you spoke about him made it clear he wouldn’t.

Wednesday.

Yelena found Sam in the gym, his back to her as he worked through the last of his reps. 

Sam took a seat on the bench, ready to hear her out. 

She didn’t waste any time. She said your name, voice barely above a whisper.

Sam knew Yelena was protective of you, especially now, after everything you’d been through. "Go on," he coaxed.

Yelena’s hands clenched into fists. 

"She’s falling in love with Barnes, Sam." Her voice wavered, and she looked away for a second, like the thought of you being hurt was something she couldn’t bear. "But she doesn’t know what he was like before."

Sam’s shoulders slumped.

“I know,” he started. “But I don’t think he’s just pretending to care."

“But she doesn’t know.” Yelena’s voice cracked. "She doesn’t know he’s… he’s just trying to undo the damage he caused in the first place. I can’t let her fall for someone who’s hiding her own past from her." She took a shaky breath, blinking back the tears. 

You were the first person who came as close as a sister to her since Natasha... and losing the last four years you had together had been harder on her than she'd like to admit. Losing you to grief, losing your trust? That would break Yelena.  "She deserves the whole story. She deserves a choice.”

“It’s not that simple.” Sam looked away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "I saw him. In the hospital, before she woke up. He was there, holding her hand, talking to her for days as if she could hear. He wouldn’t leave. He wouldn’t let her be alone."

Bucky had faced what she couldn’t bring herself to — he’d seen you at your lowest, at the brink of death. When Yelena first heard what had happened, she had locked herself to waste away in her apartment, sinking to the floor as sobs destroyed her body. 

She couldn’t go to see you— how could she?

She couldn’t bring herself to see even a hint of bruising on you. Couldn’t bear to witness the blood pooling on your head, the cuts on your limbs.

Hearing Sam tell her what happened to you had reminded her of losing Natasha.

The fear had paralyzed her. She couldn’t bear to see you unconscious, clinging to life by a fragile thread.

She hadn’t been there then, but Bucky had.

"It doesn’t change what he’s hiding.” She murmured, barely audible. “If he really cares about her, then he should be brave enough to tell her the truth.” Her voice trembled. “If she finds out he’s only with her to make up for his mistakes, to… to fix some guilt inside him, it’ll destroy her.”

No one’s allowed to destroy her, she thought, not after everything she had been through. 

“It's not just guilt.” Sam insisted. "Every time I see them together, it doesn’t look like he’s trying to atone. I know Bucky much better than you do. It looks like he’d finally realised what he’d— that he’d… that he loves her.”

No, Yelena thought. She knew he always had feelings for you but there's no way he loves you more than I do. 

She’d been there first; she knew you better than anyone, knew the sound of your laughter and the quiet sadness you tried to hide. She had loved you, the way she’d loved Natasha—like family. You were her sister in every way but blood.

But now, watching the way you talked about Bucky, the way he seemed to carry your pain as if it were his own... 

Maybe he did love you more, in ways she couldn’t, in ways she’d never even considered. 

“He still needs to tell her the truth,” her voice was much softer now,  though no less fierce. “He owes her that much."

“Then talk to him,” Sam nodded. “Make him see what’s at stake.”

“And if he doesn’t tell her?” Yelena blinked. "I can’t watch her fall apart. Not again."

“Neither can I.” Sam’s voice strained as he packed his things into his duffel bag, "But let him try. Give him more time.”

Time.

Yelena knew better than most people that time was just a cruel joke running circles around mortals like her.

And she was getting impatient.

-to be continued…

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[beef-brisket]

((Yess- get it Adam!))

Charlie helped her father up. She would feel back. The size difference between them made it look like Adam just suckerpunched a kid. But in a way, Lucifer deserved it. That wasn't even half of the amount of pain Adam went through.

Charlie: You're fine, dad.lets go home and have a few week long sleep, huh? You always liked those.

Lucifer: I did... all right. You've convinced me.

Charlie rolled her eyes. It's not hard to convince her dad to sleep. Apart from cooking, it's his second favorite thing to do.

Adam felt ecstatic. He was going to trust the girl- but he was glad that he did.

His beautiful dick is back! AND he socked that short fuck in the face. What a great fucking day. He even handed his report in early, so now he thinks it's time to fucking party. Maybe a lone. He doesn't feel like being surrounded by assholes.

Before going home, Adam went to the bottle store and got a few different things. He even got him a $150 whiskey. His favorite brand, too. It was a gift to himself. He's had a wild few days.

Cashier: ...This is a lot...

Adam: What are you? The math police? I've got the money, man. I just got NY dick back, so I'm celebrating.

Cashier: Uh... congrats?

Adam felt the store with his bounty. He was around $300s lighter, but fuck it. He wants to get shit face. He deserves it.

Charlie: There you go dad.

Charlie pulled a blanket over her father.

Lucifer: Thanks, hun. Are you going to sleep to?

Charlie: Not yet, but I will. I'll come check on you first.and make sure you're okay.

Lucifer smiled and cupped his daughters cheek.

Lucifer: I know... this has been a lot for you. With your mother being a... ass. And... everything else. I know I went about it wrong- but I'm so happy you're here, Charlie. My beautiful daughter. My love. Thank you for sticking with me.

Charlie smiled and kissed her dad's forehead. She knows he means well he just has a hard time figuring out the right way to get his point across.

Charlie: I love you to dad. And I'm proud of you for apologizing to Adam. I know it didn't end well, but I can tell he appreciated it. So, we'll done.

Lucifer blushed. He wasn't used to being praised: Thank you, Char.

Charlie smiled and left her dad alone to sleep. His face hurt like a bitch. Avalanche - ADAM- has a good hit. Strong.

Lucifer slowly fell asleep.

I know that Halloween is over but I still gotta talk about this Hocus Pocus au I thought up

(Human) Adam just moved to Salem, the witch capital of the U.S and the whole town is telling ghost stories of Lucifer Morningstar, the famous male witch who swore he’d be back to take revenge on the townspeople before he was hung by the neck until dead.

Adam thinks this is a crock of shit, so he and his new friend Lute and his sister Emily sneak into Lucifer’s house (which has since been turned into a small museum) legend tells that Lucifer can only return if a virgin lights the black flame candle and Adam is being less than honest about his sexual exploits to his new friend.

As a joke to freak them both out he lights the candle. Unfortunately for him, it works and the witch appears in a violent gust of wind

That’s all I got but I just like the idea of Adam trying to escape from witch Lucifer

MY DUDE I LOVE THIS!!! @fanofstuff01 @beef-brisket

And I'm going to have him and Lute be like freshmen in college so Adams like 19-20 and Emily is like say a senior in high school her and Adam are a year apart.

And yes they had Emily out trick or treating because she's short en to get away with it and said "teenagers are allowed candy too".

-

Lute: Adam come on this isn't funny, the curse is real.

Adam: It's not real because witches and magic aren't real. The trails were just so they could hang a bunch of people who didn't agree with their beliefs.

They looked around the museum house and at night it's creepy especially being in the woods. Emily turned on a light so they could see.

Emily: Can we go?

Adam: No look at all this cool stuff! And that book? Says it's bound in real human flesh...... Gross.

Lute watched as Adam went over to the black candle.

Lute: Don't light that! If a virgin lights the candle it's said that Lucifer Morningstar will come back from the dead.

Adam burst out laughing: Good thing I'm not a virgin then.

Emily raised a brow: You only dated Eve for like a week.

Adam: You can have sex in a week!

The truth was they only made out a little bit and then her folks didn't want her having a boyfriend until after she graduated from high school.

So yes, Adam is a virgin. But his fucking sister doesn't need to know that!

He pulled out his lighter and smirked, curses and magic what a load of shit.

Lute: Adam no!

Adam lit the candle: See, nothing to-.....

The house started to violently shake, the floorboards glowed underneath and a laughter could be heard.

Lute: The fuck!?

Emily glared at Adam: A virgin lit the candle.

Adam: W-what!? It's okay! I'll just blow it out!

He blew out the candle but the flame came back.

Lute and Emily's eyes went wide when they saw a man that matches Lucifer's picture come out from the back room.

Lucifer: And who do I owe the pleasure to? Hmm? Oh, you.~

Adam turned around and jumped, what the fuck!?

Lute: We should go.

Adam: Good idea.

They all turn to run out the door, Emily and Lute make it out but the door slams in Adams face locking him in.

Adam: Fuck!

Emily bangs on the door: Adam!!

Adam tried pulling on the door but it was no use. Chills crept up his spine when a low laugh echoed in the room. He turned to see Lucifer standing there with his book now in hand.

Lucifer: Oh, you weren't leaving already were you?~

[ashthewaterghoul]

’Cause It Still Makes My Blood Run Cold To Remember What I Did Before - A Banana!Verse One Shot

In the pits, Fire Ghouls were nothing if not warriors; their worth was found in defending and protecting what they held dear while fighting the threat head-on. The latter part may not be possible right now, but if Alpha could keep them all safe, shield them from the torment they’d all been subject to, he would take the looming darkness and become it. His flames were strong enough to stay burning in the dark fog he consumed, yet it just killed him a little more every time he did it. Taking him apart stitch-by-stitch and unravelling him from his very soul outwards. As time went on, he had to wonder when that last stitch would rip open, and he dread to think what the result would be. Or, Alpha has a lot of feelings after mating with Dew, and having to be oh-so-cruel to him to keep him safe from Sister's torment.

Words: 2.6k

Relationships: Alpha/Dew, mentioned Air/Earth and Terzo/Omega

Tags: Angst, feels, nightmares, self-hatred, self-worth issues, mating bond, Alpha needs therapy, suicide by drowning shown in a dream sequence, suicidal thoughts, Alpha is an asshole, but he gets better kinda, one shot, era ii Ghouls wear veils.

Inspired by @anotherbananasong 's amazing universe! I'm like 99% sure this can be read if you're not familiar but obviously I'm going to recommend her blog!!

Title from 'Missing Limbs' by Sleep Token

~~~

    Dew shot upright in a cold sweat that instantly evaporated away against his warm skin. His breathing was frantic, his heart beating from his chest and for the life of him couldn’t focus enough to feel the electricity thrumming along the bond that tied him to Alpha.

    Alpha himself was in his room deep down in the catacombs. It wasn’t the deepest as that belonged to Lake’s subterranean lair, but it was still deep. Alpha too, was deep but in his own mind. His own loathing for himself.

Read below the cut or on ao3

    Alpha did initially detest himself for ruining Dew’s life by mating with him - for desecrating something as precious as the little Fire Ghoul with the sheer and utter monstrosity that was his existence. Yet there was something so tempting and alluring about Dew’s flames dancing in his own soul that made him want to swallow his pride and just be a good mate, asshole-façade be damned.

    But that façade would have to stay for a little while. That Satan-forsaken summons to Sister’s office that would damn him and his mate to years of pain that burned deeper than any flame ever could.

    “If you even go near this mate-”

    “I’m not scared of you, you old hag.”

    “Oh, but you should be, Ghoul. He’s highly unstable right now. No one would question if he didn’t pull through.”

    “If you hurt him…”

    “Secondo and Terzo aren’t here to protect you anymore. Test me, if you’d like.”

    And while Alpha would usually see that and indeed test someone, something about the liveliness bouncing across the bond in his soul made him realise he could never let Sister hurt Dew again. The forced transformation and killing their Papas were more than enough…

    So instead, Alpha would hurt Dew. Bold displays of neglect and disinterest so there was no fuel to add to Sister’s bonfire of tyranny. He’d do everything he could to make sure Dew never fell for him, to push him away, to keep him safe.

    The long nights Alpha would spend sobbing for what he puts Dew through were only mildly comforted by the fact that he was keeping Dew safe. That’s what a good mate did, right? They kept the other safe. So, in a perverse way, Alpha was being a good mate. But then, for a second, he would acknowledge the bond that bound him to Dew and his entire being would be wracked with the desolation and misery that Alpha left the little one in. The biting words, the harsh treatment, the shunning and dismissal and cruelty that Alpha would inflict in what was his best effort to keep Dew safe.

    It worked, and he hated himself for it.

    He translated it onto the rest of his pack too. He’d rip into River for being a cry-baby, he’d contribute to Air’s status as a walking mattress, and poke at Earth for choosing such a used-up Ghoul for his mate. He’d jab at the suffocating void of grief Omega was left in following the brutal demise of Terzo, his favourite Papa and paramour, and Lake... Well, Lake wasn’t really around enough for Alpha to cause much damage which, deep down, he let himself be thankful for.

    In the pits, Fire Ghouls were nothing if not warriors; their worth was found in defending and protecting what they held dear while fighting the threat head-on. The latter part may not be possible right now, but if Alpha could keep them all safe, shield them from the torment they’d all been subject to, he would take the looming darkness and become it. His flames were strong enough to stay burning in the dark fog he consumed, yet it just killed him a little more every time he did it. Taking him apart stitch-by-stitch and unravelling him from his very soul outwards. As time went on, he had to wonder when that last stitch would rip open, and he dread to think what the result would be.

    When Earth beat him up as a “lesson” he just laid back and took it. He knew he deserved it. And he wanted it to be a lesson, he wanted to listen and be able to love Dew. But he couldn’t. Not without risking the little firefly he was trying so hard to protect. Ripping himself apart to keep Dew safe, that was all that mattered. And it certainly mattered more than any silly little feelings Alpha had.

    When news had reached the Ancients that Sister had died, Earth and Air cried in relief that maybe the cruelty the Clergy had subjected them to under her rule could finally end. Alpha took a while before he realised the same could be for him and Dew.

    From that point, he counted down the days until the little one had returned from tour. When he could feel the bond was less stretched with distance, and that Dew was home, he actually found himself smiling for the first time in… years, he realises.

    Out of a habit he knows shouldn’t need to exist anymore, he sneaks from the catacombs in the middle of the night, and up to Dew’s room. Dew had stood in his doorway, vape in hand and looking completely annoyed by Alpha’s mere presence.

    “Alpha, if you’re here to hatefuck, then I’m really not in the mo-”

    But Dew is cut off by the most gentle, yet somehow most passionate kiss Alpha had ever given him. More gentle than their night together before Dew’s last tour with Terzo, or even the night they mated.

    Alpha pulled back and both Fire Ghouls had tears in their eyes.

    It took all of about two seconds before Dew pulled Alpha down by his veil and kissed him again. And Alpha did his best to make up for lost time. He was so gentle and tender with Dew; hailing him like a deity and worshipping him like one too. Treating him so preciously and delicately and with every ounce of love and care his body could muster. Words were never his strong suit, only when they were laced with his Fire and venom, so he said everything with his body instead.

    The moment that Alpha silently opened up his side of the bond completely, for the first time ever in the years it had been there, and Dew could finally feel the outpouring of love and affection that Alpha had been holding for him this whole time, they both cried. The sheer relief on their souls from their bond not painfully weighing them down anymore made their hearts feel so full and their souls whole. Alpha’s eyes may have been misted over with tears, but he’d never forget the look on Dew’s face. He even took his veil off, and Dew cried even more. One smaller hand instantly went up into the larger Ghoul’s dark hair and he pulled him back down to kiss him, desperately holding onto him.

    Alpha’s only words were a repeat of what he hoped Dew had always known is true, “You are so loved.”

    And this time he dared to add, “And by no one more than me.”

    But it wasn’t all smooth sailing from that point. Alpha didn’t know how to be a good mate. He was a shit stain on the universe, and he deserved to be nowhere near Dew. Even the deepest pits of Hell were too kind for him. He found himself slipping into old habits of lashing out, and pushing Dew away, refusing to let such a bright spark drown himself out with Alpha’s atrocious presence.

    Often, Alpha contemplated walking down to Lake’s domain and asking him to take him to rest in the depths. He knows Lake would do it, and even if he didn’t, Alpha would throw himself down and let himself be taken by the current.

    He thought there would be a certain beautiful irony that he would die surrounded by his beloved’s true element, taken from him too soon and too violently. Dew felt his Water be eviscerated by flames, Alpha would feel his Fire suffocated by Water and leaving Dew’s to burn alone by himself. Maybe that would leave a nicer life for the little one.

    But as Dew fell asleep alone one night, that was exactly what he saw. He saw his mate as he was now; confused and scared and not knowing what to do in a whirlpool of distress and loathing - hating himself for how he’s treated his mate and pushing Dew away still. Dew saw him get up, and go down to see Lake.

    “I can’t.” Alpha said, “Take me, please. I can’t live knowing what I’ve done to him.”

    And Lake obliges. He stays completely unglamoured, fins and webbings out so he can have more power in the water. Alpha remains glamoured for the opposite reason. He wants to be weak, because he has been all along. He doesn’t deserve to be strong now, at the end when he wasn’t strong enough to stand up to Sister in the first place. Dew is the one that’s strong, not him. The little light there is down there fades as Alpha’s dragged deeper and deeper down, and his veil comes off and floats up to the surface. Alpha tries to reach for it, because it’s the same colour as Dew’s eyes. But Lake swims and pushes him down faster and faster and Alpha knows he doesn’t deserve that comfort either.

    As Alpha’s lungs burn for oxygen, his chest spasms for relief, all he can think off is the panic and confusion he feels from Dew as he races down to the catacombs, only for Lake to later present him with his mate’s lone veil. And Alpha dares to ask Dew to forgive him before his last ember dies out.

    As Dew woke, he felt as though it was real. That he’d just somehow witnessed his mate’s death through his unconscious. His mind was in such a state of panic that he couldn’t focus enough on the bond that told him Alpha was indeed still alive.

    Dew didn’t bother to put anything on his feet as he raced out of his room in only his boxers and one of Alpha’s t-shirts that was more like a dress on him. He needed to see Alpha. Whether it was him or his body or veil, he had to see him.

    He thinks his runs and sobs and shouts for his mate may have woken up Astra but he’d apologise to Air and Earth later. Alpha’s door was open and the Ghoul himself was part-way out before Dew’s heart could scream anymore.

    “Dew? What’s wrong?” Alpha asked, having felt Dew’s frenzy and sadness bleed down the bond.

    “D- don’t l- l- leave me!” Dew wheezed as he held onto Alpha for dear life, his sprint down to the catacombs combining with his panic leaving him entirely unable to breathe.

    “I’m never leaving you again, little one.” Alpha promised as he held Dew, lifting him up so they could lay in his nest.

    Dew couldn’t stop crying or get his breathing back under control and Alpha was at a loss. He remembered how he saw Earth snuggling into Air once, apparently it helps his anxiety. So, despite the size difference that would be comical in any other situation, Alpha wrapped his arms around Dew’s waist and laid on top of him, with his head on his abdomen and put his weight down so he acted as an assuring and grounding presence. It worked as Dew’s sobs quietened, and his breathing slowed to something more normal. Dew found himself fidgeting with Alpha’s hair and horns also, a mindless habit he didn’t even realise he was doing until he was back in his own body.

    As Dew calmed down and explained his nightmare, Alpha’s fiery blood managed to run cold.

    “It felt s- so real.” Dew whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek to join the rest, voice still shaking with adrenaline and emotions.

    Alpha swallowed thickly, “It wasn’t, I promise, firefly.”

    “Don’t l- let it be real, ever. Please, Alfie?” Dew asked him with big wet eyes.

    Alpha raised himself up from his living-weighted-blanket position and looked straight into Dew’s eyes, a large calloused palm resting on Dew’s cheek.

    “I won’t let it be real.” Alpha affirmed.

    “I have y- you now, and I don’t want t- to lose you, ever. Th- the bond, and having you, I- I never want to go without it again.” The little one said. And he was so painfully little as he curled up against Alpha’s chest, a pointed ear over his heartbeat and a hand over his pec to feel his warm body and steady breathing.

    When Dew’s adrenaline and post-breakdown-exhaustion caught up with him and took him back to sleep in Alpha’ arms, the larger Ghoul just hated himself more.

    For it being something he so often thought about, dare he say fantasised about, and now seeing how it just being a nightmare to Dew hurt him so much, he only despised himself more for thinking he could ever leave Dew in that much pain.

    Once he had promised that he would never make for a good mate, so he would never even try. Now, he doesn’t think he’d ever be able to forgive himself for all the hurt he caused.

    Dew is the lighthouse in the storm that is Alpha’s self-hatred. Originally, he wanted to hate Dew. For making him feel noticed, for choosing him, for luring him in like the Syren he used to be. Then he wanted to hate Dew for giving him life again, a reason to live, for being the tinder for the dying embers of his soul. Dew became the reason Alpha’s flames could burn so so bright, but then he had to repay it by stamping out Dew’s own.

    Dew had mentioned to Air he almost feels as though he’s Water again. Because he is just the most powerful tidal wave of love for his mate that he never lets up on, and he uses it to slowly corrode away the behemoth of a wall that Alpha’s put up.

    And Dew is so happy now. His flames have been burning brighter than ever as they happily danced alongside Alpha’s. Alpha doesn’t think he could ever bring himself to hurt Dew again, which he knows is a good thing. But Dew forgave him so easily, even without knowing the threat of Sister’s cruelty was the reason behind it all, and Alpha knows it would kill him if he ever betrayed Dew again. Yet now he’s seen how Dew reacts to even just a mirage of his deserving demise; how could he ever even think about putting Dew through the real thing?

    Alpha had desecrated his gift from Lucifer too many times, defiled his pure and beautiful soul with his horrid treatment. He wanted so badly to make up for it, yet he found himself completely unworthy. Despite the long and arduous process of healing they’d both go through, Alpha knows there is always going to be a very loud and obnoxious part of his mind that will always make him hate himself. And while Dew would be there to constantly adore and reassure Alpha - being the tsunami of love to drown anything else out - Alpha would often find himself listening to that obstinate part. Spiralling to the voice of unreason that told him to shut Dew out again because he truly didn’t deserve such a gorgeous little firefly to be his.

    Alpha couldn’t decide what was worse. Dew finding someone who was actually worthy of him, or giving in and loving his mate in every way he deserves and more.

One shot master post can be found here!

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

Please 🙏🏻 please 🙏🏻 please 🙏🏻 can I get your thoughts on yandere dom Hal Jordan‼️

Begging on my knees ❗️❗️

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐀𝐋 𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐍…

!!! 18+ THEMES, GN reader, heavy non-con elements, coercion, mentions of manipulation/intimidation/threats/kidnapping, semi-public, jealousy, possessiveness, biting, slightest mention of a possible cannibalism kink, brief daddy/sir kink, praise, degradation, angry sex, rough sex, somno, cockwarming, Hal is a menace to society and absolutely disgusting (I say as I drool over him).

This ask is giving me psychic damage in the best way possible.

Hal does not take “no” for an answer. It doesn’t matter if his charm and charisma doesn’t work on you; he’ll find a way. Maybe he just needs to sprinkle in a little manipulation, or somehow scare you into his welcoming arms. Is that also not working? Hm, as much as he hates being the bad guy, he’s not afraid to use intimidation and threats towards you if the ends justify the means. Still not working? Well, damn. Guess he has to kidnap you. And to think this all could’ve been avoided if you hadn’t been so difficult.

This man is absolutely shameless, unable to keep his hands off you even in public. Yes, it gets ten times worse when he’s jealous. If it comes down to it, he absolutely will drag you off for a quick fuck. Does that make him a tiny bit possessive? Maybe. But, hey, for what it’s worth, he’s great with his mouth. Your pleasure usually comes before his; it’s the least he could do before he fucks you into oblivion.

Hal’s definitely a biter. There, I said it. And not just little nips, either. I’m talking full-on teeth marks on your shoulder, deep enough to bruise or even draw blood. This kind of goes hand in hand with his possessive side and maybe a hint of a cannibalism kink?? We don’t have time to unpack that, so we’ll leave it at what I know for sure: Hal Jordan thinks it’s very hot when you have bite marks all over your body. Especially when you’re wearing his jacket over them.

And if I say daddy kink, will y’all come after me? Cuz, yes, Hal is disgusting like that. He’d be over the moon if you hit him with the d-word. But, hey, he’ll take a “yes, sir” or “no, sir” just fine, too. Compromise, amiright?

When it comes to dirty talk, Hal can dish out praises and degrading comments equally. I think it depends on how much coercion he had to do; he’ll praise you if you took the easy way, degrade you if you took the hard way. Simple as that. Though this also depends on what you’re into. Again, your pleasure usually comes before his, so he makes mental notes on what you like.

Speaking of coercion though, remember that Hal doesn’t take “no” for an answer. Your choices are the following: accept his advances, or be forced to accept his advances. Should he need to force you a little, he’ll start off encouraging (“it’s okay, I’ll make you feel good, I promise”), then get a little more pushy (“come on, you know better than this”), until he’ll eventually just take what he wants (“hey. Stop struggling. I don’t wanna hurt you”). While he somewhat recognizes what he’s doing is wrong, he easily justifies it by reminding himself it was your choice to do this the hard way.

“Shh, everything will be fine, babe. Just let me take care of you. Yeah, there you go… you put up one hell of a fight. I’m sure you’re tired.”

God, he is an absolute menace when he wants to be. Should you ever piss him off, there’s a chance he’ll fuck his frustrations into you. This man has enough stamina to go for a long time, so I wouldn’t recommend testing him. Unless if you’re fine with not being able to walk for a couple of days. Then go for it!! It’s your call.

If you’re into that, a good way to piss him off is trying to weasel out of his grip. Hal always has an arm around you, be it in public, around the house, while you sleep… bro just canNOT let go. I think he’s secretly insecure about you running off, so for you to feed into that? Yeah, no. Not a good idea. Unless, again, that’s what you’re going for. Then it’s a great idea!!

Y’all, I’m gonna be honest. You may wake up in the middle of the night to him fucking you. He just can’t help himself, okay?? He didn’t want to wake you, and hey, what you don’t know won’t hurt you, right? Just know that if you catch his freaky ass doing this, he will feel absolutely no guilt. I mean, why would he? We’re already past the point of shame. If anything, he’ll double down and whisper nasty shit in your ear until he cums. And, yes, he’ll stay inside of you til the morning. Good ol’ cockwarming.

Oh, yeah. Cockwarming. He’s big into that. And it’s lowkey not even a sexual thing; he just really likes the intimacy. It’s very common for him to be inside you while the two of you watch TV, your back pressed against his chest as he leaves gentle kisses on your neck. This is when Hal shows his softer side, even going as far as resisting the urge to bite you!! What a big step for him!!

All in all, yan Hal is a mixed bag. As long as you’re compliant and don’t go out of your way to make things hard for him, I’d say he’s pretty mild. It’s just that his sex drive is through the roof, especially after long missions. Does he bring you with him to space? You know what, probably. He just wants to be near you, okay? Or, actually, maybe it’s more of the other way around; he wants you near him. The specifics are important.

But yeah. Good luck covering up those bite marks!! Hal likes to leave them in obvious places on purpose (he’s an asshole like that).

[rainbow-nerdss]

The Abby of it all

(figured I should get what I've got of this posted before tonight... Just in case 👀)

Buck shouldn't be upset about this. It's been years, the mention of Abby should not send him into a spiral. He's happy right now! He's in a good place, with Tommy, and with his life in general. The only thing missing is Chris, and… he's hopeful there, too.

But, he supposes, this wasn't just a mention of her.

They'd been having the exes talk, him and Tommy. Kind of intense, kind of emotional, but necessary and a little bit cathartic, too. It started when the news came on, Taylor's face filling the screen. Buck groaned.

"Ugh, can we change the channel?"

"What? You don't like news reports about corporate espionage?" Tommy asks.

"No, uh... We used to date." He nods at the screen, grimacing.

"Huh." Tommy squints for a moment, and hits the power button on the TV remote. "Gotta be awkward, seeing your ex on TV?"

"You have no idea." Buck starts talking about his first date with Natalia, then Taylor, and after a while Tommy picks up the thread, talking about the last guy he dated. They bounce back and forth, no particular direction to the conversation, until Buck realises something.

"You haven't mentioned... What about before? Did you ever, you know, date women before you came out?"

Tommy sucks his teeth for a second, then nods. "Yeah. I don't talk about that much—I'm not the proudest of it, but I actually had a pretty serious relationship with a woman while I was still with the 118."

"Really?" Buck asks, voice neutral while Tommy gathers his thoughts.

"Yeah. It was... Good, I thought. Until I met her brother, and thought: damn, he's hot."

Buck throws his head back and laughs. "You did not sleep with her brother!"

Tommy snorts a little. "No! God, no. He was happily married to a woman, had a kid on the way and all. Nah, it was just a moment of: shit, I really can't keep pretending this isn't a fact about me. You know?"

Buck nods. After a pause, he asks the question. "What did you do?"

Tommy sighs. "That's the part I'm not proud of—I didn't really do anything. I kept dating her. She was going through a lot—family stuff, her mom was sick, and I just... Didn't wanna do that to her."

Buck hums, tracing patterns over Tommy's arm while he stared into space, remembering. 

"How did it end?" Buck asks.

"Badly. She knew something was off, always so perceptive. She confronted me, and I just... I couldn't keep it in anymore. I told her. We ended it. She ended it.”

"Damn."

"Yeah. She's fine, though. After the initial hurt,  she rebounded with some hot young probie she met on a call, and now she's married with step-kids. We still send Christmas cards to each other." Tommy laughs. Buck… doesn’t.

"On a call?" Buck asks. "She was a firefighter?"

"Oh! No, not a firefighter. She worked at dispatch, actually."

Buck's entire body convulses, blood turning chilled. "Dispatch?" He asks. 

He runs back over everything Tommy said about her. He remembers a voice, frail and confused, calling him by the wrong name.

"You... You're Abby's Tommy," he realises. 

Tommy blinks in surprise. "How do you...? Oh. Oh.”

Buck takes a breath, long and shaky. Tommy's words reverberate in his head. Rebounded. 

Hot young probie.

Is that all he was to her?

"I… I didn't know I was a rebound," Buck admits, voice small. Tommy reaches for him, but he flinches away. "She... Abby was everything to me. She was the first person I ever let myself imagine a future with. Her leaving... it kind of... broke something in me, Tommy. Something that it took months—actually, years—to find again. And she never even..."

"Evan, I... I had no idea."

Another thought occurs to Buck, then. A darker, worse thought. He almost doesn't want to ask, but he knows he'll drive himself crazy with wondering if he doesn't.

"Did... You said you were with her while you were with the 118?" 

Tommy nods. "I was."

"Did you ever... Did she ever come by the station?"

Tommy squints, like he's trying to remember. "I don't know. I know she met Sal. Gerrard kept asking if she'd come cook for everyone, like a ‘good wife.’" He rolls his eyes. "I don't think she ever did, though."

"So she... She never met Chim, or-or Hen,or Bobby, then? They didn't—"

Tommy shakes his head. "I'm sure they would have told you if they'd known."

Buck swallows. He feels sick. 

Rebound.

The final straw hits a moment later. She told Tommy about him. She's told Tommy about her husband, her step-kids.

She couldn't even tell him what country she was in while they were dating. 

Buck stands abruptly.

"Are you okay?" Tommy asks.

"I need... I need to go."

Buck grabs his keys, puts his feet in his shoes, and walks out the door.

"Evan! Evan, come on! Let's talk about this?"

Buck's halfway to his jeep already, but he turns. "We will. I promise, we'll talk, but I just... I don't think I can talk about this yet. I'll... I'll call you, okay?"

And here he is now, in his jeep, driving without aim through LA. He doesn't know where to go. He doesn't want to be near Tommy right now, though he did nothing wrong, and he doesn't want to be alone.

He drives past Abby's—his—old building, and has to fight a scream which tries to tear itself out of his throat.

Who asks a rebound to move in with them? Had she actually used that word, or was Tommy just inferring?

He knows who he has to talk to. 

He hopes Tommy was wrong. He hopes Abby was genuine. Because if she wasn't, Buck's really not sure what he will do. His relationship with Abby set the bar he compared every other relationship to—how can he trust his instincts, if that was all a lie?

He fights for the memory of when Abby told him about Tommy—what had she said about him?

She didn't talk about him much, he thinks. She hadn't even mentioned the fact that he was a firefighter—Buck would have remembered that.

“He wasn't ready for all of this.” Buck hears the echo of her words, remembers interpreting it to mean her mom, her situation. He remembers worrying that he might not be ready for it, but really wanting to be.

Looking back, he absolutely hadn't been ready. 

Had that been her way of not outing Tommy? Had she been trying to cover up the real reason for their breakup? Or is it Tommy who's telling a twisted version of the story?

There's only one person who can give him an honest account of it all��one person who may not have been there for it all, but who knows the situation better than Buck.

Carla.

With Chris in Texas, though, Buck doesn't know where she's working, or what hours. He just hopes she answers his calls.

[joons]

okay no wait, I'm so curious your thoughts on the elvis mythology! I'm trying to think of an example haha. anyway, thank you for that food for thought. your takes on elvis are so interesting and kind of a different perspective than I normally see

Thank you! That means a lot because I do love going into his psychology and thinking about how he thought about things. And I love being able to engage with Elvis stuff from all different angles!

I can think of a few - like there will be people who were close to him who make such absolute statements about him: he refused to wear blue jeans, he hated eating fish, he loved eating peanut butter/banana/bacon sandwiches, he was afraid of germs, he wouldn't sleep with women who were mothers. But not all of those are true for him 100% of the time, or they seem to be big outliers where no one else has reported anything like that. And as you read more, you can see moments where he behaves differently than these big eccentricities that people pin on him, and you have to think about why that might be. You pick up little clues that you can put together to figure out what he meant. Did he have an almost pathological dislike of blue jeans because they reminded him of his childhood poverty, or did he just tell one of his band members that because he had made a brusque joke about the guy wearing blue jeans in front of a bunch of people and wanted to find a way to apologize without apologizing? Was he covering up behavior he was ashamed of, or was he revealing the real shame that drove him to look his best and make sure his entourage looked their best too? Did he actually have an aversion to women after they had given birth (unlikely, since he had relationships with several mothers), or did he want to give Priscilla a reason for avoiding her that she couldn't work around, knowing that she always went overboard trying to change herself to get his attention and getting rid of things she thought were coming between them (his spiritual books/Larry Geller/etc.)? Was this just one of a long line of excuses he made for not truly being in love with her and not wanting to try anymore? Did he actually eat the same sandwich every day, or did he just make a big deal about it one time because it was Lisa's birthday and he wanted to fly her somewhere special? And the other stuff he did eat every day, did he do it because it was one of the few things in his life he had control over, and could extract comfort from, or did he do it because, as he told Larry, he wanted to make himself sick of it so that it would no longer be a temptation? And how much of these conversations are either hearsay or someone putting words in his mouth to absolve themselves of something that bothered them?

The long and short of it is that people have sometimes reported things he said or did without any surrounding context, or it gets stripped away when it's reported elsewhere, and we are left with these moments that don't make sense or tell us anything about him unless we see how he dealt with them throughout his life, around different people, and see him as a whole person and not the Elvis Image that he tended to embrace when it suited him and resent when it hurt him. A really great moment that I think shows how Elvis tended to approach things is reported by Steve Binder, where he said Parker was telling Elvis absolutely not to do something, and Steve felt like Elvis just kind of shut down and mumbled "yes" until Parker left, and then Elvis' eyes flashed and he turned to Steve and said, "Fuck him," and did what he wanted to do. He was a people pleaser! A huge one! He valued loyalty above honesty. He was willing to lie to people he cared about if he felt that it would avoid a confrontation, and sometimes that tipped into a selfish "I want to do things my way," and sometimes that tipped into a selfless "I want them to have everything I can give them." And he waffled between those extremes because of his own low self-esteem and loneliness. I'm! Screaming! About this! At all times! He is an unreliable narrator, he's such a bubble of emotions that pops with the slightly scratch, he's so complex that you are not sure if he wants the bubble to be an opaque shield or a transparent boundary that you can slip through. He was testing people all the time to know if he could trust them with his heart without expecting him to be the Elvis Image, telling them things that were an invitation and a challenge and an insult and a declaration of love all at once, and so much of the problem we deal with now is that people are still completely uninterested in these depths. I???? Love him??? And the things he can help us learn about ourselves??? Just by trying to see him as he really was????

I don't know, I just get very overwhelmed!!!!

[bucked-it-up]

I finally have some time and think about what happened in the episode and also in a way this season as a whole. This is probably going to be a ramble mess and I’m sure i will get some info incorrect as i am mainly doing this off of memory, i also haven’t fully read the post episode interviews but i know the gist of them. Now with that disclaimer out of the way I’m gonna just blurt my feelings out.

One. I want to start that personally for me the season has felt off from the beginning but particularly from after the opening episodes, i felt like the pacing was off and disjointed. I enjoyed the episodes don’t get me wrong but yeah something just has felt off for me writing wise, everything seemingly has been resolved quicker and easier than i think anyone thought it would be

Two. Might as well get into the meat of why i am rambling about my feelings. 806. Well it was certainly an episode. The miceli bucktomy scene that we have all looked forward to since we knew it was happening just immediately felt off. It was their 6 months? But yet Tommy seemingly got buck a present that didn’t fit what he has said about basketball at all in the past and to me felt dismissive as i was watching it. Buck taking a picture of the girls felt odd to me the tension about it idk just wasn’t for me but that part of the conversation could have led to interesting turmoil and lead to more stability. The Abby of this part. My first reaction was Ew. I was never one for the spec that Tommy was Abby’s ex never felt right and didn’t click but I would’ve been okay with it if it was handled differently. Tommy felt dismissive towards why Abby would be upset about a 2 year Relationship where they were engaged, like she had every right to be hurt and react maybe in a way you didn’t expect or like. While this led to a good speech from josh and gave buck the information he needed to know he would be happy in the relationship even if tommy had been with Abby and he understood why tommy did what he did or at least accepted it.

Three. The Break Up. WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT! They both express a want for a long term relationship and tommy decides that no that’s not what buck wants? And it also feels like it goes against him wanting a family somewhere to be and they were showing that he was becoming a part of it in 805. Just what was the characterisation in that scene? They weren’t the buck and tommy i know. Him saying buck? Like fuck you writers. You could have written a break up in so much more of a respectful way, handled it so much more respectfully not apparently doing 805 the way it was just to make 806 hurt worse. You had such a beautiful peace of representation on your hands and you just fucked it up.

Four. What i know of about the interviews. As said above ive not read them. I’m not in the right place to right now but i do know the gist of them. Why do you want buck’s character development to just fall back to season 1 buck, Oliver? Why? Tell me why it would make sense. Buck has shown longing for a long term relationship from the first hook up of the show. He didn’t sleep around after Abby who was his first transformative relationship as he said and tommy was he second major one again something that buck said. So why Oliver would he choose to fuck around? Why?

Five. The Eddie and Buck scene at the end. I will admit i didn’t properly watch it because i was too sad and that scene felt like someone had just rubbed a whole load of salt in the wound. I find out then from my friend that they had buck come over to eddies while he’s doing that pantless dancing and has shaved. Feels like bvddie ship bait not gonna lie. Would buck go to Eddie after a break up? Yes he would they are best friends why wouldn’t buck go there. But why couldn’t the scene be different, have it come at it from a different way.

Six. I dont know if I’m going to carry on watching the show, i have no nope for bucktommy coming back but if you do I’m really happy for you sincerely i would like some of that hope tbh. If i do watch it i will probably watch it after hearing spoilers.

Finally, I’m not reading this through so pls ignore any small mistakes but if you do want to correct me on something please do it kindly and politely. I love you all, my inbox is open if you need to rant somewhere and please take care of yourselves.

[eternal-love]

Public Relations

Pairing: Austin Butler x Female!Reader

warning?: (talk about motherhood, slight cheating)

Summary: You and Austin had a baby recently, but things haven’t been peachy, not at all. Fans are starting to speculate. And PR is chasing your asses.

The last time Austin and you were together was right after the birth of your baby girl in June, he had been bugging you for a year of how much he wanted to be a daddy.

At first you were not going to give it to him. You knew his career, how busy he got and it was true, his career was his priority and nothing would ever change that. You understood, he had worked SO hard for it and he wouldn’t leave it to be a stay-at-home daddy or a husband. There was a reason why there wasn’t a ring on your finger.

But you reluctantly agreed to have a baby, just to see him happy. Although you yourself weren’t so sure about it. The pregnancy, damn, was it hard.

You found yourself feeling worn down by the baby inside of you, you went to many midwives and they told you that it was normal. But you couldn’t really do much anyways. You stayed at home, laying down in the bed or bathtub, he was there with you.

And now, months later, your baby girl was three months old and you were in LA. His house in LA, because you lived with him. He was staying in NYC.

You woke up one morning, the baby laying besides you sound asleep. Getting up from the bed, putting on your slippers as opening the windows. Today, you were going to New York because of his PR manager.

You bathed your baby girl, Lux. She totally had Austin’s face. So when you missed him, you looked at her, but whenever he screwed up, you couldn’t look at her. You knew you were being immature but— how can you look at your daughter when she has the face of a man that has hurt you multiple times?

Getting to NYC wasn’t a really long trip, but you never liked it.

You never quite liked New York after getting in a relationship with Austin. Granted, before getting with him, you and your friends spent many morning doing ‘shame-walks’ back to apartments or hotels after wild nights out.

That’s literally how you met Austin, half drunk and with cigarette in your hand, waiting for a taxi to pass by, you didn’t even notice the ash from your cigarette had burnt a hole into Austin’s shirt.

Back then, 2019, he had broken up with Vanessa a month ago and when you got with him, you knew the kind of scrutiny you were getting yourself into. The rumors of you being his side-girl, the reason he broke up with her. And you know, at first you were just a stupid rebound, a one night thing. But when you didn’t leave the next morning after having sex— you both knew you were up for a ride.

Arriving at his apartment in New York, you entered and turned on all the lights, it looked like no one really lived there, not because it was ugly but because everything was so neat. It’s like he only woke up, did his morning routine, went out, and came back to sleep. That was mostly because he basically had been living here on his own for months.

You two didn’t even act like a couple anymore, like anyone would think you’re divorced and you have custody of the kid.

Didn’t take long before he arrived, you heard the keys and the doorknob turning. You heard his boots and he finally entered the living room. You were breastfeeding Lux.

“Oh, fuck, you scared me.” He jumped a little, all the lights were turned off except a small lamp.

“I thought you knew we were here already.” You rolled your eyes. Lux had finished eating, so you pulled her from your breast, covered up and started burping her.

She was so small still, none of this was her fault. Austin leaned down and only kissed your cheek. Not your lips, no nothing. Biting the inside of your check, you glanced down.

“I went to eat but— there’s plenty of food on the fridge.” Austin said, pushing his now long blond hair back. “If you want anything.”

“I had some fruit I saw in the fridge. I’m not very hungry lately.” You said, maybe it was just the whole postpartum thing. It was something weird and new to you. Losing hair, gaining weight, feeling depressed. It all took a toll on you. As it did on other women.

“Well, you should eat. You have been losing too much hair, baby. You have nothin’ on your head!” Austin tried to joke. The joke didn’t quite land, at all.

You got yourself onto his apartment, he had hanged pictures of you, he had added a few of the three of you. Recent one, from when Lori was but a few weeks old. Hanged there on the top of his bed.

You dropped one of your earrings and you knelt to grab it. Reaching to grab it, what did you grab? A g-string.

It wasn’t yours. You are a mother now. A g-string couldn’t hold your entire vagina even if you wanted to.

He had been seeing her again. That fucking nepo-baby. Kaia Gerber. He had been seeing her since the end of 2021. You had told him: it’s going to come back to bite you in the ass. But he didn’t listen.

When you told him to do something, he did the opposite.

But you wanted karma to get him. It still hurt, of course. You had just had his baby, it would hurt anyone. You just threw it down there again.

You two were selfish, bringing a little kid to this horrible life, where his parents weren’t that much in love anymore.

You were young when you and Austin started to date, pretty much freshly out of school. You were naive back then, thinking that love could beat everything. What a stupid little girl, who makes stupid decisions and never learns.

“You’ve been seeing her again.” You said to him.

“We’ve been through this before, y/n…” he groaned, as if what you said was an inconvenience.

“Exactly. And every time I try to tell you that she’s not good for you—“

“It’s my goddamn business, alright?” He snapped at you after interrupting.

“It’s not just your business, you son of a bitch. There’s a baby involved. Your baby. Yours.” You finally snapped too.

“Listen. I don’t want to argue today, alright?” He laid back on the couch.

He was a pretty fucker, you wouldn’t deny it. He had gained a shit ton of muscle for the movie he had started filming. He looked three times bigger than when you had first met him.

“PR wants you to be on set tomorrow, with Lux.” Austin said. Looking at his phone.

“Why?” You asked, confused. You barely visited him on any set. Not because you didn’t want to but because he didn’t want you distracting him.

“What else for? Photos. They want to see us be a pretty little fucking family. Isn’t that good?” He said, a little smirk on his face.

“Like, putting on a show?” You asked, confused. You weren’t new to PR moved but this one seemed a little… icky.

“It’ll benefit us both! And it’s a chance for you to finally see me get into action.” He smiled, as if this was a normal Tuesday. Nothing like a good ol’ PR stunt.

“Right, to make you seem like the family guy, got it.” You said sarcastically.

“Don’t be so sarcastic, alright? It’ll make wonders.”

You sat by his side, he turned to face you and his hand reached for your cheek, caressing it with his thumb.

“You have to help me out, baby. Alright, doll?” He basically purred out.

He had a way of making you want to do anything he said.

“Just this one time.” You agreed, reluctantly, you wanted to smack him but you wanted to help him.

“God, I love you.” He leaned in and kissed your cheek, his beard itchy.

You didn’t understand him, did he love you? Did her love Kaia? Did he love just the idea of you being there for him? What did he love?

You got ready to visit him in set while Lux was asleep, once she woke up from her sleep, you bathed her in a little plastic tub.

“Look at you, you smell delicious.” You said as you basically breaded her with baby powder. You liked baby smell, just the smell of them. They smelled clean, pink, you couldn’t even describe it. “Wanna go and see daddy?”

You sprayed on perfume before leaving his apartment. You looked pretty enough for the photos. The whole ride there was filled with traffic, but that’s New York City for all.

Once you got there, you were welcomed by his publicist, Kate.

“Y/n! Over here. Listen, it’ll be easy. You just wait here until Darren yell ‘cut’, then Austin will come up and you’ll be holding Lux. He’ll play with her. Smile at you, kiss you.”

Like acting. Quite literally scripted like a movie scene.

“Okay, yes. Sure.” You nodded, pushing Lux’s stroller.

You walked to the sidelines of filming, standing besides makeup artists, the hair girls, costume, producers, etc. They leaned down and cooed Lux whenever they could.

“She looks just like him!” They said, each and every single one of them.”

Even Darren himself said so. You voicing help but roll your eyes. You hated that she looked so much like him. She had her face, yet she was innocent. She hadn’t done anything to you. Nothing. Just be born with that idiot’s face.

Then it came acting time, Darren yelled ‘cut’ and you reached for Austin with little Lux in your arms. She had a pink onesie and a little pink headband.

Austin went into daddy mode, walking towards you as he cooed baby Lux. He got closer and player with her tiny hands.

“They’re right behind you.” He said as she kept smiling. He was referring to fans there, whose pictures would fly on the internet as soon as they were posted.

They were a complete hit as his PR had predicted. So they went with it, they planned another PR date. The fucking concert. A Gracie Abram’s one at that. Neither did you or Austin listened to her music.

“This is ridiculous.” You muttered as you looked outside the car window. You wore basic clothes, you took your time with the hair and maybe the makeup. But you didn’t leave the apartment very relaxed, there was a nanny taking care of Lux but you didn’t trust her. The fuck you did, you didn’t trust anyone to be around her.

“Just for the photos, alright? I don’t want to do this either but you know— PR.” He said.

The concert was lame, not that the girl wasn’t talented but you weren’t even focused on the whole ordeal. Instead, you focused on texting the nanny about Lux while Austin drank a Corona. Nothing, maybe it it had been a concert of an artist you both enjoyed, you two would have been wrapped on each other’s arms, but who knows? With how things had been, you doubt it.

Getting out of the concert, he put on a fucking face mask. You sighed, but you grabbed his arm as you walked towards the car, the paparazzi there already picturing you two. You weren’t used to paparazzi, you would never be, so you clung onto him, at least a bit tighter. Almost like a deadly grip. Then he took his face mask off, and her rubbed his hand a few times. He looked annoyed already.

The photos went out that very night, various tabloids, and fan accounts of him posted them. So, it didn’t go as planned.

Austin Butler and girlfriend, Y/n, make another public appearance after attending Gracie Abrams’ concert. They’re still going strong!

“He’s the creator of #ihatemygf lol🤣”

“Can she be any less clingy? He looks uncomfortable.”

“She’s gripping him like he’s going to run away if she lets go! 😂”

“They have zero chemistry. I smell a break up.”

“I’m tired of the media forcing them down my throat!”

“She has ZERO MEDIA TRAINING. She’s been with him for six years and she still acts like a frigid little girl.”

“Are these two supposed to be couple goals? I don’t even wish this relationship on my worst enemy.”

“These two can’t even make a PR stunt look buyable! If I were a paparazzi, I wouldn’t even sell these photos!”

Looks like there’s trouble in paradise! Austin Butler and baby mama, y/n. Make yet a second public appearance but people are quick to point out the switch in their body language. As in other photos, it seems like Austin tried to get her off him subtly. As a quote from himself:

��My love language is physical touch. Tell how great I am and touch me.’

Are we smelling a break up or was it just a common couple disagreement?

“They need to get off each other’s back. He needs a woman his age and she needs a guy her age.”

“They’re stupid for having a baby, they look like they hate each other.”

“Why is she not taking care of his baby?!”

“Do they hate each other? They’re a mess!😂”

“I can’t even look at the second photo without cracking up. Austin’s face says: finally this clingy bitch got off me. 😆”

Yeah, it didn’t go as planned. Austin wasn’t pissed but he was definitely annoyed.

“This is the last fucking time I’m listening to Kate.” Austin threw his phone on the bed. Irritated, he had done all that circus last night for nothing. “Listen, let’s talk.”

You sat there, Lux laid in bed, this could have been a very wholesome family moment. But you three weren’t a wholesome family.

“Alright, let’s talk.” You nodded.

“This thing between us,” he pointed at you and then at the baby and then at him. “It’s not working, it stopped working a long time ago.”

You nod, you knew that. Hell, you knew that since the last trimester of your pregnancy. When you spent them mostly in bed or taking baths. You knew you had become boring but it wasn’t your intention. Nobody ever told you that the life you were creating took so much from you. Lux leeched from you for nine months straight.

“Do you think I don’t know that?” You said, almost as in a tone that said ‘isn’t it obvious?’

“I don’t know why we don’t work anymore. I don’t know what the hell happened between us.” Austin pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.

“And what am I supposed to do, huh? I hadn’t seen you in two months, you left me in LA, alone with—“

Austin clenched his jaw, tight. “Don’t out this all on me. It was your choice to have the baby. Maybe if you hadn’t got pregnant, we wouldn’t have this mess!”

After he said that, something inside of you snapped. What the fuck were you doing still with him? With a guy who never woke up by your side. With a guy whose career was his main priority. With a guy that sweet-talked you to have a baby and when he couldn’t handle the changes, flew to NYC. You changed, yes. But it was for him and because of him. You couldn’t keep living with the uncertainty.

“That’s it. I’m going back to LA.” You stood up from the bed, cuddling baby Lux in your arms. You grabbed your purse and Lux’s baby bag. Austin’s eyes widened.

“Are you seriously making another scene, again Austin asked with an irritated expression, but when you grabbed Lux’s baby bottler, he knew you were serious. “No, wait. Hear me out.” He tried to stand in front of you.

“I’m tired of hearing you out!” You said as she circled around him, getting out of the bedroom.

“I’m sorry! I don’t mean to be such an asshole. Or take it out on you. I guess I’m not handling all of this well.” He said softly.

“That’s not my fault.” You snapped again. Tired of always being understanding. Of always trying to be calm and respectful of whatever he said.

“I know. I was just being a dick, alright? I’m sorry,” He looked at you with those beautiful blue eyes, but you wouldn’t fall, not again.

“I’m tired of being understanding and kind. I’m tired of having to listen to every single one of your excuses. I’m done with this. I’m done with being shredded to pieces by the media because you can’t seem to like me. I’m done with you playing with me and that fucking nepobaby. I’m tired of having to be there for you in everything and you can’t even do it for me.”

You snapped, looking at him right in the eye.

“This is where we end.” You said, you didn’t even give him an ultimatum. It just wouldn’t be fixed. It wouldn’t.

“No, wait! You can’t just break up with me. We have a kid, y/n, have common sense…” He said, reaching for your hand.

Were you about to cry because he was holding back tears? Of course. You rarely saw him cry, but you had to be strong. At least for yourself.

“We can be co-parents. It’s the best thing for her. I don’t want her growing up in a place where her parents hate each other’s guts.” You said, you had made up your mind. “I’m sorry.”

You said before storming out of his apartment.

He couldn’t even move. Seriously. Everything had come down on him. Maybe if they hadn’t done that stupid PR stunt, they would have gotten a week or more together.

Author’s note: This is so fucking long, wtf????

Anyways. Thank you for reading 🫶💕

[d3nt4l-d4m4g3]

We are now best friends. we drink and smoke on her porch after work. we tell each other things we don't tell anyone else. Not her fiance. not my family. At work we pair up on tasks, vape together out of sight in the woods, tell inside jokes, text vacuous memes when there is nothing to say—we are little universe unto ourselves, and because no one knows she's trans or that I detransitioned, no one knows why we have gotten so close. This is so strange.

if the election results are good for anything (and, with caveats, I think it will be an improvement over the last four years) it is this: The president-elect pledged to end the sexual mutilation of minors, to stop mass gender transition. He said that on national television. This is an enormous win for us. Since I detransitioned 4 years ago, all I wanted was this—to not be content with saving myself, but to go to sleep knowing hundreds of thousands of vulnerable people are not being mutilated anymore. That the gears of the abhorrent Mengele machine will screech to a halt.

But now I have a conflict of interest and I fear for my beautiful friend. I don't know if she would survive the ego death of detransition, should the government really take away her hormones. She was hurt so bad, and her false life has been built so elaborately. Her constructed self is the barrier between her and the abuse in her past.

Here are some of the problems with going off T:

off testosterone, she will feel overwhelming emotions. Testosterone has made her unable to cry. If she cries she will lose control. Her brain will be a stranger to herself.

Her body will revert to the one that men leered at and preyed upon throughout her childhood. This would disgust and terrify her.

She is engaged. What if her fiance only wants a straight-appearing marriage? what if her fiance is not attracted to her off T? Doesn't like the look of that life?

unable to remain 'stealth', she would have to tell her coworkers and friends what she hasn't told almost anyone in 10 years, since she started transitioning. this would change everyone's perception of her. She will be demoted from a normal-looking respectable man to a strange mannish woman. it will feel undignified and unfair to suddenly be the exception and not the rule of society. Even if really, that's what she's been all along.

I fear for her, even though this is everything I wanted. I want her to live a long life, not perish from the complications of testosterone 5, 10, 20 years down the line. Perhaps naively, I want to believe that anyone can overcome addiction, even her. The people who are farthest astray—the "most" trans—are the people that most acutely need to be led back to the truth, to themselves. But it's a steep path out of this hole my friend has dug. And selfishly, I will not try to help dig her out of it, because I don't want to risk our friendship.

Hey. Long time no talk. After college I went to the New Mexico wilderness to build trails, and now I'm in Upstate New York somewhere. I'm a landscaper. Outside all day. I get to become strong while keeping my mind. A new start where nobody knows all the bridges I've burned. I have a sunny apartment.

So at my new job there is this guy. On the third day of work, I noticed he doesn't talk like men do, even though he dresses like one. His shoes look a size too big. And his hands are the size of my hands: tiny. But I didn't want to assume anything because short guys exist. Stop being paranoid, d3d4!

The fourth day of work he pulls me aside away from everyone, asks my pronouns, says he's trans, been "stealth" for 10 years, and that NOBODY KNOWS. Except, now me. He read me wrong because I'm not trans, I'm just a dyke.

I assured him—her—that I'm cool and I won't tell. But now it's eating me alive. We spend 40 hours a week together. On the outside, she has a perfect life, practically has a halo around her head. She has a fiance who loves her. She works a second job taking care of old people. She is probably one of the kindest, most hardworking people I've ever met. She seems happy.

But it's all built on a lie. So much of her day is spent trying to seek intimacy while deflecting from the elephant in her mind. The lie permeates everything. When some of my coworkers talked about having kids, she casually mentioned that her fiance needs to get her IUD out before they try for a baby. ???? She doesn't... have... she can't... ?

It's gotta be so hard for her. She is kind and hardworking and a liar, in unimaginably deep. She seems happy now. But it's a house of cards. a 10 year lie, goddamn the loneliness. She's so afraid of what's real, and she's built her perfect life around a myth that can explode at any moment. all while wrecking her body. What does she know about the health issues she could face? what does her fiance know about her shortened lifespan?

Once I would have been honored to be entrusted with her secret. Now it is a burden. She doesn't know that I am a liar too. I lie to keep her friendship. I lie to keep my job, to keep my new friend, to keep the latest shoddy bridge I've built above water.

I need to pretend I don't know what I know. My coworker's body is like mine, but scarred and roughened. Her mind is like mine, but imprisoned in gender, the crime of the century. At work we joke around, slapping each other's backs too hard. I lean into my butchness, crossing my arms over my chest, rocking on my heels, challenging her. She grabs the leafblower before I can. She is affirmed by using heavy machinery.

She is Deaf and wears an implant. An on-the-nose reminder that some people can't listen.

So I will not scream.

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

What happens when Ford eventually returns? I mean, Dipper and Mabel will have to get used to a whole ‘new’ Ford, and Bill is a chaos-god again, so meeting him in his real form will be interesting, will Bill just hang around?

To summarise: It isn’t great, for anybody.

In the case of Ford, it’s like he’s just woken up from sleep. In his mind, it’s like no time has passed at all, but instead 30 years has, and he has to come to terms with that. His paranoia is intense, and to make matters worse, he doesn’t just feel like a stranger in his own home, but a stranger in his own body. He honestly spends a lot of time around Stan, despite his lingering anger, as Stan is the only person who doesn’t look at him strangely, or make him feel like he’s the one who stole this body, that he’s the one who doesn’t belong. Stan’s familiar. He’s safe. Everything else is just… wrong.

He’s generally quite unsure around the twins, which is a mutual feeling.

Mabel wants him to feel welcome, she really does, but she’s struggling to cope with the feelings of confusion and betrayal, and though she does her best to put on a smile and get to know him, he always seems very far away. Meanwhile, Dipper thought he knew the Author for the longest time, but apparently, it was all a lie, and he’s hurt, they both are, but Dipper honestly handles it worse. He’s fixated enough on Bill’s pages in the journal to know he’s dangerous, that he did something bad to their real Grunkle Ford, and he’s relentless in finding out what.

It feels like walking on eggshells at all times. Their new Great Uncle Ford is jumpy, and he’s always looking at them like they’re going to attack him. He’s only ever really at ease when Stan is around. Speaking of Stan, he doesn’t blame his brother for being so on edge, nor is annoyed at Ford constantly trying to argue with Stan and prove Bill has manipulated him too, because to Ford, it’s the only possible explanation as to why Stan would protect him. And Stan gets that. Even now, he will never forget the anger he felt at seeing Ford’s body, how damaged it was, and how Bill laughed about it. But, unfortunately, he’s spent 30 years with Bill, 30 years Ford had taken from him, and that leaves everything painfully complicated.

Speaking of Bill, I haven’t decided exactly how he’s going to be present, either he’s completely back to hanging around the mindscape, or he’s latched onto Ford still somehow, either way, he hangs around.

I have a particular vision in mind of him entering the twins dreams sometimes, especially if they’re having a nightmare, and he and Mabel end up having a conversation one night.

I may make a full, coloured comic for it honestly, because it’s very clear in my mind, and Mabel asking Bill to lie to her for her own comfort… yeah.

(If anyone’s seen Buffy, it’s kind of based off the ‘Lie to me’ scene)

(One final note: I think DD&MD will still be the key to getting Ford to open up, but it’s something the whole family gets involved with, even Stan and Mabel, though they admit the game isn’t really for them, just to make him feel more comfortable around them, and break the tension a bit more. Dipper kind of figures out he likes it in the similar fashion of Ford seeing his die!)