#why do i sound prepubescent

[viscerasmoothie]

First video is over 500mb, so Tumblr is throwing a tantrum about it and not letting me upload it. It got split because my camera app timed out for some reason. Here's the second video, also I have no clue why my voice sounds like that, I'm like 50% sure that I sound a lot less prepubescent irl but idk, if you know me and are on here then please confirm if I sound like a fucking 9 year old or not.

For video ID : M = me (OP), G = my grandma

[Video ID: A video of me shoving a flathead screwdriver into the semi-opened corner of my laptop in a futile attempt to brute force it open. Two blankets are visible in the background, one dark grey and the other multicolor. The sound of a loud fan is in the background. The laptop is upside down.

G: "Oh it must've timed out, right?" (In reference to the fact that the first video ended abruptly)

M: "You might've accidentally hit the home button."

G: No, I've got just my thumbs along the black edge." (referring to my phone case. It's a semi-transparent dark blue, which makes the edges of it look black)

M: "Okay yeah it might've timed out."

[I make a barely audible sigh expressing the emotion I like to call "WHY THE FUCK WONT YOU OPEN AAAAAAA"]

M: "This is absolutely not good for the case." (Two flathead screwdrivers are in the case and have been for a couple seconds, one with semi-transparent yellow handle and a thicker metal part holding the case open, and a thinner one with a semi-transparent red handle being used to try and pry the rest of the case open. In this shot I was working on the left edge (It appears as the right edge due to the laptop being upside down), and my head is in frame because I'm a stupid idiot who can't see what the camera does)

M: "Might be electronic(sic) jammed up the side." (The "(sic)" part is because either my brain wasn't braining or you can't hear me pluralize(? Is that a real word??) the word "electronic". I wasn't having any luck with getting the side opened, which is why I think components might be shoved against it, preventing me from prying the case open)

[frustrated sigh from me as the yellow screwdriver falls/slightly pops out of the case and into my laugh. My grandma laughs at my misfortune]

M: [Might be yawning while saying this idk] "Staring to think we might need the screwdriver for these, [chuckles]" (there's screws that are almost definitely holding the case together, but they're probably proprietary HP screws, AND they're super fucking tiny)

[Another disgruntled sigh from yours truly, who is probably misusing the word "disgruntled"]

M: "No clue where we'd get them though." (in reference to the screwdrivers. I'm now working on the front side of the case)

[Yellow screwdriver falls out again]

G: "Yeah those little tiny screws, are they, attached to something?"

M: "This one isn't-" (In reference to the one near the corner that was propped open)

G: "Oh okay"

M: "-I think"

G: "You sure?"

M: "What do you think? [She laughs] This is coming out."

[camera gets closer to the corner (IT DOES NOT ZOOM, my grandma didn't zoom in cus our phones are different)]

G: "Okay."

M: "This one ke-" [pause to readjust the yellow screwdriver] "This screwdriver keeps popping out."

[some sort of noise??? Idk man]

M: "[inaudible, sounds like "I don't think"] any of this is a fan of anything I'm doing right now."

[no dialogue for a couple of seconds]

M: "I hate proprietary screws."

M: [in a whiney voice] "Open." [brief pause] "Why won't you open."

M: "I don't care that I don't have the wro- the right stuff."

[one final semi-angry sigh]

M: "Yeah no we might need the screws." (Idk why I referred to the screwdriver as screws fuck you. Also can you tell I watch way too much dankpods and the "yeah nah" has rubbed off on me /rhetorical)

G: "Huh?"

M: "We might just need those screws." [grabs phone near the camera cus I'm a big stupid idiot]

G: "Need what screws?"

[Video end]]

Writing out that entire video ID was mentally exhausting LMAO, and it probably sucks ass. Sorry for visually/hearing impaired people who come across this but I'm just dumb. Also two things, if I get doxxed cus of the pride shirt I was wearing I will kms, and don't mind how fucking ugly I am. If you find me attractive then I suggest therapy. /s

[bruhstories]

Muse II

p.1 && p.3

summary: a knock on your door, an envelope and a dress pairing: viktor x painter!reader && jayce x mel warnings: swearing, angst, descriptions of anxiety and depression, quite a lot of dialogue, veeeery slow burn, jayce being a good friend, canon divergent w/c: 3.7k

a/n: this part is a little more reader-centric, but i will fix that in the third (and potentially the last) part. liking and reblogging is encouraged and appreciated!

"May I leave now?" The bright lights of the infirmary forced Viktor to squeeze his eyes shut.

The doctor nodded, but the nurse gasped, then shook her head. She seemed to want to see him all the time, always finding a reason to stall, to buy time. Viktor never understood why, but then again, he never understood why you wanted him to be your model. 

"I think it would be prudent to run a few more tests." The nurse suggested.

Her name was Sky, and she had been nothing but kind to him. But weren't all nurses supposed to be humane? To care for the sick? Unfortunately for her, the doctor was adamant on dismissing Viktor.

"I'm afraid not, Sky. Viktor's condition isn't improving, but it isn't advancing either. It's as though his condition simply stopped. You're free to go, but please come back if you notice any changes, positive or otherwise."

"Thank you, doctor." Viktor gripped the handle of his cane and left the infirmary, strolling down the streets of Piltover. 

He had been thinking about you, about how the rune you inscribed in his portrait changed him, but his ego brought out the worst in him, and he refused to search for you, to apologise for misjudging you. Besides, you were probably busy with commissions anyway. You wouldn't make time for him after he stupidly, arrogantly tore down your pride.

You weren't busy. 

It had been days since you left your apartment, weeks since you last touched a paintbrush, months since you saw Viktor. Not having a muse incapacitated you, turned off your creativity, destroyed your imagination. You stared at the blank canvas in front of you — empty, just like your mind and your heart.

Abandoning the attempt to paint, you tried to draw instead. Fiddling with the pencil in your hand, you took a look at your previous sketches, desperate to do something, anything. But nothing came out of you. Not a single line, or dot, or sliver of hope. The sudden knock on your door had you recoil and drop your pencil. Expecting your landlord, you swung open the door. 

Jayce stared at you, at your dishevelled hair and the state of your clothes, before he peeked behind your shoulder to see the mess in your apartment. Papers tossed on the floor, clothes piled up on your bed, spoiled food on your table. He hadn't seen anyone so... pitiful. 

"Can I help you?" Your monotonous voice sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard.

"I just wanted to check on you. Y/N, what happened?"

"Ask your partner." Venom dripped down your tongue as you closed the door, only for Jayce to stop it with his foot.

"Please, let's just talk."

"Why?" 

"That's what friends do!" His warm smile was supposed to offer you comfort, but it only offered you hate.

"We're not friends, Mr. Talis." You tried to close the door again, catching his fingers in the doorframe. The sudden shriek of pain made you violently open it, eyes wide at Jayce who was on the verge of tears. "I am so sorry, I didn't think you'd put your bloody fingers in the way!"

Ushering him inside your apartment, you kicked away the piles of clothes from the chair and sat him down. He winced, watching his fingers slowly turn purple and swollen.

"It's alright, it's nothing." His voice cracked like some prepubescent teenager, and you ran a handkerchief under cold water then gave it to him.

"I'm really sorry, Jayce."

"Aha! You used my name! Ow, shit."

You tried to stifle the chuckle that erupted from your throat, but to no avail. He managed to make you laugh, but the sweetness turned sour.

"Why are you really here?" You asked, avoiding his gaze.

"I told you, I wanted to check on you. And to ask you something."

There it was, the true reason.

"How did you do it?"

"Dunno what you're talking about." You shrugged. 

"That portrait, it somehow stopped Viktor's affliction from advancing. It's not regressing by any means, but it's keeping him in a stable condition, and I can't explain why. No one can." His forehead creased, unable to find a scientific reason.

"Maybe he got lucky." You simply said.

"Don't be modest, he told me you put some kind of magical rune in it." Jayce scoffed. 

"He spoke about me?" Was all you could think about.

"Yes, but you need to tell me how you did it."

You sighed. His scientific brain could never comprehend the intricacies of magic, the elegant enchantments, or the intuitive spellwork, but you tried your best.

"The Academy of Arts in Ionia trains artists to incorporate spells, runes and sigils into their work. Some can bring their paintings to life, others can use them to deal damage." You looked behind Jayce at the blank canvas. "I can heal. Sort of."

"That's fascinating!" He beamed at you like a child who just got a new toy. "So why didn't you fully heal Viktor?

"Ah, but what would life be if all our problems disappeared? We're all the product of our experiences, aren't we?" You mused. "I can't heal illnesses if people were born with them, I can merely hinder them, stop them from advancing, because even ailments serve a purpose. Would Viktor had become the scientist that he is without his condition?" You quirked a brow, and Jayce frowned, not in anger but in contemplation. 

"So, you could heal my fingers, then, yes?" He nodded, but you sighed again. It was something you found yourself doing quite often.

"I haven't touched a pencil in weeks. I'm useless, as you can probably tell from the state of my apartment."

"Why? Because you don't have a muse?" Jayce asked, and you nodded. "That's bullshit."

"Excuse you?" Your words came out a lot more condescending than you wanted.

"I said it's bullshit. You're a damn artist, you find beauty where others don't. You don't need a muse for that." He scoffed.

"It's not that simple-"

"It is! Science and art are not that different, Y/N! They're both attempts to comprehend the world around us. They require research, analytical processes, resilience. Not a muse." Jayce picked up a sheet of paper and a piece of coal and slammed them on the table. "Draw my hand."

You stared at him, dumbfounded by the sheer willpower that this man had. No wonder he was an innovator. You could've kicked him out of your house, shut the door and never look back, but you didn't. Picking up the coal, you studied his hand first — the length of his fingers, width of his palm, the swirls of his fingerprints. Then, you let the coal glide down the paper, tracing lines, smudging them with your index finger and thumb. Your own fingers were sore from the lack of practice, but you sketched his hand nonetheless, and just as you did with Viktor's portrait, you scribbled a rune in the corner of the paper.

Showing Jayce the sketch, he could feel his numb fingers return to their normal size, the black and blue disappearing by the minute. He knew you could do it, you just needed a little push.

"See, that wasn't so hard." Jayce grinned, but you stared daggers at him. "Oh, before I go, Mel wanted you to have this." He reached into the inner pocket of his cream jacket and handed you an envelope. 

"What's this?"

"An invitation. I hope to see you soon." 

You locked the door after he was gone and studied the wax sigil on the envelope. Red and golden, with the head of a wolf embedded in it. It was too beautiful to tear it open, but curiosity got the better of you, and you used a knife to cut open the envelope, not wanting to ruin the sigil.

Just as Jayce said, it was an invitation to a fundraiser. All of Piltover's finest would be there, and you were asked to attend as a guest of honour, to be appointed the Master of Arts, the head of Piltover's Guild of Artists. Disbelief settled in your mind, despite rereading the same words, over and over again. Every councillor agreed to that, you could tell from their signatures. But you haven't painted in weeks, so how could you represent all the artists in the city? You were a hypocrite at best, a failure at worst. 

And yet, you were chosen for that. Not your colleagues, not someone from the Academy — you. Did you need to prepare a speech? Bloody hell, you did. No one went up that stage without delivering one. But there was time, the fundraiser was only in a few weeks, right? Wrong. Your eyes scanned the words once more — it was three days away. Panic seeped into your veins. You had no dress, no shoes, no speech, no muse.

No, fuck the muse. Fuck Viktor. 

You were still bitter about the last conversation you exchanged with him, but you couldn't throw away such an opportunity, such an honour, for some guy. A very handsome, very clever guy, but still a guy nonetheless. No, Jayce was right — you didn't need a muse. You didn't have one in Ionia, didn't have one when you taught yourself how to draw and paint. You were your own muse. And you needed a damn good dress to impress. 

Forcing yourself to clean the mess in your apartment was easy. But showering and going out wasn't, not when the probability of bumping into Viktor was there. A slim chance, but not impossible, and you couldn’t afford to get distracted. You wrecked your brain trying to remember his schedule, because he never deviated from it. Thursday — he would have a doctor's appointment in the morning, then he would have lunch, and go to the lab. Or was it the other way around?

"Ugh!" You kicked the foot of your bed in anger and disgust. You were disgusted with yourself for even sparing him a single thought — the man who insulted you and your work.

So what if you bumped into him? He wasn't going to talk you, anyway, he made that quite clear when he didn't even say goodbye to you. Ungrateful fucking prick. No more. No more wallowing in self-pity, no more victimisation, no more emotion. How foolish of you to even think he'd see you as more than some dumb painter, that you were his equal in any way, shape or form. It was a facade, a mask, playing the innocent sick man when behind that mask was a god complex.

You found a dress, purple and golden. It reminded you of Viktor, but how else were you supposed to get over him if not by proudly wearing the colours of the enemy? Were you overreacting? Perhaps. Too dramatic? Definitely, but it helped process the pain attached to those stupid colours. Spending time to write a speech also helped take your mind off of him. It gave you a purpose, something you thought was lost.

There was one thing you didn't like about the dress — it was too modest. And while it wasn't a gathering of prudes, you wanted to find the perfect mix of elegance and vulgarity. Studying the dress that was hanging on an iron hook on the back of your bathroom door, you grabbed a pair of scissors and cut a slit up its side. You wanted to stop at knee's length, but something possessed you to cut higher, stopping well above the knee. Was it too much? Maybe, but you were about to become leader of an entire guild, and you needed to look your best. Besides, the thought of hooking up with someone at the fundraiser didn't sound so bad. You had needs after all, and you were going to satisfy them.

"There she is!" Jayce spotted you through the crowd of people, with Mel's arm looped around his.

You were glad that they were officially together. Too long they played pretend. You greeted them, deciding to be their third wheel since you didn't know that many people there. The life of an artist was quite lonely.

"I'm so glad you accepted my invitation." Councillor Medarda smiled. She seemed happier, and you wondered what it was like to have someone who made you laugh, who supported you and your work.

"It's an honour, Councillor. An unexpected one, I'll be honest." You quickly snatched a glass of champagne from a waiter. "But I've had something on my mind since I received your invitation. What exactly is the fundraiser about? The letter didn't mention anything."

"Ah, I must have forgotten to write that down." She scoffed. "The University of Piltover has decided to create a new department of arts and science combined."

"Oh, that is intriguing." You pondered the innovative idea. "How will that work?"

"Well, Jayce has been inspired by your talent. He believes that there are plenty of future students with the potential of incorporating both arts and science in their work." Mel said. "He'll explain more in the following days, but for now, enjoy the event."

"Thank you, Councillor." You nodded with a smile. "Are you alright, Jayce? You look impatient."

"Yeah, I'm just keeping an eye on the entrance. Viktor should be here soon." He nonchalantly said.

"Sorry? Viktor?" The smile disappeared from your lips as quickly as it appeared. 

"Oh, I didn't tell you?" Jayce avoided looking into your eyes, fearing for his life. He could feel you seething at the mere mention of Viktor's name.

"No. No, you didn't fucking tell me." You whispered the obscene word, not wanting to draw any attention. "What else haven't you told me?"

"Well, um-" He fumbled for words, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. 

"Spit it out, Talis."

"You'll be working together."

"What? We'll be what?" You couldn't believe the words that came out of his mouth. And it didn't help that you heard his familiar voice and thick accent creeping behind your back.

"Good evening, Jayce. Councillor." Viktor greeted them, but you couldn't turn around. You couldn't face him.

So much for being tough. Your heart was beating against your ribcage, desperately trying to crawl out of your chest and run away from him. The pit in your stomach made you sick — you could actually taste bile on your tongue, and the champagne glass slowly slipped from your fingers as your palms became clammy with sweat. Not even the exams in Ionia made you feel as panicked as he did. But you were a grown woman. You couldn't let him put you down like that.

"Viktor." You articulated his name without an ounce of anxiety in your voice, then turned around to look at him.

You were pleased to see he was just as shocked to see you there as you were to see him — even more shocked to see you dressed so differently than how he remembered. Good. The bastard needed a reminder that you weren't a coward, nor a prude. And it made you consider that he also didn't know you two would be working together. How convenient for you.

"Miss Painter." Venom dripped down his tongue. How dare he be affected by your presence? "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He didn't know. You thanked your stars for that. A shit-eating grin crept on your lips, and just as Jayce was about to open his mouth, you said it.

"Oh, you didn't know? We'll be working together. I'm absolutely thrilled!" You lied through your teeth and Jayce slowly turned his head to glare at you. A minute ago, you looked like you were about to have a heart attack, now you were thrilled to work with him?

"How utterly... terrific." Viktor forced a smile. "No, I didn't know. Jayce, a word?"

"No need, I'll leave you to it. Gentlemen, Councillor." You nodded and stepped away, blending with the crowd, eyes set on some poor man who was about to be your distraction for the night.

His name was Alfred, or Arthur. Something with an A. It didn't matter. He was good looking, with broad shoulders and much taller than you. But he talked. A lot. You politely nodded at everything he said, trying to keep up with the conversation, but anything he said fell on deaf ears. You weren't interested in him, not after seeing Viktor, who looked much better than last time, healthier. He went so far as to adjust his cane to look similar to the one in your portrait — the fucking hypocrite. And even the suit he was wearing was purple. You matched, and your stomach churned at that epiphany. What if people thought you were together?

You rolled your eyes when Arthur, or Alfred, spoke about how ridiculous the idea of combining science and arts was. The desire to pour your champagne in his lap was great, but your self-restraint was greater. Somehow. Paying him no mind, you dissociated, daydreaming of being in your atelier and working on a new painting, of buying new materials, new canvases. Yes, that was much better than listening to Alfred, or Arthur, yap about something his small brain couldn't comprehend. 

Even amongst hundreds of people, Viktor only saw you, and the thousand-yard stare on your face. You were quite obviously bored, and there was an impulse, an instinct to go and save you from the dull conversation that you weren't even a part of. But he couldn't. Deep down, Viktor knew he might have overreacted when he last saw you, but you made it quite clear that you wanted nothing to do with him, and he respected that. It pained him, because he grew used to your presence in the lab, but what could he do? 

He found it comforting that you wore the colours of his suit — of his portrait. It gave him hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a minuscule possibility that you weren't upset with him anymore. But Viktor wasn't an idiot. He knew all too well that the wrath of a woman scorned wasn't something that passed so easily. And he felt the spite in your voice when you blatantly lied about being thrilled to work with him. Oh, right, he forgot about that when he got lost in your eyes, even from across the ballroom. 

How were you going to work together when neither of you wanted that? Surely you could set aside any grudges, he thought. But could he? While the portrait did hinder his illness, Viktor still assumed that you weren't serious about him being your model. Your muse, even. How could someone like him be the object of your artistic desire? No, that was improbable. Impossible. 

"And that's when I said what do you call a woman who has lost 95% of her intelligence? Divorced!" Arthur, or Alfred, slapped his knee, laughing at his own sexist joke, and that was enough for you to regret your decision of approaching him.

"Excuse me, I'm going for some fresh air." You walked away from him as fast as you could.

Stepping out on the balcony, you shivered when the cool air kissed your skin. A coat would've been smarter than a slit in your dress, but freezing to death was better than hearing one more fucking joke about women. You just hoped Alfred, or Arthur, or whatever the fuck his name was, wasn't going to come looking for you. Leaning on the handrail, you sighed. What were you going to do? How were you going to work with Viktor for an indefinite amount of time? There was so much uncertainty about the future, and it scared you. The responsibilities of leading a guild scared you. The changes in your routine scared you. The idea of working with someone who hated you scared you.

The speech! You forgot about the blasted speech, and you ran back inside at the right time. Councillor Shoola invited you on the stage just as you entered the ballroom, and with a fake smile and complaisant nods, you walked up the few steps, blinded by the lights directed on you. Shoola shook your hand, and awarded you with a silver pin — a symbol of your new status as Guild Leader. The amount of people staring at you was overwhelming, but you took a deep breath in and adjusted microphone on the stand. When you looked down at your hands, you were surprised to find them empty. Where were the cards you had prepared? Where was your speech?

Then you remembered the balcony. You had forgotten the cards outside. Shit. Fuck. No matter, you could improvise. Even if your throat was dry, and your legs were numb, you could improvise. You did that before, plenty of times. But the hundreds of eyes that stared into your soul made it impossible to think, to breathe, to exist.

Um, good evening, everyone." You started, eyes narrowed down on Mel, who nodded in encouragement. Licking your chapped lips, you continued. "It brings me great honour to stand here in front of you..." Cringing at the crack in your voice, you found Jayce, who beamed at you, like he always did. That gave you a bit more hope. "...as the new Master of Arts."

You couldn't do this. 

They weren't looking at you, they were looking inside of you. They could see every fibre of your body, every imperfection, every weakness. You tried closing your eyes and pretending they weren't there, but when you opened them, it was worse. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you tried to steady your breathing, to stop yourself from hyperventilating. 

A pair of soft amber eyes found yours, and you couldn’t believe how calming they were. Even after the fiasco that was your meeting with Viktor, you still found inspiration in him, and that offended you. 

"We are here to celebrate a marriage." You spoke with newfound confidence stemming from sheer anger. "A marriage between science and art. A sacred union that some find ridiculous, others impossible. I find it a splendid symbiosis of reason and emotion. Too long art and science have mutually excluded each other, and while they both individually progressed immeasurably, their union has the potential to break boundaries, to make new discoveries, to bring people together. I will proudly represent the Guild of Artists in this new and fascinating adventure. Thank you, Councillors, for the distinction bestowed upon me. Thank you to Professor Heimerdinger for allowing this journey to happen. And thank you to everyone who believes in this pursuit of knowledge."

[blue-sadie]

Sun Bathing

Neteyam, Lo'ak x Neteyams Best Friend Reader x Aonung, Rotxo

Summary: the boys can get quite annoying hopefully this would keep them away for some time

Warning: the boys are perverts, jerking off, only male pleasure, aged up characters

It wasn't everyday I just got to breathe and relax, but here I am sun bathing in my sport bra and shorts chatting away with tsireya and kiri.

"Don't look now but there's creeps in the bush" kiri stated glancing over her shoulder towards the boys who were kneeling a few meters away whispering away with eachother.

"Should we move" tsireya asked sitting up to look at us, I sighed in disapproval "why should we their the ones being pervs" I muttered only glancing towards the boys who jerk away from sight when they saw that they were caught.

I rolled my eyes 'freaks' I layed my arm over my eyes sheltering them from the burning sun "you might be ok with them watching you but I think me and tsireya are gonna go" kiri said and they both said their goodbyes before leaving.

I let out a relaxed sigh quickly rolling my shoulders and getting comfortable on the warmed sand "look what we have here" aonung laughed bashfully as he and the rest of the boys surrounded me.

I only lifted my arm to look at neteyam "I didn't know you were apart of the common pervs nete" I murmured making him blush and shy away "im not a pervert" he tried sounding confident but his words ended in a slight squeak.

"Well I mean have you seen what you look like" lo'ak clapped and he stared down at me with hungry eyes "now now boys I'm relaxing go jerk off some place else" I shooed them away only making them laugh.

"But your just so sexy sitting here in the sun" aonung bit his lip as he folded his arms over his chest "and you like a prepubescent teen now shoo" I muttered getting annoyed at them disturbing me.

"You can do something for us first sweetcheeks" lo'ak groaned as he grabbed his crotch making aonung and rotxo laugh, I exhaled forcefully and slowly rose to my cheeks.

"Fine but you guys owe my 5 months without chores" I said making the boys howl out in excitement "come on" lo'ak muttered and grabbed my hand pulling me into the forest the others following very closely.

When we came into a clearing far from the village did he finally let me go "are you sure about this yn" neteyam whispered to me his voice full of concern.

"If it gets you guys to leave me alone" I giggled and pulled my top off making his eyes bulge "f-fuck" he stuttered.

Aonung pulled me to a rock and pushed me down on it and they crowed around me, Lo'ak reached out his hand and caressed my cheek.

"Will you guys leave me alone after this" I asked and gasped as aonung grabbed my breasts "well it was a deal wasn't it" he groaned and pitched my nibbles making me moan in pain.

They pulled off my clothes leaving me bare and the gaped at my body and started touching themselves as they said all the things they wanted to do to me.

I started caressing myself teasing them slowly making themselves jerk off faster and groan at my teasing, I dragged my fingertips up and down my body leaving goosebumps along my body.

"C-cuming" "fuck" they cussed as the cam spraying their cum on me, making me gasp, they calmed down and helped me clean up and walk back to the beach.

Let's just say they didn't keep to their end of the deal

[celestialprincesse]

police officer!Simon x detective!reader perhaps..? reader is higher ranked than him

I love love love this dynamic💕 @alwaysshallow writes Ghost and Higher ranked!reader perfectly too! I'd highly recommend reading their stuff on them!

The wind is nothing short of biting as you stand outside the forensics tent, pulling your coat tighter around your shoulders with a huff. Your watch reads 04:17AM, Thursday the 14th of November. Cold and tired. Homicides always come at the worst times. Sirens and blindingly bright blue and red lights only serve to worsen the migraine you can feel clawing up the back of your neck, trying to find purchase within the walls of your skull, already swimming with ugly ideas and images.

"-ed a perimeter." The gruff rumble of Simon 'Ghost' Riley's voice snaps you from your self pitying reverie, his eyes crinkling at the sides in a small, secret smile when you look up at him with bleary, confused eyes, envying the balaclava which covers his face from the nose down. "What?" A wince crinkles your stinging, cold face as your voice cracks like broken radio static. Simon's face softens at your obvious weariness. "You need to stop staying up so late." He chides you like a parent would a child, concern melting his brown eyes into molten brass. It's easy for him to forget that not everyone shares the same military background as him, that most can't go for days with only a few hours of sleep and stay sharp. "I was working on the Makarov case." You huff, running your hands down your face in an attempt to wipe away the lingering tiredness settled there. "I know it's eating at you, but you're no use to anyone when you can barely keep your eyes open." Simon's voice takes on that chastising tone that reminds you of his former military prowess - pre honourable discharge. The thought still makes you sad, fills your chest with warm, sticky pity, choking you up with a lump in your throat.

You stuff your hands into your pockets in a futile attempt to stave off the cold, rumbling out complaints and drawing instinctively closer to your colleague as he parts the crowd of forensic scientists and officers with his presence alone. The officer doesn't hesitate to lay his coat across your shoulders, forever looking out for you, if not just to see the way you relax under the warm weight of his jacket. "Can we go for breakfast after this?" A gentle smile flickers across Simon's face as you plead with him. The strength of your stomach never fails to surprise him, your ability to think about food in the middle of a crime scene eternally entertaining. Truly a person after his own heart. "Course we can."

You're not really sure why you're here, seeing as you only seem to get in the way of forensics gathering evidence as Simon walks you around the scene, detailing what the team knows so far about the crime, leaving you and your tired mind to decipher the rest. Unfortunately, with the lack of caffeine and bacon in your system, all you can do is nod dumbly and try to hide the way you keep yawning. Simon, as always, is ever present at your back, your side, letting you lean into him or mutter about how hungry you are under the pretence of talking about information relating to the crime. He's known you for long enough now to know that trying to get your brain firing at this time in the morning is futile. You work better at night.

Before Simon is given the opportunity to usher you away from the impending crushing of some poor kids' hopes and dreams, one of Graves' wide eyed, freakishly excited mentees is making a beeline your way - not that you notice when you've got your head in your hands and no will to live. The prepubescent sounding screech of their voice makes you wince, drilling a hole in your skull just big enough for the migraine to slip through. "You worked under Laswell right?" They chirp, far too energised for this obscene hour in the morning, and for someone play investigating the scene of a double homicide. "Yup." The dull, tired drone of your voice should be enough indication that you're not feeling talkative, and the look Simon angles them is unwavering enough to make a grown man weep. Not that they seem to notice. Or care. "Isn't this so cool? like a real life, actual homicide? Did you see the bodies? They were so gross."

Simon notices the way you bristle, shoulders at your ears. Despite your grumbling, you have the decency to respect the dead, something that Kate taught you long ago. "One of them had this like-" is enough to send you over the edge, shooting the kid a cruel look as you stand from where you'd been hunched in the back of the police van. "Enough." You growl, and Simon reaches out to place a grounding hand on the small of your back, trying his best to soothe your anger. "Don't be so fucking immature." The sound of your hiss is enough for the trainee to take a nervous step back. "Those are dead people. Those are dead people that were brutally murdered, in their beds at shit o'clock in the morning. Have some respect." You snap before pointing back at Graves with a furious blaze in your tired eyes. "Now go back to your shitty mentor and rifle through some bins."

"I'm impressed." Simon perks up from behind you, waiting with open arms for you to inevitably stumble into, emotionally and physically exhausted. "Breakfast?" You plead again into the plain fabric of his jumper. "Breakfast."

[snakeoilpictures]

The problem with pro-shippers: NSFW child content

Silence is golden but that only pertains to certain cases. The subject of pro-ship vs anti-ship has been a huge manner of debate in fandoms, primarily A03 and A03's subreddit and tumblr community. If you admit to being anti-ship, you're suddenly exiled and considered a pariah to the community and a promoter of cancel culture.

"Let people enjoy things!" "It's not real, it's fictional!" "These characters and actors are our toys to play with" "Disregard all haters, they're the monsters"

Only goes so far in some subjects. There is a fine line drawn when the content involves CSEA that's not told with a negative connotation.

However, pro-shippers do not like being told the difference.

The difference between a negative narrative and a romanticizing narrative. (ie: we as readers and the author know that pedophilia and child pornography is bad. Versus: we as readers and the author enjoy fictional pornography when it involves children and we enjoy writing 10 year olds having sex with other 10 year olds or a 10 year old calling a 40 year old man "daddy" during NSFW acts).

That the characters being fictionalized completely disregards all notions that the author and readers enjoy reading about children in NSFW content. Because it's "fictional".

That if you like watching a cannibal on TV and the fact that you may enjoy a show about a cannibal, it doesn't make you a cannibal because it's fiction. This argument is used on the daily for pro-shippers.

4. Because no children are actually harmed. That may be, but the reader and author are still enjoying content that involves the images of children in NSFW scenarios.

The fact of the matter is that it doesn't matter if the children are fictionalized or not, but no pro-shipper is going to agree because the characters in themselves are considered "toys" they can play with. (Don't get me started on how wrong the term of "toy" sounds in regards to children, fictional or not.)

The true facts here are that the reader and author are still putting a child's face onto a character involved in NSFW content. That's all it is. Picturing a child's prepubescent body parts as a character and finding that attractive enough to write about in an NSFW fashion. Again, pro-ship will disagree and become hostile.

But why is NSFW fictional child pornography morally wrong when writing fictionalized incest pornography is not?

Because the fictionalized incest pornography does not involve actual siblings or family members. One may just like the characters together regardless of blood. It doesn't mean that the author or reader is attracted to their real life sibling or wishes to put two real life siblings together in NSFW scenarios like Liam and Chris Hemsworth and because child pornography is CSEA. A child cannot consent. Even fantasizing about a fictional child in rape scenarios is beyond levels of fucked up.

"But fictionalized incest isn't real so fictionalized child pornography isn't real"

The biggest difference is that the reader and writer aren't finding the real life prospect of incest attractive, but they are finding CSEA content an attractive scenario.

But god forbid you raise your voice against this, and you'll be crucified.

It. Doesn't. Matter. That. They're. Not. Real.

You are still attracted to the images of child characters.

But wait, no actual children were harmed?! "It's just an instrusive thought" "I can safely look at CSEA in a safe environment where I don't hurt anyone" No. Get help. Get therapy. Harm reduction is not thr same when it comes to non consenting minors and when it comes to a user getting off on the idea of children. Get help. There is no lesser evil here. These thoughts are not okay.

Come @ me. I'm not scared. Not as scared as some pro-shippers should be once their search history is discovered. (For the record, I pray you do not have this kind of content on your person. However if you truly believe CSEA is okay if no one is physically harmed by you then by all means, tell your therapist about it)

#end rant

[caffedrine]

Nokto Klein - Beyond the Connection Between the Past and the Present – Event Summary

This is mostly a summary for me - I make no promises on the accuracy of what’s happening. I’m not nearly fluent enough to get half the jokes/innuendo much less accurate plot points.

When Emma pokes her head out of the blankets one morning, she blearily sees familiar gray hair and red eyes. Oh, was Nokto watching her sleep again? How embarrassing.

Her voice full of sleep, Emma calls out to Nokto and asks if there’s something wrong. When he doesn’t reply, Emma surmises that he must want to be pampered today. Reaching a hand out from under the blankets, Emma combs his hair back.

Nokto giggles, telling her that she’s ticking him. Weirdly, he also calls her ‘big sister’.

. . .

Huh?

Was Nokto’s head always so little? And was his voice always so prepubescent? Emma looks closer at Nokto, but he was standing instead of kneeling next to the bed. Was Nokto always so short?

Suddenly Nokto, in all his adult glory walks into the room, breezily wishing Emma a good morning and asking if she’s awake yet.

He stops when he sees the kid and there’s a long silence. Nokto breaks it, asking Emma to explain the situation to him.

After the explanations are over, and Nokto has taken a nice long look at the kid, he guesses that this himself as a child.

(This, but a smaller head)

Lil’Nokto asks if this is what he’s like as an adult, and Nokto admits that, unfortunately, he is.

Lil’Nokto asks what he means by ‘unfortunately’ and Nokto admits that he’s bad with children.

Emma muses that Nokto’s past self really is here with them, and Nokto wonders if this is some sort of dream. Experimentally, Emma pinches her cheek.

Lil’Nokto is aghast - doesn’t she know that if she does that, her face will freeze and never return?

How cute!

Emma assures Lil’Nokto that she’s fine, see?

Oh, okay, that is true. Still, Lil’Nokto urges her to take better care of herself, he doesn’t want anything to happen to her beautiful face.

Emma asks Nokto how she can endure this . . . This unfiltered cuteness. Nokto grumbles that she never reacts like that when he says sweet stuff too.

Of course, just in case she’s wondering, Nokto also thinks she’s beautiful.

Her face going red, Emma thanks him. Wow, there really is something different when the adult calls her beautiful.

Well, as much fun as it is competing with some kid for Emma’s affections, they do need to figure some things out. He asks Lil’Nokto what he was doing before he arrived in the future.

Lil’Nokto has an easy answer - he was with his brother Licht, have they seen him?

As Nokto replies that he hasn’t seen Licht, Emma imagines running into adult!Licht, who would be as confused as the rest of them.

Lil’Nokto is worried, he needs to find Licht in order to return home. If he can’t find Licht, and is alone with his mother . . .

. . .

Thinking fast, Nokto ‘remembers’ seeing Licht. It looked like he had found adult!Licht and last he saw, they were riding a horse together. They’ll probably be back after dark.

An adult version of Licht!? Lil’Nokto sounds excited.

Well, there’s no point in worrying about it until after dark, so why don’t they do whatever they want? It looks like Emma over there is dying to feed them some sweets!

Turning to her, Lil’Nokto asks if it’s true, which it is. Emma promises to make him anything he likes, and he promises that he loves everything.

Okay, Emma will just have to make a variety.

Suddenly Lil’Nokto gasps and points - Emma has an injury! That red oval mark, right on her neck.

As Lil’Nokto panics, adult!Nokto has to turn away to laugh. He assures Lil’Nokto that while it may be red, Emma doesn’t find it painful at all.

Huh?

Oh-ooooh. The hickey Nokto left last night.

Her cheeks growing red with embarrassment, Emma assures him that she’s fine and thanks him for being worried for her.

Anyways, while she’s cooking, Nokto will take care of Lil’Nokto. He has so many things he wants to teach him while Emma is away . . .

When Emma returns with tea and snacks, they begin playing a card game. A card game that Emma immediately loses. Weird, she used to be pretty decent at cards.

It’s down to Nokto and Lil’Nokto, with Nokto pronouncing the sweets go to the winners. Lil’Nokto cheers at this, and dives in. When they had started, Lil’Nokto had been hesitant about eating, but with Nokto’s idea to use sweets as the reward, any hesitation Lil’Nokto had is gone.

Lil’Nokto begins to ask to play again- this time with a different reward but falls silent.

While he stuffs himself with more sweets, Emma leans into Nokto and asks what he was talking about while she was in the kitchen.

Oh, not much. He just wanted to give Lil’Nokto some advice that would come in handy.

Huh, maybe he was giving him card game tips?

Emma pronounces that for the next card game, she’s not going to go easy on Lil’Nokto just because he’s a child. From now on, she’ll go all out.

Lil’Nokto is surprised - Emma wasn’t being serious?

(She was, she had gone all out)

In that case, Lil’Nokto agrees not to go easy on her either, he won’t hold back anymore.

What a challenge! Nokto pronounces the winner gets to ask the loser for anything. Anything at all.

This is a little more interesting than gambling for sweets, right?

Emma braces herself; she can’t lose.

One loss later . . .

Emma sits with her head down. She is the loser, and depending on who wins the next round, she’ll have to reward either Nokto or Lil’Nokto with anything they want.

They both play their last cards, and the winner is . . . Lil’Nokto. Emma can’t help but catch the glimpse of a card in Nokto’s sleeve, he had been cheating on his younger self’s behalf.

A win is a win. Nokto reminds Lil’Nokto that he can claim his victory from Emma, but what will he request?

Lil’Nokto barely has to think - does she remember earlier that morning when she stroked his head? He wants her to do that again.

Emma complies, gently stroking Lik’Nokto’s hair. It’s so soft and fluffy. Lil’Nokto murmurs that her hand is so warm and nice, he could stay like this for ever.

To her surprise, Nokto has a sad and lonely expression. Emma asks if something is wrong, and Nokto admits that there was a time that he was like this.

Okay then.

Emma beckons Nokto to join them. He does, telling Emma that she doesn’t have to do this.

Okay, but she wants to.

Well, fine. If it’s what she wants, he’ll indulge her.

Though there is no guarantee this will last beyond this moment, Emma wants both Nokto and Lil’Nokto to feel happy.

Both are important to her.

[acetonelungz]

Jaws

pt1 pt2 pt3 pt4

Simon Riley was a whisper in the wind.

Rumors and wise tells of the infamous “Ghost” haunted every soldier, even those not on the opposing team.

He was scary. And not the little kid monster type of scary, scary as in he stood in the corner and watched you like prey. Scary in the way that everyone thought of him as a ticking time bomb. Expect for John Price.

“So are you in, Simon?”

“Ghost is in, Simon is gone.”

“Ah, right. My bad mate.”

And now he was here, in enemy territory aiding in the rescue of some soldier.

Simon was the type to not question missions and just simply get the job done.

This one was different though.

Why make a big fuss over some low grade soldier? Quite a bit of trouble over a nobody. His questions remained mere thoughts, as he wouldn’t question out loud his authoritative figures. Ghost also quite literally couldn’t give two fucks.

Following Price, he scoured the hallways, making sure to take down everything threat and security camera. Soon enough, they arrived at a heavily locked door.

“This outta be it.” Price whispered back towards Ghost. “Plantin’ a lil package.” He placed an IUD on the door and quickly found cover before an explosion sounded off.

Deciding to do double kill, he threw a flash bomb to curb any possible threats.

Upon running into the space, he discovered exactly what they had been looking for.

A little feisty brunette who attempted to kick him in the balls.

“I’m Captain Price and we’re here to rescue you.”

“Took ya fucking long enough.” Ghost chuckled.

“Whats funny fuckface?” He did not chuckle this time.

Price huffed a half-assed laugh while lifting her up by the arms, “Easy there, we’re just here to help and we need to leave asap.” With that he turned and headed towards the now torn up door.

She followed wordlessly behind him, as well as Ghost.

As they walked towards around the base, the bodies of soldiers could be seen all along the corridors and hallways. One in particular, was the guard from earlier. It took everything within her not to spit on his dead body, but rather she lightly kicked it. In return Price gave her a unsatisfied look.

“I think after what I’ve been through I can at least do that.”

He nodded without saying a word.

Soon enough they reached the massive tan military trucks just outside the base, only two were present which sparked confusion within the woman.

“How many of there were you?”

“What’d you expect a bloody army private?” Ghost huffed from underneath his mask.

This royally pissed her off.

She quickly got into his face, sneering “Actually it’s lieutenant, and for how many bodies there were I assumed there were more of you. Not an unintelligent question but rather an unintelligent response.”

“You have five seconds to get the fuck out of my face-“

“Okay you two.” Price quickly separated the two, focused on the woman while saying, “We need to be cordial if we’re going to figure this entire thing out. Once we get back to base there are many questions we need to find the answer to. The sooner we get back the sooner you can be done with this all. So knock it off and get the in the bloody truck.”

“Yes Captain.” They said in unison, the woman glared at Ghost while he remained unbothered. Realizing it wasn’t worth it, she dropped it and got in the truck.

‘My first interaction with people in six months and this is what I’m dealing with. One dressed up asshole who is awkward as a prepubescent boy and an old man who thinks he’s my father.’ She thought while riding in the back while Ghost rode passenger with Price driving.

“I forgot to ask earlier,” Price started, breaking the girl out of her thoughts. “Can you confirm your name and status?”

“Lieutenant Collette Swanson also known as Jaws.”

[burst-of-iridescent]

How do you feel about the “zutara can’t happen because it would break aang”?

you know what this "argument" always reminds me of?

forgive me if aang's feelings aren't exactly a vital factor to take into account when it comes to a relationship that has absolutely zip zilch nada to do with him. he's literally twelve. he'll grow up. he'll get over it. he'll be perfectly fine. i promise he's not gonna spend his life mooning over some girl he liked as a prepubescent child, and if he does - well, that sounds like it's time to head to therapy.

and why is it exactly that it's perfectly fine for katara to have to sacrifice her own happiness to mollycoddle aang all her life, but asking aang to go through a little preteen heartbreak is a crime against humanity? why on earth should aang's happiness take precedence over katara's?

but of course, when the show itself spends so much time focusing on aang's feelings, it's only natural that katara's would seem utterly irrelevant and unimportant in comparison. it's no surprise that this is exactly the kind of argument a ship as misogynistic and one-sided as kat.aang would produce.

[victorckk]

Would og no heart have ever been able to reformed like unleash?

As someone who’s been in love with him since I was 4-6, I have very mixed feelings. I think.

RAMBLING AHEAD.

Yippee!!

On one hand, a part of me doesn’t think so, because a lot of cartoon villains in the 80s (to my knowledge) weren’t really fleshed out, and only existed to be evil and nothing more or less.

But the other part of me hangs on to that small bit of copium.

I am a HUGE sucker for fleshed out and developed villains, and I really would have loved to see what made him evil in the first place and why he hates positive feelings so much. Even though he technically doesn’t, as we’ve seen how much he cares for Shreeky in a few episodes (and would never dare to get rid of Beastly as seen in another one).

Makes me wonder if it’s a facade and he only acts uncaring and heartless to be quirky, or if he’s just the type of guy who has no idea how to handle his feelings if he does have some sort of care left over still.

I would have loved to see the OG No Heart reform, but I also would have loved to see him suffer while being reminded why he doesn’t care anymore. Make that man suffer

• • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Now, of course, UTM couldn’t exactly make him too dark and violent of a villain like the original. Considering the show is targeted towards younger audiences, and a lot of laws and rules regarding cartoons for children have changed since the 80s, especially in certain regions.

Although, I am still upset about the prepubescent sounding voice change (they didn’t even try) and turning him into an idiot routes that the studio went with. He isn’t that dumb, I mean.. come on.

I can still see why they reformed him though, even if I don’t agree with it.

As a (I think?) preschool show that’s based on helping others and spreading love and caring, yeah. I could have seen it coming from a mile away.

However… I still think they should have fleshed him out a lot more before doing it. Maybe a two or three parter special where they go into detail about his backstory, why he became the way he was, and make him work on fixing the problems he caused instead of automatically making everyone forgive him (my biggest cartoon pet peeve).

• • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Augh I rambled too far from the topic at hand, but- I think if they would’ve kept the Nelvana series going at the time, it could’ve gone two ways.

They either could’ve gone the same route as most shows in the 80s and kept him evil with no other personality or backstory whatsoever. Or they could’ve pulled a Uno Reverse on us and give him a traumatic backstory for the heck of it.

I’m really hoping they do end up bringing him back, but not in UTM. I want to see a new series revolving around him, or a series where he’s the main villain again. Something like MOTU Revelation/Revolution (only example I can come up with) where he gets an actual backstory AND has a reason for being the way he is.

[bella-goths-wife]

Murder at the frat party

Evil trio x reader

The four of you arrived to a cheap motel after the train ride. They reassured you that the cullens wouldn’t reach you and it would be safe, that and the weather was going to be nice and they couldn’t risk sparkling.

Victoria and James decided it would be best to be separated for the night so she could stay with you in a different room. They knew that you wouldn’t go back to the cullens but they couldn’t risk you running.

You felt yourself begin to grow thirsty as you pondered wether or not animals would be close by. You hated hurting and killing animals, they were innocent creatures and didn’t deserve it.

“Your getting thirsty aren’t you?” Victoria asks with a giggle, you nod “don’t worry, we’ll be heading out as soon as it gets darker”

“Where will we go?” You ask curiously

“We’ll walk around until we can find some kind of group we can feed off” she says casually as she starts to put away the clothes she had In her large hand bag

“How do you get them to follow you?” You questioned

“Good old seduction” Victoria says while posing dramatically “speaking of, we need to find you a new outfit”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You ask, not fully comfortable with dressing in front of someone

Victoria sighs as she eyes your pink sporting outfit with thrills on the sleeves and bows

“It’s a bit childish” she confesses “your a three hundred year old vampire, not a thirteen year old princess”

“I never really liked pink” you confessed “Rosalie usually chooses my outfits”

“Well that’s going to change” Victoria says with a smile “your an adult, you can choose your own sense of style”

“That sounds nice” you smile at the idea of the independence

“Give me one second and I’ll find us an outfit” she says as she heads out the door in the shaded area of the motel

You pondered where she went, she couldn’t go shopping it was way to light. As soon as you zoned out to think about it, Victoria returned with two suitcases with the names ‘Haley’ and ‘Chrissy’ labelled on them.

“You get Chrissy, she’s the same size as you” Victoria says as she puts the bag on the bed and opens it “Who leaves their bags outside a motel?”

“Won’t you get in trouble?” You ask hesitantly

“Probably” Victoria says with a playful grin “but who cares”

You both dig through the suitcases and Victoria gleefully chooses while your stumped. You don’t remember the last time you picked an outfit, the last time you did corsets were still mandatory.

“Having trouble?” Victoria asks as she ventures to your bed, you nod confused “want help?”

“Yes please” you sigh out

Victoria pulled stuff out and asked your opinion before putting it in a yes and no pile. It was refreshing that she didn’t immediately choose for you and actually asked you opinion.

“What about this?” She asked as she pulled out a cute top, you nodded and she smiled at your approval “it might be a bit big, do you mind trying it on for me?”

You shifted uncomfortably for a few seconds at the thought of changing in front of her. Victoria notices and gives you a comforting look

“I can turn around if you want?” She offers gently

“No, it’s fine” you reassure as you lift your shirt above your head.

Victoria double takes after a moment. That’s when she noticed what was hidden under your top. Your chest was layered in multiple bandages that binded your chest down forcefully.

“Why do you wear them?” She asks carefully as you look at her confused

“Esme said that girls as young as me wear these all the time” you said confused

Victoria felt realisation hit her. The reason you looked so long wasn’t your doing, it was theirs. They had tried to keep you in a prepubescent body to make you look more childlike. They were sick

“Aren’t you uncomfortable?” She asks while looking at the back of the bandages which were being held together by pins that went through your skin.

“I used to be” you confessed “but it’s not as bad since I don’t have to breathe and my skin heals around the pins, it hurts when I take it off though”

“This isn’t what you should be wearing” Victoria informed “you should be wearing a bra”

“What’s a bra?” You questioned

Victoria answers the question by rooting through the suitcase and finding a black bra that she guessed was your size. She then carefully takes off the bandages before turning around and talking you through putting the bra on.

“This is more comfortable” you confessed

“Not for long” Victoria jokes as she looks at the outfit the two of you assembled together “here, I’ll help you put this on”

(This is the outfit I envisioned but you can change it any way you want, this is just what I see)

“You two are looking nice” Laurent remarks as he and James enter your room

“Looking hot babe” James compliments Victoria as he kisses her forehead and she giggles, you envy them slightly

“So where are we hunting tonight?” Laurent asks impatiently, clearly thirsty

“Well some little bird called Chrissy was tweeting about some frat party in the lobby earlier” Victoria suggests as the four of you make your way out the room

“Are we sure that’s the best place for this one to start?” Laurent questions as he motions to you “these frats can be awfully aggressive and handsy”

“She’s not a child” Victoria chimes in “we shouldn’t treat her like one, she’s a grown woman who can easily kill anyone who goes too far”

Victoria looks at you for backup and you nod, assuring them that you’d be fine

“Well if your sure” Laurent sighs before looking at you calmly “just remember to come to us if someone is pushy”

You nod with a smile, your opinion mattered with this group. You’d never felt like that before, they valued your consent

You arrived at the fraternity, beta something. There were red solo cups lining the garden and passed out people on the porch. Music blared from speakers as the four of you headed inside.

Victoria grabbed you hand and took you to get a drink

“Can we even get drunk?” You asked doubtfully as Victoria handed you a drink

“Only if we drink a lot” she says as she pours an extra large dosage in your cup “we have a higher tolerance”

You nod as you spot james and Laurent talking to some girls, you tug on Victorias sleeve to get her attention and she giggles

“He’s just getting dinner” she reassures “we’ll have to do the same”

“I don’t think I can ‘seduce’ people” you said self consciously

“Your a beautiful girl, they’ll be tripping over themselves to talk to you” she comforts as she spots a boy approaching you and wiggles her eyebrows “speaking of, I’ll let you two talk”

Victoria walks away and the boy comes up to you with a playful grin

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here alone?” He asks and you freeze before remembering what you read in Victorias magazine earlier

“Looking for company” you try to say confidently but it came out slightly stiff, he didn’t care as he laughed

“Is that so?” He ask with a grin “me too”

You fake a giggle but it comes out high pitched and you wince. You turn your head slightly in embarrassment before seeing James staring at you

“Be careful” he whispers out so that only your vampiric hearing could pick up on it “he’s putting something in your drink”

You turn back to the boy and he’s slipping his hand in his pocket and looking at you innocently. You hearing picks up on the sound of sizzling from something dissolving in your drink. The boy just makes conversation with you as you wonder what to do

“Lead him to a secluded bedroom” James whispers advice “and then make your kill”

You gave a slight nod and grab the boys hand who looks at you confused.

“Follow me” you command as you start to walk with his hand in yours “let’s take this to a more intimate setting”

The boy excitedly follows as you use your hearing to find an empty bedroom. When you find one you drag him inside and close and lock the door.

“Your so fucking hot” he crudely says as you approach and he goes to kiss you. You dodge his kiss and put your mouth on his neck. He assumed that you were giving him a hickey “fuck yes”

You feel his pulse quicken as you dug your fangs into his fragile neck. You place your hand over his mouth to silence his cries of agony as your yellow eyes slowly turned red as you gulped down his fresh, fearful blood.

You always felt guilty after drinking from animals, they were innocent beings who didn’t deserve it. But some humans did deserve the cruelty of your fangs

His body dropped to the ground when you were done and you turned to find your three new friends staring at you in amusement.

Victoria throws her arms around you and hugs you

“You’ve get me feeling all proud like a big sister” she gushes as she helps you wipe blood from your blood

“Congrats kid” James says with a smile as he watches his mate fuss over you

They truly made you feel like you Belonged and even though they used child like pet names they treated you like an adult.

“Welcome to the club” Victoria says gleefully while she hugs you “little sis”

For the first time that nickname doesn’t breed disgust in your chest, instead you feel joy.

[dots3a]

I am going to die soon of kidney failure and long covid complications.

I just want to state for the record that I would have lived decades longer if not for Benjamin Thomas Sterrett. He is a predator.

His first romantic relationship was when he moved out of state and decided to lie to someone from his home town about his age so that they'd think it was appropriate to do sexual things with him in role play online, specifically on mudd.

She only found out the truth because they moved back into town. He has always pursued women who are masculine in some way, and he always chooses a woman with a neurodevelopmental disorder.

While we together he financially and emotionally abused me. I begged him, my therapist and my psychiatrist tried to convince him, to put me in in-patient psychiatric care because I could not function. Instead he called his sister whom I barely know who drove two hours distance to air on the back porch with me pouring me shots of liquor while talking about her own emotional problems.

Alcohol makes my deformed kidney experience extreme pain. It was his solution for my insomnia. I couldn't figure out why for the duration of our relationship I was having PTSD related night terrors about what happened to me when I was 11, 12, and 13. Then I had this pain inside of me and I thought it had to do with my kidney problems. I could barely walk. I went to the doctor and after several they finally looked inside my vagina where I had an inconceivably large hematoma. My doctor drained it of old blood and asked me if I had been raped. I couldn't even remember the last time we had had sex. He had been feeding me alcohol to "help" with my insomnia and then raping me in my sleep while I dreamt about being raped as a prepubescent child.

When I refused to drink alcohol after that he and our neighbor went on a six month long campaign to convince me to smoke weed. It did help, it also helped with my daily autistic meltdowns (from having to act like a neurotypical single mother when I am severely disabled and their father/my partner lived with us). So he would wait until all of it was gone and then get more days later, making sure I spent days melting down and not sleeping in between relief I had to rely on him for.

Finally my psychiatric team and I figured out that I am autistic. Ben acted like the information was earth shattering. He said all the right things. But after six months, nothing had changed. Everything was still entirely dependent on me, an autistic person with high support needs and deformed internal organs causing constant pain. I sat him down one day and I said I needed for him to start acting like I was autistic. He said,

"It sounds like you want me to leave."

I said,

"No, if you leave to me that would be the end our of our marriage and I don't want that."

He left. He moved half an hour away into a one bedroom apartment even though he made well over six figures, and we have three children. He was emotionally abusive openly in ways I could spot easily now. I would say things like "I need to know you know I can do this without you." And he would say "but I don't know that mae." Again, he is the one who left and not only did he leave he left to a place where the kids could not stay comfortably, an hours drive there and back, he left a high support needs physically disabled autistic person to take care of three kids 10 and under by themselves and then went onto the internet or anywhere anyone who knew us both went to cry and complain about how sad he was about his marriage ending.

Every other day, a different woman would message me to ask me why I was doing this to Ben. Every single one was skeptical at the idea that he was the one who left. I am autistic and I was having to have this conversation on a regular basis because of the lies Ben was telling everyone.

Two years later, Ben finally managed to get into a sexual relationship with someone five years younger than him who was living with their long term partner of many years who thought they were monogamous. I got to find out because they would have sex in that one bedroom apartment while the kids were all there. They would come home talking about how they saw Hanna naked or they asked their dad if he was dating Hanna but they're just good friends who love each other because Hanna has a boyfriend.

Six months after they started dating one night at nine, Ben told the kids he was going to take out the trash. He left the apartment with no trash. And hour later my kids were texting me because he had been gone for an hour and wasn't answering their calls or text. At 10:30 at night I got to his apartment to find all three of my kids terrified and him no where to be seen. It's okay though Hanna yelled at me in court that she knew he was "there" because she "was with him."

For a month, the kids would not go to his apartment because they were afraid he'd leave them again. Eventually I let them go back until in December my middle child let me know that every time Hanna called Dad, a naked picture of her came up on the child's iPad. Because Ben and Hanna think it is okay to set naked photos of people as their caller ID photo when there are children around (or at work I guess, that's fine too.)

Our middle child during this time period before disclosing why, had begun to self harm. I had them in therapy which is where they disclosed about the naked pictures and the beginning of self harm. I stopped forcing the kids to go over there at this point. For six months every time they were asked by their father to come over they told they did not want to go. So Ben and Hanna decided to take us to court.

We told the court about the abandonment of the children, and the exposure to homemade pornography. That earned them 50/50 custody because that sister who came to sit on my back porch and pour alcohol down my throat came to testify that she had "witnessed" my being suicidal and that suicidal people "aren't safe around children." She was along with her sister, btw, molested by her father before puberty, a fact they disclosed to Ben when I was pregnant. Ben's response was to still insist that our female children visit with and be around his pedophile father. He and his friends shamed me and rolled their eyes at me for not wanting him around the kids and refusing to let the kids be alone with him, a man who had molested his own children.

In court, we agreed to not sell the house the children and I were still living in until the youngest turned 18. One year later, our youngest is 10 and he has evicted us from our home so that he can sell it. He is telling everyone he knows it is because it is "unsafe for the children" to live there. The house was inspected during the court proceedings and found to be safe and clean. He has told the children it is because he has 65k in tax debt because he committed fraud. He also bought two of them apple laptops for Christmas, so I don't believe money is the reason. He just wants to harm me. Before we went to court, he was paying me 400 dollars for child support monthly. During court he made sure he wouldn't have to pay for all three (the oldest is biologically not his, met him at 1.5 and calls him dad and has a dead beat bio dad who pays no support.) When he began talking about selling the house it was made clear to him that I was not physically healthy enough to survive the move. I had been pissing and shitting blood since we moved. I have no access to medical care and if I make it to February (it is late December) it will be a shock.

This post does not get into the details of his emotional abuse or the state of the house when he lived here or the apartment when the kids had to be over there (because they have a disabled mother).

I am dying because Benjamin Thomas Sterrett of Charlotte, NC, married to Johanna Blackwell Sterrett, is an unrelenting abuser.

[carma-bis]

I think the one thing that always kept me peaked was playing video games with my older brother since I've been 7. I was safe when people thought I was male. Voice comms, team chats, online forms for the games, didn't matter. If I was male, I was safe. Sure people were mean, rude, downright disgusting, but even by the time I hit 12, and I started seeing how "grown" girls/women couldnt hide behind prepubescent innocence anymore (mainly do you sound young enough to be a boy before voice cracking) and just how night and day the behaviors males exhibeted towards them were, in a bad way. They stop responding to your callouts, then act like someone could have stopped their shitty decision (and then they dont talk to you for the rest of the game), they shout over you almost excessively, you're forced into support roles, "bitch" always ALWAYS has more vitriol, your opinion means nothing when the group is asked what they want to do, or you're put on a pedestal and all the men complain the entire time so you do it for 5 minutes then cave. Then you start getting groomed, older men start complimenting you more and more. they start questioning you when you push back. Every man you run into asks you out, no matter if youre friends or not or how long you've known each other, once you hit 16, it's like there's a fucking tag put on you. And its not immediate, one day you just start getting treated like that. Its gradual (except once they find out your 16, wild shit there). But I never understood why it could be so insulting for someone to think youre a man. It's literally the safest way to exist. And ya, because it has nothing to do with being safe, its about controlling a narrative. I never FORCED other men to call me a man, but I never corrected them when they called me one. And that's the difference, I think. And it's why i never fully went under lol. Cause literally no man wants to hear me talk about my experiences about it and thats peak material in and of itself. Why do I have to listen to you all the time but you refuse to listen to me?

[andiwriteordie]

mike has an asthma attack! will is there! you have free reign BUT mike must be wearing glasses bc he does not have working lungs OR eyes. ❤️

LISTEN EVERYONE. ASTHMATIC MIKE WHEELER WITH GLASSES IS SO REAL TO ME. THANK YOU FOR INDULGING THIS HEADCANON THEA. ILY.

say hi to mike wheeler being a nerdy little loser in love in this little modern college au!

—

so in love that i might stop breathing 

This was a bad idea.

No like… seriously, this was a bad idea, and Mike can practically hear the sound of his roommates’ laughter in the back of his mind. God, Max and Dustin are never going to let him live this down, are they? No, they’re definitely not, because they’re both a couple of jackasses who thrive off of making Mike’s life miserable. Every day, he asks himself why the hell he’s still best friends with them.

… 

Whatever. In this case, they were most definitely right, even though Mike insisted that they would not be.

And that is exactly why Mike Wheeler is currently jogging at his local park and trying not to… oh, you know… die and stuff.

There are a lot of things going wrong, and suddenly, Mike is reminded of why he nearly failed high school a few years ago, despite having pretty decent grades. Fucking gym class was nearly the death of him—like… actually. Yeah, tenth grade Mike had to run the mile and (very stupidly) forgot his inhaler in his locker on the other side of the building. He may or may not have had an asthma attack out on the field. Max may or may not have yelled at a lot of people while Dustin sprinted to grab Mike’s inhaler.

… 

They’re not here to bail him out this time, so that’s rather unfortunate. But hey, Mike does have his rescue inhaler this time—not that it’ll do much good, since he’s already taken it and technically shouldn’t take it again for another couple hours, according to the instructions. And honestly, that sucks because Mike has been running for the last fifteen minutes, and his chest feels all tight and itchy and gross. 

Not only that, but Mike is fucking sweating. It’s nearly the end of September, and they live in fucking Chicago, so why is it nearly 80 degrees outside? Climate change is fucking real, and it’s going to be the death of him. His face is all sweaty and disgusting, and his glasses are most definitely fogged up and about to fall off his damn face. It’s great. Really, really great.

And of course—of fucking course—the cherry on top of the cake is that he is here.

Yeah.

The most gorgeous guy Mike has ever seen in his life is here at the park, like he always is and like Mike expected him to be. He’s running laps like normal and wearing those stupid short shorts that Mike knows the track guys at school wear, and Jesus, Mike is so gay. He’s so fucking gay, and honest to God, he’s going to get distracted and trip over his fucking shoelaces because this guy is just so gorgeous. 

And Mike doesn’t know what the hell he was thinking, honestly. He’d just gotten some stupid idea last night when he was a little tipsy and had decided that the best way to get the attention of Gorgeous Runner Guy was to, in fact, become a Gorgeous Runner Guy himself. 

…

It’s not working.

Yeah, there’s no way in hell that Mike looks like a Gorgeous Runner Guy, because he’s over here gasping for air, struggling to finish the lap around the track, and sweating like he’s a prepubescent boy. Definitely not the best way to catch the attention of the gorgeous guy he’s been trying to work up the courage to talk to for the past month, so Mike thinks it’s probably just time to cut his losses and go sit down before he actually collapses on the ground and has an asthma attack or something.

(Dear God, imagine if he actually stopped breathing or some shit like that and Gorgeous Runner Guy had to give him mouth-to-mouth. Mike thinks he’d rather just die at that point.)

Once Mike finally makes it around the track, he walks over to the nearby bench, fighting the urge to just completely collapse onto it. His legs feel like jelly, and the water bottle Max had insisted he take this morning is already empty. His chest still feels all tight, and his pride definitely feels wounded. The walk of shame into his apartment is not going to be a fun ordeal, so as Mike sits down on the bench, he closes his eyes and tries to think through his roommates’ schedule.

Okay, so Dustin definitely has class today, so he shouldn’t be there. That’s good. Max should be going to work soon, so if Mike can hold out a little bit longer, he should be able to avoid her too. In the end, their teasing is inevitable, but Mike would really prefer to keep some of his dignity in tact and not let his best friends see him like this—

“Um, excuse me?”

Mike flinches sharply, and he opens his eyes, and hoooooly shit, holy shit, holy shit.

It’s Gorgeous Runner Guy.

Gorgeous Runner Guy smiles shyly, and he glances at the empty space on the bench next to Mike. “Um… do you mind if I sit with you?” he asks, a little bit breathless. “I, um… I just wanted to take a break, you know?”

Yes, yes, yes, and while you’re at it, do you want to marry me? the literally fucking insane part of Mike’s mind answers.

Mike, fortunately, does not say that aloud. Instead, he just nods hastily and scoots over, patting the bench. “Y-yeah,” he says breathlessly. “Of course.”

Gorgeous Runner Guy flashes another smile at him, and he takes a seat next to Mike. He’s close enough now that Mike can feel his warmth—or honestly, that must just be the stupid, fucking 80 degree weather. It could also be the fact that Mike is sweating. A lot.

“I’m Will, by the way,” Gorgeous Runner Guy introduces, turning to Mike and smiling, and God, did Mike mention how gorgeous he is? Because he is. He’s gorgeous. 

Oh. And his name is Will.

Will’s gorgeous.

“I… I’m gorgeous,” Mike says, and as soon as the words are out of his mouth, he catches the slip up. “Shit, no, that’s not what I meant! I mean, you… you’re gorgeous.. Wait, shit, I didn’t mean to say that either; um, shit, sorry. I’m… I’m Mike.”

(Once again, Mike can practically hear Max and Dustin laughing at him. And once again, he definitely deserves it.)

A surprised look forms on Will’s face, and his cheeks get a little bit rosier. He glances away for a moment, then looks back at Mike and shrugs. “I mean… you are,” he points out, a flirty smile forming on his face, and oh.

Oh.

Warmth rises to Mike’s cheeks, and he stares back at Gorgeous Runner Guy—er, Will—in surprise. “You… you’re joking right?” he asks in disbelief. 

Will just laughs, soft and sweet. “I’m not joking unless you are,” he says, a bit shyer now. “Are you joking?”

“No, no,” Mike reassures quickly. “I… I didn’t mean to say that actually, but… but I meant it.”

He pauses, wincing slightly. “Sorry,” Mike adds. “This is so not what I had in mind when I imagined talking to you for the first time.”

“It’s cool,” Will promises with another little laugh. His eyes crinkle a bit when he smiles, and he shrugs. “Maybe we should just… start over then?”

“Maybe,” Mike says, and as the two of them exchange a smile, he turns to fully face Will now. 

“Hi,” Mike introduces softly, holding out his hand for Will to take. “I’m Mike.”

The look on Will’s face softens, and he takes Mike’s hand. His touch is electric, and Mike’s breath catches—no surprise there. Something about Will has always taken his breath away.

“I’m Will,” Will replies, his voice just as soft. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

[lexosaurus]

The Phantom Martian: Chapter 15

Existential crisis for Danno time wooooo!

This fic is a crossover between Danny Phantom x The Martian. I found out today that Perseverance recently captured footage of a dust devil that was five times the height of the Empire State building. This is unrelated to this fic but I just thought it was a cool little thing and wanted to share.

xxxx

Summary: When Astronaut Mark Watney went to Mars, he knew there was a chance he'd never come home. Now, though, he's determined to last long enough for NASA to save him because this whole dying for science thing is not as fun as it sounds.

Meanwhile, Danny Fenton is just trying to keep his identity a secret amidst a potential crisis with his powers. Seriously, what's up with that weird current under his skin? Why is he having so much trouble controlling it? And why does it feel so familiar...?

In a fit of determination (and possible stupidity), Danny goes to Mars to save Watney, only to add to both their crises when he arrives and can't get home. Will NASA save them? Will Danny have a home to return to if they do?

Chapter WC: 5195

Fic Tags: Danny Fenton & Mark Watney, Canon Divergence, Ecton AU

Chapter excerpt under the cut

xxxx

“Mark, and yes I'm being serious, but you aren't actually trying to kill yourself here, are you?” Danny asked.

“No. If I was, I'd just switch the oxygenator off and flood the Hab with nitrogen. And I'd take a Vicodin. Or several.”

Now Danny really didn't know whether he should be confused or concerned.

Mark continued on anyway. “Listen, a new probe will never work. They’re rushing it! They won't be able to build half of the stuff needed in time. The probe would be lucky to make it off the ground, much less be able to transport all the food to Mars intact. And that's why we're not going to go with this plan.”

“We're not?” Danny asked, his voice rising to an embarrassing pitch. “Um, no offense, but aren't we sitting ducks here? It's not like we can build a rocket to take us home.”

“Aha! I thought you might say that!” Mark pointed to Danny, and from an angle, he looked less like an astronaut and more like the Mad Hatter minus the hat. “See, the thing is, Daniel James Fenton Phantom, is that I've been thinking. A lot.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes. And I've decided something.”

Danny was almost afraid to ask. “What have you decided?”

“I want you to buckle up, my dear little overpowered alien child. My lost, damned ecto-contaminated soul. My little prepubescent ecton-fusion filled halfa.” 

“I've hit puberty, actually! I’m seventeen! You literally gave me a cake-shaped potato and tried to use Martinez’s cross as a candle on my birthday!”

Mark ignored him, hunching over to rest his elbows on his knees and tucking his steepled hands into his chin. “You and I are going to solve this problem using ghost powers.”

[every-single-day]

What if ponyboy was like super hangry and when he's hungry he sees red...

Once upon a time in 1900s sweaty Oklahoma there was a house full of hungry boys and one particular hangry prepubescent boy.

"Ugh," Zero Sugar Shirley Temple 7-UP groaned. "I'm, like, so hungry!"

Mr Clean Curtis rolled his eyes at the middle child's dramatics. "All of us are. We ran out of food 2 days ago."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and who's fault is that?"

They all turned to stare at Two-Bit.

Dallas "Tulsa" Winston threw a beer can at Two-BIT before sinking to the floor. "I'm so hungry I could eat a horse." He sighed.

Ponyboy froze in place, slowly turning his head in Dally's direction. "You could eat a what..?" He had the expression of this emoji: 😰.

They all laughed.

"Why are you laughing at me?" Pony asked, "This isn't funny."

Johnny hit his knee, "That was the bees knees!" He buzzed before flying away to find pollen.

Pony started to see red, and he wanted everyone to know. "I'm starting to see red!"

Zero Sugar Shirley Temple 7-UP shook his head, still smiling. "It's called dark humor, snowflake!"

Pony started shaking. His legs and arms turned into hooves and his skin started to turn purple.

They kept laughing.

"RAWWWTRHHHHH" pony growled, showing his Fangs. "You're laughing at me, not with me!" He yelled as he trotted over to the kitchen, grabbing a knife.

They stopped laughing and looked at him in worry, exchanging concerned looks.

"What are you- what're ya doing with that knife pone?" The beefiest Curtis asked.

"Its time for a," pony paused for dramatic effect.

"Freak off."

They all screamed like AHHH and EEEK and UH OH.

He grabbed the knife, stabbing the two closest to him, who just so happened to be Steve and Sodapop. He grabbed Steve, stabbing him in the chest. Pony slid a leg out, tripping sodapop to his death

"Eeeek!" Johnny exclaimed! He died from pony pulling his stinger off.

Ponyboy soon then galloped over to Dallas, cornering him. In a corner. Pony held his weapon up. "How...mysterious"

Dallas gulped. He then dropped to the ground. Cause of death: Toxic shock from never pulling his tampon out.

Pony turned to the last remaining member of the gang, aside from himself, of course.

Darrel Shayne Curtis Jr. Tried to crawl away, to no avail. "Please" He begged, hoping for a sliver of mercy from his baby brother. "I have knee surgery tmr!"

Pony growled at him, wiggling his pointer finger in the other's face, winking. "Shawty with you."

Darrels face contorted in confusion. "Wha-" He stopped. And died.

"Womp womp."

Pony walked over, dragging all the corpses into one pile. He pulled out 6 furry suits from his closet. One for each (former) member of the gang. He then spent the rest of Christmas eve stuffing them into suits. Steve got the tiger, soda got the soda can, two bit got the monkey, Johnny got the pig, darry got the fox, and dally didn't get one cause he's a finger.

Pony walked out, but got swarmed as he stepped outside.

"Mr president!" "President Afton, what's your next course of action?" "Omg purple President!"

Taken aback by all the questions and paparazzi, he shrieked and galloped back inside.

Ponyboy sighed out in relief. "Thank goodness I didn't open a pizza parlor."

A shrill sound broke through the silence of the empty house.

"It's TIMEEEE!!" the ice around ponyboy melted as he hit the whistle note. "Shawty wit you.."

Ponyboy started levitating as he full transformed into a horse. "Hamilhorse to the rescue!!!!"

Ponyboy never did get to ease his hunger.

Heard the saying "Im so hungry i could eat a horse" and thought of this. Merry Christmas if you celebrate!!!! This was js a thought 😁🎀

You… you heard the phrase “I’m so hungry I could eat a horse” and thought of THIS?!

President afton :((

[absolutepokemontrash]

A Forgotten Birthday

Wuh oh, it looks like I forgot my own OC’s birthday. Time to write a fic to make up for it…

Warnings: None

Genre: hurt/comfort

Series Masterlist

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Venus, why are you in my office? It’s late.”

“Just waiting for something.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at his dear child, who was staring up at the clock in his study. They didn’t seem overly concerned. Their face was utterly neutral as their eyes followed the ticking of the clock.

“3…”

“Venus-“

“2…”

“What are you doing?”

“1!”

The clock struck midnight, and Venus turned to Lucifer and smiled.

“You just missed my birthday.”

And with that, Venus turned on their heel and strode right out of Lucifer’s office. As the sound of their footsteps began to fade, Lucifer blinked a few times in sheer confusion.

Missed their birthday? Lucifer had never missed Venus’ birthday, it was on April 23, and that was-

Lucifer’s eyes flitted to his calendar.

OH FUCK IT HAD BEEN THE 23RD!

Leaping out of his office chair and speeding down the hall after Venus, Lucifer felt actual sweat begin to roll down his temples. Did he seriously forget his own child’s birthday?! What kind of a father was he?!

He caught a glimpse of Venus walking down the hall to their room, and they seemed to spot him from the corner of their vision, then stopped dead in their steps.

Neither one moved, and it was at that moment that Lucifer realized he didn’t exactly have a plan for how he was going to approach this situation.

Taking a step forward, Lucifer cleared his throat. “Venus-“

At the speed of a crack of lightning, the child took off in a dead sprint. Sighing through clenched teeth, Lucifer took off after them.

“Venus Morningstar, you get back here right now!”

“NO!” Venus shouted back as they sharply turned towards their room.

The child was fast, but Lucifer was faster, and he was right on their tail. However, Venus was running on spite and prepubescent rage, and just before Lucifer could grab the back of their shirt, they twisted and dove into a side closet, slamming the door behind them.

“Go away! I'm sure you’re busy, Father.”

Lucifer let out a sigh through gritted teeth at his own stupidity, then knocked on the closet door. “Venus, come out.”

“No!”

“You literally have no other exit; how do you see this turning out for you?”

“...shut up!”

Okay, I deserve a ‘shut up’ or two… massaging his temples, Lucifer knocked again.

“Venus I… I’m sorry I forgot your birthday. I was so busy I just-”

“I don't want any of your dumb excuses!” Venus snapped, their voice muffled.

“Fine then,” Lucifer replied. “I’m sorry, Venus. Forgetting something as important as your birthday was unacceptable. How do I make this better?”

Hearing shuffling from the other side of the door, Lucifer felt his heart soar with hope for just a moment… before it was immediately dashed when he heard a thump against the still-closed door.

“I'm thinking.”

Oh. Thinking. Wonderful. Lucifer loved it when Venus used their brain.

The Avatar of Pride knew damn well his child was at least half the sadist that he was, so whatever they were going to come up with was going to be tortuous-

“I want to insult you.”

“Wh-what?”

“I want to insult you. No filter.”

Lucifer almost openly groaned. That would be hell. A nagging little voice whispered to leave it. Let Venus sulk for a while. They’d get over it. Lucifer Morningstar should not allow himself to be insulted by his own flesh and blood!

Muscling through that prideful impulse, Lucifer nodded to himself. He could take it. He wasn't some lesser pride demon who would fly into a rage over any petty insult. Besides, how bad could a couple of zingers from a child be?

“Go ahead. Do your wor-”

The door swung open, and there Venus stood, arms crossed and tapping their foot as they looked Lucifer up and down from behind the lenses of their glasses.

“You smell like absolute garbage.”

“H-hm?”

“When you pull your all-nighter on Wednesdays, you smell like garbage. I know you think it’s fine because you don’t think to shower, but no, you smell like old Demonus and sweat and everyone can tell.”

Lucifer felt blood rush to his cheeks. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea-

“And another thing, you have a lot of nerve telling me to tuck in my shirt to, and I quote ‘look presentable’. Look at your vest, old man, it’s rumpled to high hell!”

The demon’s hands instinctively moved to smooth down his vest, which he noted, was in fact quite rumpled.

“Also, it’s super annoying how much you openly you simp for Dia.”

“I do not simp for-“

“Yes you do! It’s so weird when you two give each other goo goo eyes during meetings! Like- we get it! You’re in love! GAH!” Venus threw their hands in their air as their nose wrinkled in frustration. “That stuff makes Uncle Asmo uncomfortable! Uncle Asmo. You know, the one who could make a depraved sex offender uncomfortable for funsies.”

“Okay I-“

“You also really need to look at yourself before you start calling Luke a chihuahua. You’re basically a giant chihuahua! Pot meet kettle!”

“I am not a chi-!”

“AND ANOTHER THING-“

Lucifer was seriously beginning to regret this.

“I think you’re bad at making excuses!”

“Oh really?”

“Yes!” Venus answered Lucifer’s challenge and stepped forward, their glare hardening. “Your excuse for forgetting my birthday was lame! Everyone else remembered! I thought you were just planning a surprise for me or something, but I didn’t think you actually forgot about me!”

The slight wobble in their voice was enough to break the mask of rage and show the utter betrayal that lay beneath. Lucifer felt guilt wrap around his heart and squeeze as Venus turned away, beginning to walk down the hallway towards their room.

“Like I said earlier, I’m sure you have work or something. You should do that.”

“Venus, wait.” Lucifer caught their arm and sighed again, lowering himself to their level. “I'm sorry.”

“You already said that.”

“And that means I really mean it,” Lucifer shot back. “You of all people should know how much a pride demon loathes to apologize.”

Venus let out a humourless laugh and shook their head, still not looking at Lucifer. “Sorry doesn’t make me feel better.”

“I know, and I can’t expect it to.” Lucifer continued. “You know, I did have plans for your birthday.”

“You… you did?”

“Yes.” Lucifer said with a nod as Venus sneakily tried to steal a glance at their father. “I was going to take the day off, we were going to go get ice cream and then travel up into the human world and watch a movie, then we’d go and get sushi with your ren.”

“And yet, you still forgot.”

Wincing, Lucifer nodded again. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but it wasn’t that I didn’t think it was an important day, I just… lost track of time.”

Venus let out a long, shuddering sigh and nodded. “Alright.”

“You can’t exactly blame me for one other thing about your birthday though, Venus.”

The child’s expression of sad acceptance morphed into another glare as they whirled around and almost growled at him. “And what exactly is that?”

“You can’t blame me for dreading how you’re growing up so fast,” Lucifer allowed his expression to soften as he took in his child’s stare. It morphed from anger, to an almost adorable confusion. “It seems like only yesterday you were bouncing on your toes as I gave you a tour of the House of Lamentation. You were only twelve then, hm?”

“M…mhm.”

“And now you’re older.” Lucifer tilted his head. “How could you expect me to watch my adorable child grow up and lose their chubby cheeks?”

Lucifer, faster than Venus could blink, reached over and lightly pinched their cheek. The half demon squeaked in alarm, before beginning to giggle.

“L-let go, dad! Geez! You’re so embarrassing…”

“I know, I’m terrible.”

“Mhm… damn right.” Venus’ giggles subsided, and they sighed again. “I’m tired… I shouldn’t have stayed up past midnight to send a message.”

“Well, consider your message sent. I have to wonder, did you-“

“Belphie advised me on it.”

“Of… course he did.”

Yawning, Venus turned away again, and Lucifer let go of their arm.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about this, father. I’m still angry.”

“I know,” Lucifer defeatedly replied. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

“Go to bed, father.”

“As you wish.”

As Lucifer lay in bed shortly after that exchange, he couldn’t help but wonder:

When was the last time he had gone to sleep this early?

He… really needed to fix his sleeping habits…

The sound of the door opening caused Lucifer to turn, but his sudden alertness softened when he saw who was standing in the doorway. Venus, holding a pillow in one hand and their cat in the other.

They kicked the door shut behind them and padded over to the bed, wordlessly dropping the cat down and climbing under the covers. Bean curled up on Lucifer’s chest almost immediately. Normally the cat was banned from his room, but this time… he’d have to make an exception.

Venus wrapped their arms around Lucifer’s upper arm and buried their face in his shoulder, and the demon couldn’t help but smile.

“Goodnight, Venus.”

“I’m still mad.”

Pressing a kiss to the top of their head, Lucifer then chuckled. “I know, I know.”

“Go to bed, father. That’s an order.”

The cat lightly swatted Lucifer’s nose, seemingly echoing the child’s sentiment.

“Fine. Fine.” Lucifer snapped his fingers, and the lights in his room went out, bathing the three in total darkness.

“Sleep well, Venus, and happy birthday.”

———————————

Author’s Note

Lucifer Morningstar is a stupid-ass bitch and I love him.

And I love Venus

Have a good day everyone