#queue: we are the future

[somewherebetweenrage]

when do you gaze at your soulmate

when they're dancing you're not sure if they know you're there or not. you're not sure if it matters. you watch them sway to the music, watch as they twirl around and smile for no one but themselves. they're free and laughing. they're alive and vibrant. they're everything you might never be except when you're with them. so full of life it makes something in your chest tighten. there are frown lines at the corners of your mouth but your lips are smiling right now. rare. and often, only for them. they have light in their hearts and some days you fear the darkness in you might swallow it whole. but they'd never let you walk away. so make sure the darkness inside you keeps all the other monsters away from their tender heart.

tagged by: @sioraiocht <3

tagging: @sioraiocht (Peter) , @defectivexfragmented (Bucky, if you haven't already) , @acertainfemininemystique , @survivorofhellskitchen , @wcrriorhearts & anyone else who wants <3

[sartorially]

plzzzzzZZZ draw super tall kanaya

Dave is there to do the Midwestern Dad Looking At Bad Weather pose & snap selfies.

[tiddygame]

used to, ghost would always sleep on his side facing the door with his back almost pressed to the wall. in a room where the bed isn't in the corner? he'd either move the bed or sleep on the floor in the corner.

it doesn't take long for soap to figure out his lieutenant's sleep pattern and does his best to quietly help. the first time they have to share a bed (obvi before they're together cause this is fanfic, how else would it go) neither is really sure what to do.

the bed is in the corner, but during the typical "who takes the bed, alright fine we both will" argument, they come to an impasse. neither will let the other take the floor nor do they know the best way for both to be on the bed. either ghost has someone in the way of him and the door, or has someone at his back that he can't see.

they do eventually land on (without discussion bc ghost is a prideful bastard) soap taking the wall side, but ghost is still nervous. he surprises himself by being much more comfortable than he thought he would, it feeling less like there's a stranger right behind him and more like soap is watching his back for him, even though he knows soap is asleep. ghost himself doesn't really sleep, but that is to be expected.

something something they get together and ghost realizes he's most comfortable knowing soap is there, not to protect him cause he's still to prideful for that, but to help watch his blind spot without having to push himself against the wall.

(also ghost likes being the little spoon. hmm? what? who said that...)

[somewherebetweenrage]

Face muscles relax into a genuine smile. Wanda’s insistence that she is happy for him, that she isn’t pretending just to protect him, reminds him how good she is. Had anyone been brave enough to tell him, in the days after Nina’s death, that they were expecting a child, he would not have been able to find it in himself to be pleased for them. He wouldn’t have wanted to – wouldn’t even have tried. Erik has always loved too selfishly, too fiercely, to care about another’s joy when he is grieving. But somehow Wanda is able to find it within herself to do what her father cannot; his daughter is a better person than he could ever be.

'You deserve a happy end, just like everyone else.' Except for her. Wanda’s happy ending was nothing but intangible smoke. She will need to keep waiting.

Wordlessly, the mutant rises from his chair, only to pick it up by the polished back and deposit it closer to Wanda. He seats himself again, and reaches out an arm to wrap it around his daughter’s shoulders. The hug is a little stiff, and a little awkward, but far less so than the ones they shared in the early days of getting to know each other. Erik has grown more used to physical affection, especially in recent years with Laga, and on this occasion had little difficulty giving into the impulse to hold his daughter close. Her warmth is a reminder that she is alive, and she is here.

When he speaks, his voice is low. “I missed you, in the years you were gone.” An attempt to convey just how lost he was after she died; a reminder that she is loved, and that the baby won’t change that. She will always be precious to him.

somewherebetweenrage​:

   Her reaction is not a surprise – in fact considering her recent grief, Wanda appears far more composed than Erik when he was first told. He is grateful for that, even if uncertainty rests on her shoulders and curls at her mouth, even as she congratulates him without quite meaning the words she speaks. This is not a situation the mutant ever expected to find himself in, one his long life and extensive experience of joy and sorrow has not prepared him to deal with. All he can do is be honest, and hope that his eldest daughter feels able to do the same. It doesn’t exactly help that the thought of being a father again terrifies him.

   “Schatz.” Lovingly firm, tone a reminder that he understands her better than she might believe. “You do not have to feign happiness for me.” He reaches for her hand, wanting the reassurance physical touch brings – though of course he won’t force the contact if she doesn’t want it. “It is a lot to comprehend, I know; this baby was not exactly planned.” Some might consider such information too private to be shared, but Erik needs Wanda to understand that he is not looking to replace her, or Pietro, or Nina: that this baby is not a do-over, or an attempt to create the ideal family that has so far eluded him. This baby is nothing short of an accident, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t wanted, isn’t loved. He only hopes that, in time, Wanda can learn to love her half-sibling too.

To hear that her father’s newest child was not planned almost makes Wanda laugh, because apparently that is a common trait all of his offspring have. From what she has gathered, all three of them were accidents, though she knows Erik would have taken care of them, had he known of Pietro and her earlier. No matter what mistakes he makes, he owns up to them and he has made up for his absence since finding her. It is an uncomfortable timing, given what Wanda has gone through only recently, but that is no fault of his. She has never expected anyone to put their lives on hold, just because she is suffering. Her whole life has been nothing but, so there is no way for anyone to tiptoe around that sufficiently.

In all honesty, Wanda doesn’t know how to be a sister anymore. She doesn’t know how to love a sibling, because there was only ever Pietro for her. He was her whole world for the majority of her life and the idea of having to make room for someone else in that place of her heart that was formerly inhabited by him is impossible to imagine. But luckily it isn’t something she’ll have to figure out today. “If you think that was me feigning anything, you know me little”, she huffs, but not without smiling a little, shaking her head. “I am happy for you. It’s a good thing, just not exactly what I had expected to find out today. But you deserve a happy end, just like everyone else.” And he does, there is absolutely no doubt about that. Her father has suffered enough and if he has been given a second chance with Lagertha, Wanda is the last person who will not be happy for him.

[bogkeep]

me: i don't think i'm That stressed??? like i know there's a lot going on but i feel pretty chill about it tbh

me: hits queued post limit from scrolling tumblr as an anxiety response

me: can't seem to get enough sleep

me: goes to the ER to check on concerning symptoms that turn out to be psychosomatic

me:

me: ok maybe a teensy bit stressed

[raineandsky]

#115

The villain slips out of sight, and civilians crowd the hero before they can think to follow. Several microphones materialise half an inch from their face.

“What does it mean for the city when villains get away like this?”

“Why is this villain so difficult to catch?”

“[Hero], this way!”

“[Hero]!”

They can see one reporter elbowing his way to the front of the crowd. He nudges his glasses up his nose awkwardly, a clipboard in one hand and a voice recorder in the other. He looks like an old school nerd, in a way.

He manages to wrestle his way to the front of the mob, miraculously. The hero isn’t convinced even they could do that. He clears his throat, adjusts his shirt against his neck, and presses a button on his recorder.

“What are your relations to [Villain]?”

The hero could’ve not spotted him and it would’ve been the loudest question of them all. Their gaze snaps to him traitorously before they can stop themself. He stands there expectantly, his voice recorder raised slightly towards them.

“My relation to them is that they’re a criminal,” they say carefully, a response well-practised, “and I am the person who will put them behind bars.”

That prompts a flurry of more questions, but the hero can only watch this one reporter. He nods, and they’re not sure if he’s trained to stay neutral or if he doesn’t believe them. Their stomach flips uncertainly.

“Can you really be the one to put them away if they keep evading you?”

The hero wants to smite him where he stands. They try to force a confident smile that probably looks more pained. “Then the victory will be all the sweeter when I finally catch them.”

“Are you helping them?”

There it is. The other reporters go quiet, curious. The hero’s aware they probably look like a cornered animal, but they can explain that away later. They were worried that the masses are losing faith in them, perhaps. They can throw a speech together tonight.

“Why would I be helping a criminal, sorry?”

“I’ve done some of my own research.” The reporter pushes his glasses up again as he looks down at his clipboard. “The villain’s getaway car looks alarmingly similar to yours.”

Another flip. Would it be bad to claim they have somewhere to be? They don’t have any answers prepared for this. The reporter’s watching them with an intensity that’s making them feel sick. Avoiding the question is worse, surely.

“It’s not my fault if [Villain] has impeccable taste.” They glance out over the sea of people, trying to seem distracted. Fuck it. Time to go. “Look, guys, I’ll answer everyone’s questions when I’m not actively chasing a criminal. Job first, interviews second.”

The hero flees like the fury of god is chasing them. They can feel eyes on them as they go, that little pain in the ass watching them the most intently.

They practically throw themself into their car, slamming the door like it’ll hide them from the outside. “Took you long enough,” the villain says from the backseat.

“Reporters,” the hero explains shortly. The villain hums thoughtfully.

“Always is.” The villain sighs, tearing their gaze from their phone and up to the hero. “What’s this week’s conspiracy?”

The hero turns the car on to ignore the question for a moment. “They think I’m working with you.”

The villain barks a laugh at that. “Can you imagine?” Their eyes turn back down to their phone amusedly. “A’ight, let’s get outta here.”

Gladly. The hero pulls out of the little alleyway, checking the streets for reporters, unexpectedly nervous, and onto the road. They always take the back roads like this. They don’t need any more reason for people to get suspicious. One reporter putting the thought in people’s heads is enough.

“Don’t get any ideas, by the way,” the villain pipes up after a bout of silence. The hero was quite content to listen to the rumble of the engine all the way back. “You work for me, not with me. Let’s keep it that way.”

The hero nods. The less they have at stake in this stupid little charade, the easier it’ll be to get the hell out at the first opportunity anyway.

[loonyloopylupin96]

[written 2012, rediscovered 2025]

[andrastes-cheeks]

He’s sick and he’s tired BUT he is serving

[b4kuch1n]

post-drive sketch commissions fulfilled so far! for Cookie Nomie, A. Peake, @azaelyas, viviiyon on twitter, bxby_ashhh on twitter, tsunesama, @trucbiduleschouettes, and Anna.

[somewherebetweenrage]

Somehow, in the brief moment where he left his fears behind and rushed to his lover’s side, Erik had forgotten to bring a towel to wipe up the growing pool of water. A scowl at himself for his idiocy, and the mutant practically launches himself across the room back towards the pile of clean towels. Come on Lehnsherr, get a grip. You’re supposed to be helping here. He kneels on the floor to clean up the mess, keeping an eye on Laga from the corner of his eye as he thoroughly mops up the wetness and dries the wooden boards.

“Everything’s ready, don’t worry.” He rises from ageing knees, tossing the dirty towel in an empty basket left out for just such a purpose, and turns his gaze towards the supplies neatly lined up on the drawers by the wall. A collection of clean towels, cloths, sheets and blankets, soap and rubbing alcohol, scissors and string, and two metal bowls with water in. With all of that, the two extra buckets of water and the glass of water for Lagertha to drink (plus painkillers, just in case), he thinks they’re prepared for anything short of a medical emergency – which is what his phone, currently on his bedside table, is for. “Well, almost ready,” – mutation reaches out to the metal buckets and bowls, beginning to gently vibrate the steel to warm the water.

Bare feet step forward, intending to return to Lagertha’s side, but the pained look on her face propels him past her to the pile of supplies, reaching out for the soap and one bucket of warm water to wash his hands thoroughly all the way up to the elbows, then coat them with the rubbing alcohol. Once dry, he heaps towels and clothes high in his arms and returns to the bed, setting the pile down and crouching in front of his partner.

Erik offers her one calloused hand, to grip however she sees fit. “Is this the position you want to be in?” He has no idea how capable of speech or making decisions Laga is right now, but knows he needs to make sure she’s as comfortable as she can be, which includes supporting her in her chosen position. Magda had birthed Nina from a crouching position, half leaning on the bed and half on him, the midwife kneeling in front of them to catch the baby’s slippery weight when it finally made an appearance. There is no midwife here today to catch the baby; that role, like every other one except the most important, falls to Erik, and he has no intention of letting his family down.

somewherebetweenrage​

   Erik doesn’t object to being told that now is not the time to discuss baby names; he knows he has no real idea of the pain Laga is going through already, nevermind the pain still to come ( - all he knows is that the crescent shaped nail-marks Madga had left on his arms during Nina’s birth had lasted for days). Instead he releases his hold on her when she rises, gaze gentle and attentive as his lover, the mother of his child, begins to pace the room. He remembers this stage from previous births – remembers the encouragement from midwives and healers to move about, to help with the pain and encourage the baby along.

   If he could, he would pace the room with her, close at her side – but one look from the Asgardian is enough to tell him to stay put and wait. Wait until the sound of his name pulls him from his own thoughts, turning to see Lagetha bracing herself against the window sill, a wet patch slowly forming at her feet: ‘…the baby is coming, like, now’.

   All fear evaporates in an instant, as if the mutant leaves it behind him when he rises from the bed and crosses the room, bare feet against polished boards, stopping when he reaches his lover’s side. There is no worry anymore, no expectation that something will go wrong because something always goes wrong: there is only Lagertha, and the baby soon to enter this world.

   One hand gentle on her lower back, wetness slowly spreading to his own exposed feet, Erik offers out his hand for his partner to take hold of if she wants. “I’m here – whatever you need, I’m here.”

She tries to be methodical in her thinking, even though the pain is rather distracting. “A towel”, she tells Erik, when he joins her by the window, knowing they can hardly leave the puddle on the floor until later. They will also need towels soon for everything else, so it will be good to have them at hand. There are probably a million other things she should be thinking of that need to be done, but she cannot focus. Luckily Erik isn’t entirely inexperienced and can hopefully figure everything out as they go. Even though each birth is taxing, it’s not rocket science and everyone knows the basics of it, at least. Given she has done this four times already, none of it catches her by surprise and she knows what steps will come next.

While Erik retrieves the towels and hopefully cleans up the mess, she moves over to their bed and sits on the edge of it, not quite willing to commit to lying down. It’s not the most beneficial position, nor is it comfortable for the most part, so she always prefers being upright, rather than laying flat on her back. That way gravity helps and eases the effort. Her hand runs over the swell of her stomach as the muscles tense with another contraction and she notices that there is barely any break between them anymore. 

“Whatever we need to get ready, we have to do it now”, she says in Erik’s direction between gritted teeth, not entirely sure what she means with that, because he is the one who has planned what accessories they’ll need. She’s used to not having more than a towel or two and maybe hot water, if they’re lucky. Earth has a lot more to offer and she doesn’t doubt Erik has made use of that in one way or another. She tries to fight the urge to push, until everything has been set up, but it is futile, so she just lets her body do what it must. Hopefully this one will come fast and without fuss, like most of his or her siblings. 

[spockvarietyhour]

Fringe "The Day We Died"

Bonus, a standalone reaction:

[not-poignant]

The latest UtR update on AO3 got me hooked and I could no longer constrain myself and had to read the other chapters on Patreon. Now I need to know: does Lucien have any redeeming character traits in the series or can I add him straight to the list of characters that deserve the worst? That attitude of his towards Faber made me so mad lmao

Hi anon!

This actually reminds me of the ask I got recently about how awful Augus is as a character and how it's impossible to consider him through a positive light after reading Falling Falling Stars. Because that's how he seems if you've never read him in anything else of mine!

My narrators are unreliable, anon. We only ever see Lucien very briefly through the jealous eyes of an insecure man.

(Spoilers for a future brief verbal encounter between Lucien and Faber in Underline the Red).

Lucien is an extremely vulnerable omega who is in an institution that has temporary custody of him. They control what he eats, what he does, whether he leaves or not (i.e. he's functionally imprisoned), who fucks him, if he gets to see anyone else, if he can talk to his partner and family back home and how often. He has significant psychiatric issues around his own insecurities re: jealously and his partner, and he clocks Faber as being in love with Caleb, and he's right.

And that's incredibly unethical of Faber, honestly, to not have disclosed any of this to Dr Gary (like Dr Gary will be right to consider firing him over this in the future). It puts Lucien's mental health in direct and severe jeopardy, and is ironically likely what causes his relapse that causes Caleb to suggest domestic discipline in the first place (oh, Faber, the irony).

Because Lucien's there to learn that actually a lot of his jealousy and insecurity is unfounded. Instead, he learns the opposite, that no matter who he bonds with, someone else is there loving his potential partner while he perceives himself as having very little control (and in the case of Hillview - this is true, all he has are his words).

He's a chronically disabled omega who needs a disability aid (walking stick) to get around, he's a second class citizen, he's agreed with his partner to stay at Hillview because they both recognise how sick he's getting.

Faber is not a mental health patient/omega like Lucien is. He's a staff member who is nursing unrequited loved to an alpha companion, that he's refused to disclose, while still interacting with Caleb and his omegas. Imho, while Lucien is very good at lashing out, he's not wrong to, and that's why Faber fully acknowledges what Lucien is saying and listens to him, and basically never interacts with him again, and avoids Caleb where possible.

Lucien's mean about it, but Lucien is right re: Faber trying to hide his feelings because he knows what will happen if people find out, and that it's also wrong/unfair to put Lucien in that position.

And Faber knows that.

So yeah. The reader is meant to hate Lucien on a surface level, in the same way that Faber does.

But consider that Faber also sometimes seems to hate all omegas. He finds the smell of their heats disgusting. It's actually pretty normal for people to go through a phase of rejecting the thing that they are, if that's something hated in society. Faber's oscillating mixed feelings of bitterness, resentment and cutting attitude is actually mirrored in Lucien.

Faber has thought extremely savage, scathing and unforgiving things himself to the people around him (and himself). Lucien responds to Faber like Faber is an omega (something Faber doesn't recognise yet), because Faber...kind of acts like one in moments like that. (Efnisien also picks up on this, Faber is not great to him in the beginning of Underline the Black, in a very specific way designed for Efnisien to pick up on, and for Gary to miss. Faber behaves jealously, and constantly suggests to Gary that he should get rid of Efnisien, before he finally adjusts to the absence of Gary in his life. Faber is possessive and manipulative!)

Lucien ultimately doesn't need any redeeming characteristics because he's a victim who is at Hillview to heal and Faber is jeopardising that. We can hate him, but that's just the fact. He didn't try to kill Kadek when he arrived at Hillview, he hasn't tried to destroy memories of James, things Efnisien has done even though we love him all the same (ideally). Lucien felt understandably jealous/insecure (literally the thing he's at Hillview to be treated for, safe from people who will be in love with his lover until Faber) and he lashed out meanly.

If a staff member of Hillview can't handle some rude words, they shouldn't work there.

But yeah, I like the Lucien and Faber encounter because they are both extremely similar people in some ways. They are both bitter, jealous, resentful people capable of very scathing thoughts (and words). The only difference is that in that moment, Faber is the recipient and we feel bad for him. I mean, I do feel bad for him. Faber is in a bad place psychologically, it's a horrible thing for him to experience.

If we were getting Lucien's story from his perspective, and saw the panic attacks he had afterwards, and the regression he went through, etc. it might be different. But it doesn't have to be! Lucien in that moment functions as a reality check for Faber, and a very effective one at that. We're meant to hate him, but also meant to understand that Faber's love for Caleb is not as subtle as he thinks it is in the sense that - omegas can see it for what it is.

I personally like the one moment where we see that Lucien might have a heart when Faber admits his parents are dead, and we can see that he doesn't react with savage satisfaction, but like Faber broke the narrative he'd built for himself in his own insecure, jealous, scared mind.

[somewherebetweenrage]

slightly mad about my tag situation let's see if this at least makes them easy to find

[somewherebetweenrage]

Erik has never been good at hiding his emotions. His thoughts? Easy. His plans? No problem. But there is something about his feelings, especially when it comes to his people, or his loved ones, that demands attention and action. Selene would call it inconvenient, at best – as a telepath, her thoughts and emotions remain a closed book to most – but for Erik it’s all he’s ever known. He wouldn’t be surprised if his feelings about the experiment, and this whole situation, are currently written all over his face.

Grey-blue eyes follow the movement of the folder and the exposure of the files within, but thoughts remain fixed on her words. ‘This has to be stopped.’ Not the usual standpoint of a journalist, in his experience; those he’s met have always been focused on knowing every excruciating detail and sharing it with the world. Up until now he’d considered all journalists to be the same… but maybe that isn’t the case.

Against his better judgement, he reaches for one of the files, flicking it open and thumbing through the pages. Copies of accounts – both suppliers and customers for the Greenville facility – are laid out before him. Thorough, and with meticulous notes about each organisation, the information easily rivals what Psylocke’s network has been able to obtain. Hell, it might even be better. Wordlessly, the mutant plucks another one of the files out of the journalist’s hands to investigate. This one contains employee records – data Selene had wiped from the computer systems the day they shut the facility down, but which is apparently still available for anyone skilled enough to find it. And Karen Page, it seems, is most definitely skilled enough.

“Why do you care about all this?” Gaze lifts to hers, eyes shrewd, assessing: if she attempts to lie, he’d like to think that he’ll know.

somewherebetweenrage​:

survivorofhellskitchen​:

   In spite of his alertness, it doesn’t cross Erik’s mind that the woman might be here for him until their eyes lock and she slowly begins to approach. Blue-grey eyes narrow, assessing. Her steps are unsure, nervous – as if she doesn’t really want to be here, or is here in spite of herself. Dark purse conceals the cold steel of a small pistol, loaded and smooth from being handled – apparently the only weapon she carries, which would explain why she grips the fabric so tightly. The woman is afraid. (Considering who Erik is, is that any surprise?) Or else it’s all an act.

   A journalist. He’s been pestered by journalists before, shouting stupid questions at him across the street, each and every one far too young to remember even the incident with Apocalypse, never mind anything further back. Some of them are brazen, imagining their notebook or dictaphone might somehow keep them safe, while others have been quaking in their boots, only there because their boss demanded it. By now, Erik has lost count of the restraining orders against journalists that he’s accrued. He will tell this woman what he told all those who came before her.

   “I don’t talk to journalists.” A fresh glass of whiskey is set on the table by the curious bartender, Erik thanking him with a nod of his head before the man retreats to his usual place behind the bar – from where he will probably eavesdrop to ensure there’s no trouble. The mutant’s gaze drops to the pale folder in front of him, information apparently freely offered, though Erik knows journalists well enough to know that nothing is ever free. He sips at the amber liquid, just a small taste, before speaking again. “And I already know about the experiment in Greenville.”

The blonde isn’t surprised by his answer, and frankly it’s one she gets fairly often.  Journalists, well, they could be a pain in the ass.  She knew that first hand.  But this was bigger than just some run of the mill gossip bullshit.  This was about morality.  About a code.  She couldn’t let this just sit.  The experiments, they needed to be exposed- needed to be stopped, and right now Erik was her only shot at getting her piece to land…her only shot to try and put an end to this.

“I’m sure you don’t, but Mr. Lehnsherr, I’m not here to write a piece about you…or your past.  I’m here specifically about the experiment.  I-I have no doubt you know what’s going on, some of it wasn’t too hard to find or dig up, but there are still pieces that need to be uncovered.  This…this has to be stopped…a-and I have a feeling you believe the same.”   The blonde pauses then reaches for the folder, pulling out a few of the files inside. 

“I have a lead…I have an idea about who is running this, but I can’t specifically get to a name o-or why he’s doing this.  I’ve heard whispers, but nothing that can be confirmed.  And I…I need your help to do that.  I need your help to get close.”

[error404vnotfound]

i actually would recommend people write to their future self. doesn't matter if it's 6 months or a year (or 5 or 10), reading where you were at in the past and what you were feeling and thinking is a very healing experience. it's obviously positive when you've got over shit, or healed from a bad moment in your life, but it's also surprisingly comforting when things have stayed as bad or gotten worse, because you have the knowledge that you aren't alone, you got yourself. and having perspective of your life from the 6 months that followed that message makes yourself want to do good things for future-6-month-older-you

[brattylikestoeat]

.