#i own a radio and use it regularly

[nickbutnodick]

see i like pretending ive never heard of a newspaper before to piss off millenials on tumblr

[earlgraytay]

So, you've probably all seen this post going around, about how The Chuds Want Gentleman's Clubs (but can't afford to go to the things called "gentlemen's clubs" today, so wouldn't have been able to in the past either). And I hate to say it, but that post isn't accurate.

The things we call "gentlemen's clubs" today and the things that were called "gentleman's clubs" in the past are not the same thing; the one is descended from the other, but they used to be a lot more common and served a purpose that they don't really serve anymore.

The modern equivalent of the historical gentleman's club isn't the thing currently called a gentleman's club; it's the premium airport lounge. And by losing the concept for all but the turbo-rich, I think we genuinely have lost something! Let me explain.

(NOTA BENE: This is mostly about England and from about 1880-1930, and most of my experience with this is from fiction written in that era. I know enough to know what I don't know, but I also know menswear guy is wrong about this.)

So- gentlemen's clubs started in *wiggles hands* the late 1700s, and mostly served a particular purpose: they were places you could stay in a city if you mostly lived in the country, instead of staying in lodgings or owning your own place. Finding a place to stay in London was kind of a misery at the best of times, and owning your own house in Town wasn't practical for a lot of people, even rich people. If you were, say, a young man, just starting out in life, and you hadn't inherited your father's wealth but also weren't set up to live on your own? Having a place you were guaranteed to be able to stay was a fucking godsend. And as time went on, even people who lived in London most of the time started joining clubs, because they served another important purpose- they were a place you could go if you didn't particularly want to be at home, for whatever reason.

The way that historical gentlemen's clubs worked is, you got recommended to the club by a friend who was a member, you paid dues to the club, and in exchange, you'd get to use the club's facilities. * Most gentlemen's clubs had, at minimum, a dining room (with waitstaff, natch), a library, a couple of nice places to sit and hang out, a game room, and a bar. Many of them also had rooms you could sleep in overnight, fitness equipment, or stuff related to the club members' interests. Most of them had a room or two where you could invite friends who weren't part of your club and spend time with them. In the era where phones were a thing, a lot of them had a phone. You could write letters there and get your mail sent there.

Here's the thing: in the period I know best, gentlemen's clubs weren't just for the turbo-rich. They were the province of rich guys, yes- you had to be a 'gentleman' and know the right people to get in. But men who were doctor/lawyer/software-developer rich were most likely members of a gentlemen's club. Anyone who was rich enough to travel regularly was part of at least one club, because having somewhere to crash when you were going between (say) London and Delhi and back again was worth the cost.

Most gentlemen's clubs were owned by their members- not an outside corporate body. The club leaders were elected, usually by a small committee.

And a lot of gentlemen's clubs founded around specific interests, as time went on. There were gentlemen's clubs specifically for Guys Who Were Really Into Radio. There were clubs specifically for men who spent a lot of time traveling. There were clubs specifically for dudes who wanted to talk your ear off and clubs for old dudes who mostly wanted to nod off in their chairs and talk about The War and clubs for dudes who did not want to be percieved at all.

There were clubs for men who were really into science, or the arts, or sports. And one perk of being in a club like this is that you had access to equipment that you might not have been able to buy on your own. You didn't have to shell out for an entire library of scientific and medical books; you could go to your club and read in the library there. If your club had, say, an art studio, you could go paint at your club and not have to keep a studio space of your own.

There were gentlemen's clubs specifically oriented around specific political or social views. There were socialist clubs. (And a lot of them admitted women, which was !!!SCANDALOUS!!!) Like, they were still the province of goddamn rich people, there were a lot of trust fund baby socialists and not many working people, but there were socialist social clubs.

...I don't want to pretend that gentlemen's clubs were some kind of idyllic haven. 99% of these clubs were For Men, and For The Right Sort Of Men at that; if you didn't have a friend who was a member, or you weren't "respectable" enough, you didn't get to join. There's a reason that most of these clubs are gone now. Part of the point was excluding the Wrong Sort of People, and that became gauche over time. After a certain point, being part of a club became a thing for stodgy, out-of-touch rich men- not just "men who happened to have enough money to be part of a club"- and so most of the men who could join one didn't, and people stopped forming new ones. Only Old Money assholes (who will continue to do what they've always done, current trends be damned) keep the concept alive.

But like... the thing that replaced gentlemen's clubs for 99% of the people who would have had one a hundred years ago... is the premium airport lounge, and the premium gym membership, and the ~coworking hub~.** Anyone can join, yeah, as long as they're able to pay. You pay a corporation a chunk of money for similar amenities, and the amenities are ... fine? But because the entity is driven by profit, most of the money you're paying them goes into running their other business concerns and paying their CEOs a fat paycheck.

I think... as exclusionary as gentlemen's clubs were back in the day, there's the seed of a good idea there. I think the guys who wish they were still an attainable thing for a middle-class person have a point, and I wish we could inject some fucking nuance into this conversation.

A community-owned space that gives you a place to crash when you need one, has community-owned resources for its members, and isn't beholden to a corporation is a good thing. Third spaces that don't have to turn a profit are a damn good thing.

At the end of the day, my politics are 'everyone should get to have the kind of luxuries that were historically reserved for the rich'. Everyone should get to have the best life has to offer- leisure, beauty, good craftsmanship, and community. And so, you know, if this kind of community space sounds like a thing you'd like to have, maybe it's something you could work towards creating, too.

*TBF, this is still how they work today! But the networks are much smaller.

**I do find it very funny that apparently one of the biggest problems facing the few remaining Actual Gentlemen's Clubs (TM) is that people are trying to use their space to telework-- a lot of them are trying to ban laptops and business talk to "keep the club's character" (read: "we're too rich to have to work here").

[leyavo]

Wife/girlfriend series, Ghost, Price and Gaz already done. Soap’s around 26 years old and more interested in progressing in his career. So I don’t think he’d be married, but would have a girlfriend…. [Wife/Gf masterlist]

Soap’s girlfriend is wild.

You’re few years younger than Johnny and making the most of your youth whilst you can. He likes that things are fun and not too serious. You’re always scratching that itch, trying new things out and pushing him to play more.

Play electric guitar in a band, every Friday night, rock night at a pub which promotes independent artists. Johnny met you when he went there on the off chance, you jumping down the platform after your set and kissing him. Johnny thinks the lead singers a little prick.

Started as a fuck it and see relationship (where he called whenever he was home and you had sex). Turned into you staying longer each morning to cuddle him instead of rushing out straight after.

There was just something that pulled the two of you back together. The back and forth messaging whilst he was away, filled with nonsense but fun nonetheless.

Sending him videos of you dancing in the nightclub and taking shots on the weekend whilst he’s away working. A pic of your breasts in a push bra and a little black dress.

“Fuckin’ hells bells,” he mumbles to himself as your video blares through his phone speaker (he’s always forgetting to turn the volume down). Gaz and ghost glaring at him as they pick their own personal items up after a long mission.

He replies instantly, but doesn’t get anything in return for hours. Just you sending a pic of yourself hungover in bed with your best friend.

You always meet him at the train station or airport. Waiting for him, running and jumping into his arms.

Dragging Johnny to rock festivals in the summer when he’s home. Making him mixtapes of your favourite bands so he can listen to it back at the base.

You work part-time at a tattoo studio doing piercings. Pierced Johnny’s eyebrow once and pouted when he had to remove it to go back to work. Also have random temp jobs here and there.

Johnny can’t believe the stuff that comes out of your mouth, even he wouldn’t say half of it.

“I would’na say tha’ lass.”

“Well I bet you’ll be using that line on your little radio with the boys.”

Constantly teasing him about being a serious military man. Even more so when a guy gets a bit too comfortable with you. Whenever you go out you’re never on time and he’s telling you down to the minute how long it’s been since you were supposed to leave.

“what’s that drop and give me twenty?” You shout back. Johnny stomping into your room and diving over the bed to get you. Mock saluting him as he’s got you cornered, as if that’s going to make up for it.

“Drop and give me somethin’ else.”

Love to play fight, but you’re still mad at Johnny for breaking your lava lamp that you bring it up all the time. You also bite him to get out of his hold, a scar on his bicep where your teeth sunk a little too deep.

When you finally move in together it’s chaotic, Johnny’s got a set routine and you just follow whatever mood you feel.

Loves hearing you play the acoustic guitar in the apartment, laying on the carpet in the living room whilst you sit and play. The scratch of your pen on paper as you create something new. Sunlight warm on his face, eyes closed as he listens to you humming along. Finds your guitar picks everywhere, even in his wash bag when he opens it at work.

Lazy Sundays are his favourite, your hand tracing the side of his shaved head as you hum.

Understanding about Johnny’s need to check the security regularly in the apartment and reminding you to keep your location on. Likes how you reassure him that he’s safe, those seconds when he wakes from a night terror and the weight of your hand on his, grounding him. Your scent comforting him as he rests his head on your stomach. Words whispered of all the things you used to be afraid of as a kid, silly little things to make him laugh.

“You know I think I was actually scared of my shadow.”

FaceTiming him to ask his opinion on your outfit for a night out. Johnny saying it’s not quite you, only so he can watch you change out of your clothes again.

“I have nothing to wear.” Your camera panning to the mess in the bedroom. The piles of clothes strewn over the floor and bed.

“Just stay, talk to me.” Johnny’s plan to keep you on the call working quicker than he thought. Leads to phone sex.

Johnny gets you a guitar that your dad used to have, your dad passed away years ago. Even down to the red embroidered guitar strap attached to it, so alike the one in the photograph of your dad teaching you to place as a kid. You try to teach Johnny how to play too, but he’s too distracted by how soft your voice is and the way you move his fingers each time. Distracted with how soft you are with him.

You’re not as scared of certain things, Johnny showing you that you can be strong on your own. Scared to drive after what happened to your dad. Johnny even taught you how to drive and now you can go anywhere, including visiting him at the army base.

When you meet the rest of TF141 guys you and Johnny are having a hot make out session on the sofa of the residential house at the base which they all live in. Thankfully it hadn’t escalated from just his tongue in your mouth, but you didn’t let it bother you as climbed off Johnny’s lap and greeted them.

You end up staying in and playing poker with the guys. Trading cigars, coins and anything you could find in your pockets. Price loses all his cigars to you, but you give the guys one each so you can smoke on the patio at 3am. Simon talking to you about an obscure rock band that isn’t really mainstream and you trade stories about some concerts he went to when he was teen. Gaz asks you if he can still use earrings even when he hasn’t for over a decade, which you repierce for him. Price telling you that you have a good one in there, his head nudging over his shoulder to Johnny in the house as you finish off your cigars.

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Jeff Pescetto - DuckTales 1987

DuckTales is an American animated television series produced by Walt Disney Television Animation, and ran for a total of 100 episodes over four seasons. Based upon Uncle Scrooge and other Duck universe comic books created by Carl Barks, the show follows Scrooge McDuck, his three grandnephews Huey, Dewey, and Louie, and close friends of the group, on various adventures, most of which either involve seeking out treasure or thwarting the efforts of villains seeking to steal Scrooge's fortune or his Number One Dime. DuckTales aired in more than 100 countries in 25 different languages. It was the first American cartoon broadcast in the former Soviet Union after the Cold War. In Hungary, those born in the early-to-mid 80s are known as "the DuckTales generation".

The DuckTales Theme was written and composed by Mark Mueller, an ASCAP award-winning pop music songwriter, and sung by Jeff Pescetto. For DuckTales the Movie: Treasure of the Lost Lamp, a longer instrumental version of the song was created. For the 2017 revival, Mueller re-arranged the music and lyrics slightly, and the song was re-recorded by Felicia Barton. Disney was looking for a theme song for their new animated series, and wanted a sense of adventure and excitement, a tune that would complement the technicolor energy of the show itself. Most importantly, Disney's music executives explained, they were after a poppy, radio song - not a "cartoon song". Mueller's agent recommended that he shouldn't get his hopes up, but luckily, he had just scored his first hit; Heart's "Nothin’ at All". It was on the strength, and airplay, of that track, that he was able to obtain a meeting with Disney. Mueller was paid "a whopping $1,250" for the song, he says. "And that was only if Disney used the song on the show and it actually aired. Which, fortunately, it did."

Mueller is regularly astonished by the pervasiveness of his own creation. "When people find out what I do for a living, they’ll always ask if they'd know one of my songs," he says. "Sometimes they won't know my pop hits." (For one, Mueller co-wrote Jennifer Paige's 1998 hit "Crush".) "But almost everywhere I've gone, people know DuckTales. The reach of it is so mind-blowing." Jeff Pescetto, the theme's original singer, has said; "I was playing with my band at a club. A group of guys from England walked up and said, 'We heard your voice and knew right away that it was the guy who sings the DuckTales theme song.' They were so excited to meet me. I just couldn't believe they recognized my voice."

"DuckTales" received a total of 87,9% yes votes!

[yourobedientserpent]

23 ain't what it used to be

One of the fun things about My Adventures with Superman is that it SEEMS like they've de-aged the core cast, but Clark is 22-23 years old, Jimmy is by implication the same age, and Lois might be a year older.

That's about the same age that Clark and Lois were way back when Superman originally debuted.* (Jimmy, of course, got aged up by about a decade.)

It's just that in 1938, a 22-year-old was assumed to be An Adult With A Real Job that probably didn't require a college degree, and in 2023, a 22-year-old is A Kid Fresh Out of College Working An Unpaid Internship.**

In 1938, a 22-year-old professional would probably have his own shitty-to-modest apartment. In 2023, a 22-year-old intern would have to split a studio apartment and sleep in a bunk bed.

And, yes, it's worth remembering that 1938 was The Great Depression.

*(The early episodes of the radio show regularly refer to Clark as "the young man.")

**(I don't think Perry would expect the Trio to do scutwork around the office for nothing, but those intern slots probably don't get much more than a minimal stipend.)

[tayraedoll]

Radio Daddy

My entry for @6esiree contest! I hope you enjoy this little story!

18+ MDNI

This is my take on what the dynamic between Alastor and a Gen Z radio host would be like. A little bit of rivalry, a little bit of sexual tension, and a lot of attitude.

Word count: 2979

TW: Smut, P in V Intercourse, Oral (male receiving), Rough s3x, soul deals, swearing, Alastor is a bit mean, but reader likes it

"...and that is why Hell would be better off as a matriarchy", you spoke into your mic. It had been a long four hours of broadcasting, you were exhausted and definitely looking forward to dinner by this point. But you also loved the studio, the freedom of creating your own show and speaking your mind, and the power to sway the masses that listened.

"Don't forget- I will be DJing at the Hazbin Hotel Grand Re-Opening tomorrow night! It's sure to be lit so stop by and have a drink with me. Until next time, stay gucci my friends!"

You signed off and leaned back in your chair, closing your eyes and taking a moment to relax. The tranquility didn't last long however, before you had a chance to take a breath you heard the telltale radio static of your boss- Alastor The Radio Demon. You sigh before opening your eyes and turning to the futon in the corner of your recording studio.

You arrived in hell 2.5 years ago after unfortunately overdosing when someone spiked your drink at a gig. When you learned that Hell only had one radio station you set out to create your own; everyone called you crazy, that the radio was the domain of the infamous Radio Demon. But at that time he had been missing for 5 years, his radio show nothing but static whispering memories of the past. So you brushed everyone off and made your own show anyways. It was an instant hit, your fan base expanded rapidly as sinners were eager to listen to a new voice in Hell's media scene. You had found your niche, your place in the despondent plane called Hell.

For two years you were the queen of radio, but you unfortunately sat atop a borrowed throne. Six months ago you were broadcasting like any other day when, after signing off, you had found yourself locked inside your own studio as the shadows of the room crawled over you. Alastor had offered you a choice- either you sign a soul contract with him and continue your show under his administration, or you cease broadcasting for the rest of your afterlife. You suppose you should count your lucky stars that he didn't just kill you, you were technically a rival after all and you had heard how he dealt with others who challenged him. His reason for letting you live was just one of the many mysteries of The Radio Demon.

Said demon now sat on your futon, back ramrod straight and legs neatly crossed and tucked underneath him. His fingers were interlaced in his lap as he smiled radiantly at you.

"Evening my little doll! Riveting performance as always! Although, I do have one note. You recall a discussion we had earlier about not using profane language while on air yes?", his smile tightened, his eyes hardening ever so slightly in annoyance.

You rest your chin in your palm and give him the most bored expression you could muster,"No one gives a shit if I swear Alastor. We are in Hell, or have you forgotten?"

Everyone else was scared shitless of this man, but he made your heart rate spike for an entirely different reason than he did for most others. Your boss was fucking HOT. You regularly pleasured yourself as you listened to his own radio show he revived upon his return, your thighs automatically clenched together at the sound of his voice. So, in retribution for him being so damn attractive, you behaved like the biggest brat. It was a victorious day if you could make his ears twitch, an almost imperceptible movement of his fluff that would be easily missed if you weren't looking so hard for it.

Your sassy remark earned you the little ear flick you were going for which made you smirk, your Overlord employer narrowing his eyes at you in warning. "I really wouldn't start with that smart mouth if I were you Darling. Need I remind you that I own your little show? Therefore, you will abide by my rules- no more profanity. This is the end of the discussion." His tone left no room for argument; as much as you liked pushing his buttons, you were not stupid and knew when to quit while you were ahead...or alive that is. You let the argument go with a scoff and a mumbled "Fine".

Alastor beamed back at you once again, his voice returning to its normal, chipper tone, "Splendid! Now on to business- I would like to hear what you have prepared for the hotel's ceremony tomorrow. This event means quite a lot to our dear Princess Morningstar and I will not let her down." You caught the underlying threat, really it was you who carried the burden of making sure you upheld his image. Your job was not just to entertain the hotel guests, but to make The Radio Demon look good as well.

Luckily for you, Charlie was huge fan of your show. She would regularly call in to talk to you about your chosen discussion topic of the day and put in song requests. Really you had known Charlie for longer than Alastor had, you knew exactly what she liked and were more than prepared to cater your services for her party. Your smile sweetened again as you logged into your playlist for the Grand Re-Opening Ceremony, "I was going for a persevering and uplifting kinda vibe, concentrating on songs that will give girl-power and fuck-the-system. Charlie is a Swiftie, so I made sure to add several of her greatest hits to the line-up like 'Shake it Off' and 'Look What You Made Me Do'." You turn your laptop around so your boss could look at the playlist you made, only to be met with him giving you a "are you dumb?" look.

"There is absolutely no way you will be bringing that ridiculous contraption into my hotel Darling", he pointed to your computer with revulsion written clearly on his face as if the laptop personally wronged him.

You bark a short, incredulous laugh, "Alastor, if I can't bring my equipment into the hotel then how exactly am I supposed to do my job?" You cross your arms over your chest and lean back in your chair, waiting for him to explain his absurd rules that will only hinder your ability to make him proud.

"VoxTek cannot be trusted and is not allowed in the hotel- particularly by my very own employees! No no no no, I will provide you with everything you will need to provide top-notch entertainment to our esteemed guests", he snapped his fingers and a retro-looking record player and several record albums appeared beside your desk.

You became more and more exasperated as you rifled through the collection before you, "There isn't even anything from the last 50 years in here! As far as I'm aware, this isn't a "Roaring 20's"-themed party. If the goal is to make a good impression and get more sinners to stay at the hotel then we need to offer more than just old jazz tunes!"

The Radio Demon clutched at his chest in offense to your comment, "My Doll, no one partied harder than we did in the 20's. Jazz and speakeasies were truly the pinnacle of entertainment. I assure you that if you stick to my plan all will go just swimmingly." His voice hardened again at the end of his speech, warning you to just follow along. But you wouldn't, not when you knew you were right.

"And how many sinners from the NINETEEN-20's will be there exactly?!", your voice rose in volume with each word,"Face it, Alastor, most of the sinners there will be from more recent times. Therefore, we need to play music that ISN'T 100 years old!" You got up and started pacing your studio, completely oblivious to the growing radio static filtering off the man in red or how his antlers were starting to grow more tines. "Honestly, it's like you don't even try to connect to your audience anymore. I don't understand your complete aversion to modern technology, if you don't learn to adapt your are going to be left behind-", you stopped abruptly in the middle of the room, staring at the wall as the epiphany hit you like a ton of bricks. Your back was turned to the now irate Overlord, his claws dug into the leather of your futon to stop himself from launching at you. "That's why I'm here", you whispered, "You didn't kill me, you made me sign a soul deal so you could use me to bridge the gap between you and the younger audiences of hell. The younger generations find your show BORING."

You whip around with a triumphant smile on your face, ecstatic that you figured out the clever demon's ploy. Your face paled and the smile quickly disappeared when you took in the state of The Radio Demon. His normal crab-claw antlers now more closely resembled an elk's spread, the sclera of his eyes were jet black. The ever-present smile still adorned his face, but it now resembled a malicious grin akin to one you'd associate with The Joker. He rumbled out a low, dangerously dark chuckle that had the hair along your arms raising in goosebumps.

"Oh my Doll, you really should have learned when to quit running your mouth", he stood up and had you backed into the wall in three strides flat. "I should kill you for your insubordination, if you were anyone else you would be a mangled mess of blood and bone where you stand", his eyes bore down on you. Your heart hammered away in your chest as he lifted one hand to your face but you refused to flinch away from him, if this was how you died a second death then you would not give him the satisfaction of seeing your fear. Instead of dealing you a death blow, however, he gently dragged a claw from your temple to your chin. "Luckily for you, Princess Charlie would never forgive me if you were hurt by my hands. That... and I admit that I have grown quite fond of you myself. But-", his claw dug into the point where your chin and throat met just behind your jawbone, "-there must still be punishment. What kind of Overlord would I be if I let my possessions speak to me in such a disrespectful manner?"

You opened your mouth to plead your case but were quickly shot down, "Careful Doll. I enjoy you, but be careful. In fact, perhaps it is best if you do not speak at all", he chuckled again before summoning your soul chain in his hands. The bright, radioactive green glow of the chain blinded you momentarily and before you could process what was happening you were yanked to the other side of the room. When your eyes finally focused again you were on your knees with Alastor sat on the edge of the futon in front of you.

"Now Darling, how about you show me if that smart mouth of yours is good for something other than backtalk?", he pulled the chain again and your face came just inches from his crotch. You looked up at him with wide eyes, was he really asking you to do what you thought he was asking you to do? The way his eyes narrowed and his grin widened told you that yes- he wanted you to do exactly what you were thinking.

Well, you know what they say- what The Radio Demon wants, the Radio Demon gets. With a newfound determination you steeled your resolve and ran your fingers up his thighs to his belt. Without ever breaking eye contact with him you slowly unbuckled and removed the belt before opening his trousers. His cock was only half-hard under his briefs, running a finger up the length of it made it twitch deliciously and you smirked again before you freed his length from its fabric prison.

Even at only half-mast he was of impressive length and girth, no doubt you would struggle to take all of him once he was fully hard. Your mouth watered at the thought, you glanced back up at his face and noticed how his jaw was clenched in anticipation, eyes half-lidded at he stared at your mouth.

His expression was all the confirmation you needed before you leaned forward and licked up the length of his shaft from tip to base, nose brushing against the red curls of his pubic bone. Alastor gasped sharply above you, one hand wringing your hair around it as the other hand held your leash taut.

You teased his lower head with your tongue, swirling around it tantalizingly slowly. Gently parting your lips, you take just the mushroomed part into your mouth and give a gentle suck before teasing with your tongue again. You repeat this process a few times until his cock stands at full attention. After the third suck, he lets out a growl uses his hand in your hair to force you down further on his cock, clearly tired of the teasing. A small gag escaped your throat before you forced it to relax to accommodate the sudden intrusion. With a moan you slowly pushed forward until you felt him bottom out at the back of your throat.

"That's it Doll, such a good girl", Alastor gritted out through his teeth, holding your head there for a moment. You slowly started to bob your head, lips wrapped tightly around his shaft giving a popping sound every time they passed his engorged tip. Your tongue ran along the vein on the underside of his length, the skin velvety and warm.

After several long, slow passes, the deer demon gripped your head again to still your bobbing movements with your nose buried in his curls. Without a warning, he harshly pulled back and thrusted forward again, burying himself as deep down your esophagus as he could go. You sputtered, gagging sharply and tears instantly forming in your eyes. Your hands came up to push against his thighs but the chain on your neck quickly pulled tight again to keep you from moving a centimeter off his cock.

"Nuh-uh-uh Dear, it's time you learn your lesson for talking back to your master", he pulled back again just to thrust back into your mouth with brutal force. True to his word, he set a punishing pace. You struggled to breath between his continuous assault on your throat and the saliva that pooled in your mouth, dripping down your chin in thick spouts. Tears clouded your vision, all you could do was sit there and take his punishment and try not to pass out from lack of air. Every breath you managed to take came in through a gasp and left through a gag.

"My, my Doll. What pretty noises you make, so much better than the sassy remarks you usually give me. Perhaps you deserve a reward for taking your punishment without complaint."

You were suddenly pushed back off his cock, your lungs taking full advantage of the reprieve by gulping in as much air as they could. Clawed hands gripped your elbows as strong arms picked you up from the floor, your knees hit the futon cushion as your forearms landed on the back of the frame. A sudden breeze alerted you that your skirt was hiked up over your hips and your heard fabric ripping as your panties were torn from your core.

Alastor held your hips in a bruising grip and he thrusted into you, filling you to the hilt in the first go. A strangled moan left your raw throat, hands clenching onto the back of the couch. You were given minimal time to get used to the full feeling before Alastor resumed his brutal pace from before.

"I'll tell you what my dear, I'll make you a deal. I will provide you with a more modern record player and the vinyls for all those songs you wanted to play tomorrow as I still will not allow VoxTek technology in the hotel," you were honestly only partially listening as his tip was hitting your g-spot with every word. "In exchange, your body is mine to use as I see fit. Does that sound fair Doll?"

A lewd moan escaped you as he continued to drag his length through your walls, "Fuck Alastor-"

He stopped his movements just as you were reaching your peak making you whine in displeasure "I asked you a question- do we have a deal? You will not cum until you've answered me."

"Yes, Alastor! It's a deal. Please, please, please make me cum!", you cried out, you were so desperate for release you would have agreed to anything he asked.

"Hmm, I quite like you begging Doll. I quite like punishing you as well- I do hope you continue to behave like a brat, just to give me an excuse", he resumed his pace and before you knew it you were pushed over the edge, clenching hard around him. Alastor's own release soon followed as he spilled into you with a groan.

You knelt there on the futon, catching your breath as he pulled out and redressed himself. Once he was neatly tucked away again he walked around the couch to your face. His index finger lifted your chin so you were looking up at him, "I will see you tomorrow my doll, do not be late."

With that he disappeared into the shadows, leaving you reeling from what just happened. After a few minutes of processing the unexpected turn of events the smirk returned to your face.

"I wonder what would happened if I was just 5 minutes late?"

[justabigassnerd]

Anxieties

Pairing - Tim Bradford x teen!reader

Word count - 3,918

Warnings - angst, fluff, anxieties, Kojo is the best boy, brief mention of nightmares

Summary - after the ordeal with your uncle, your anxieties begin to take hold of you, worrying the others

A/N - hey y'all it's finally time for another fic! I'm so sorry it took me so long to get a new fic out, this was an anon request and I hope I did it justice. I won't ramble but as per y'all please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

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In the few weeks that passed after the ordeal with your uncle, you had found yourself on edge a lot more than normal. You felt like every time you surveyed a room, or walked down a street alone, you could see your uncle. But the moment you looked away and then looked back, he was gone. The logical part of your brain knew that Steve had been locked away and that Tim would never let him get near you but part of you was terrified that he’d somehow escape unnoticed and come after you. After all, Steve knew where you lived.

Despite all your anxieties, you hadn’t told Tim about them. He made it known that you could come to him about anything that was troubling you and you appreciated his willingness to be there for you. But you were scared that Tim would think you were being stupid for being so worried. So you opted to suffer in silence, constantly on edge and suffering from reoccurring nightmares about Steve hurting those you love.

Unbeknownst to you, Tim was suffering in his own fair share of anxieties regarding your safety. He always made sure that someone he trusted was picking you up from school now instead of relying on the school bus. He had asked you to send him regular updates throughout the day just to make sure you were okay and he even got the idea from Nolan to implement a safe word plan to let him know if anything was wrong or if you were completely fine.

“Chen, I’ve got a meeting with Kiara in a few, do you think you could pick y/n up for me?” Tim asks, bumping into Lucy as she is on her way out of the locker room, now in her civvies instead of her uniform. Tim had begun to have regular meetings with Kiara about moving forward with adopting you, she had been talking him through everything and he was soon going to have the official paperwork he was going to surprise you with somehow.

“Yeah, that’s fine I can do that,” Lucy says with a smile, already beginning to dig her car keys out of her pocket as she nods.

“Thank you,” Tim says gratefully, pulling out his phone to text you and let you know that Lucy would be picking you up before bidding Lucy goodbye and making his way to Grey’s office to pick up the paperwork he needed to do. Lucy heads out to her car, gets in, and drives in the direction of your school as she hums along to the song on the radio.

“Looks like Lucy is picking me up today.” You mumble as you read the text on your phone while you and your friends exit the school building.

“What have you done that means that you’re now being picked up every day instead of taking the school bus like you used to?” Juliet asks jokingly, wondering why you had suddenly stopped taking the bus.

“I don’t know. Maybe there was a rough case and Tim just wants to make sure I’m safe.” You shrug. You hadn’t told your friends about what had happened with your uncle but you didn’t think that you being picked up regularly was a product of that as it started a week after the incident. You had just come to the conclusion that Tim had gone through a rough case that caused this. As you glance around you quickly locate Lucy’s car as she pulls up and you say goodbye to your friends with the promise to text them later before heading over to the car, greeting Lucy as you get in.

“Hey y/n/n. How was school?” Lucy asks cheerfully as you get into the car, putting your bag in the footwell in front of you before buckling up your seatbelt.

“It was okay. It was school.” You say with a light shrug, offering Lucy a smile.

“Any fun gossip from today that you can tell me but not Tim?” Lucy then asks as she starts the car beginning the drive to your house. Over the time you had known her, Lucy had become your confidant. Anything you wanted to tell someone about that you weren’t ready to talk to Tim about, you could go to Lucy and she’d support you and give you advice when you needed it.

“No, sorry.” You say with a slight laugh as Lucy groans jokingly. The two of you continue to chat with each other until you make it home and you invite Lucy in as you usually did when she drove you home.

“Did you want to take Kojo on a walk with me?” You ask as you unlock the front door, looking over at Lucy as she nods.

“I’ll never turn down an opportunity to hang out with Kojo,” Lucy says with a smile, entering the house behind you, immediately crouching down to pet Kojo as he comes over to greet you while you put your bag down and grab Kojo’s lead. 

“Let’s go then, buddy.” You say to Kojo, clipping his lead on before the two of you leave the house again with Kojo trotting loyally by your side.

“Hey, do you want me to text Jackson and have him meet us at the park?” Lucy asks, pulling her phone out of her pocket as you nod with a smile.

“The more the merrier.” You say as Lucy types a message to Jackson. You felt a little safer knowing there would be not one but two police officers with you so if something did happen, both Lucy and Jackson would look out for you. You and Lucy continue to talk as you make your way to the park, settling down on a bench and playing fetch with Kojo once you arrive while you wait for Jackson to arrive. Before too long has passed, Jackson arrives, greeting you both with a smile before joining you on the bench, watching as Kojo sniffs around the park, investigating.

“How does it feel knowing you guys aren’t rookies for much longer?” You ask curiously, looking over at the two as Kojo comes trotting over, sitting by your feet and dropping the ball in his mouth at Jackson’s looking up at him and quietly begging for Jackson to throw the ball which he does so, sending Kojo darting off after it.

“It’s weird. But exciting. I can’t wait to patrol and not worry about when the next ‘Tim Test’ will happen.” Lucy admits with a laugh as Jackson nods in agreement.

“I mean I didn’t have Tim as my TO but I’m ready to get out on the streets without someone watching my every move,” Jackson says, watching as you nod. The three of you continue to talk about everything that comes to mind until Kojo comes trotting up to you, panting and signalling that he’s done playing.

“Come on, we’ll walk you home. I’m sure Tim will be home soon anyway.” Lucy says as all three of you stand from the bench and as you look up after clipping Kojo’s lead back on his collar you could’ve sworn that you caught sight of Steve disappearing behind a tree and it made you freeze in place, your breath hitching in your throat as you watch carefully to see if the person emerges again or not.

“Hello? Earth to y/n.” Lucy says, waving a hand in front of your face and bringing you back to reality.

“Sorry.” You say sheepishly, not missing Lucy and Jackson’s worried glance between each other.

“Is everything okay?” Lucy then asks, watching you carefully before Jackson speaks up.

“Did you see something?” Jackson asks, immediately on high alert as he surveys the park, looking for any suspicious behaviour.

“No, I just zoned out for a minute. Everything’s fine.” You say quickly with a weak chuckle before turning on your heels and walking off with Kojo by your side with Lucy and Jackson rushing after you. They were both worried about you but with your dismissive attitude, they didn’t want to push too much and drive you back into your cocoon after all the progress you’d made since being fostered, so as they followed you, they decided they’d bring it up with Tim and see if you’d open up to him about anything that was bothering you.

“Hey, is it okay if we come in and wait for Tim with you? I wanted to ask him something.” Lucy asks as you approach the house, turning to face them with a nod and a small smile.

“Yeah, he’s evidently not back yet so I’m fine if you come in to wait.” You say, unlocking the door and allowing them to come in while you crouch down to unhook Kojo from his lead, watching as he trots off in search of his water bowl. You, Jackson, and Lucy then sit in the living room and make small talk until you hear the key in the door and Tim announce his arrival, making you get up to greet him.

“Hey, Tim.” You say as you meet Tim by the door, hugging him quickly and missing the way Tim’s eyebrows furrowed at your greeting. Since the incident with your uncle, you’d started calling Tim ‘Dad’ a bit more often. You weren’t fully confident about calling him that in public or in front of other people just yet and Tim was okay with that, he just found it odd that you were calling him ‘Tim’ at home but when he heard more footsteps and looked up to see Lucy and Jackson he understood your shyness.

“Chen, West, what brings you here?” Tim asks as he releases you from the hug, watching as the two approach.

“We just wanted to talk to you about something,” Lucy says, fiddling with her fingers nervously.

“Okay,” Tim says simply.

“I’ll go to my room to give you some privacy.” You whisper quietly, grabbing your bag off the floor and heading to your room. Kojo follows behind you to keep you company while Tim, Lucy, and Jackson sit in the living room to talk.

“What’s up?” Tim asks, glancing between the two rookies as they each take a deep breath.

“We’re a little worried about y/n,” Lucy says, starting the conversation as Tim’s eyebrows furrow in thought.

“What’s going on? Is she okay?” Tim asks, already bracing his hands on either side of himself, ready to push himself onto his feet to go and check on you.

“We don’t know exactly but we both joined her when she took Kojo for a walk and just as we were getting ready to leave the park it was like she zoned out and she looked a little scared almost,” Jackson explains as best he can, recalling the event from earlier. Tim listens carefully thinking everything over in his head to try and figure out what it is that’s wrong.

“And she didn’t say anything?” Tim presses, wanting to get as much information out of the two as he can.

“She didn’t say anything. She said she was fine but I don’t fully buy it.” Lucy says, watching Tim carefully as he nods, carefully listening to every word she says.

“I’ll keep an eye on her. I don’t want to force her to tell me anything unless she’s ready to. But thank you for letting me know.” Tim says, nodding appreciatively at the two as they offer a small smile each before they decide to head home, both of them bidding Tim a quiet goodbye before they leave the house, leaving Tim alone with his thoughts until you appear in the doorway to the living room.

“Did Lucy and Jackson go home?” You ask, immediately noticing that the two are no longer in the house.

“Yeah, they left not too long ago. Sorry, I should’ve let you know they were leaving.” Tim apologises, watching as you shake your head with a small smile.

“I’ll see them again soon enough, it’s fine.” You say, assuring Tim that it was okay. In response, Tim nods with a tight-lipped smile as he gets to his feet.

“You hungry? I was going to make some dinner.” Tim asks, watching as you nod quietly, following him to the kitchen, sitting at the kitchen island and watching as Tim starts to get out various ingredients.

“Where’s Kojo?” Tim asks, noticing the lack of Kojo’s presence.

“He must’ve worn himself out on our walk because he hopped up on my bed and fell asleep before I’d even started my homework.” You say with a laugh.

“Well, we’ll let him sleep then. How else is he going to get the energy to drag me around on tomorrow morning’s walk?” Tim jokes, making you shake your head, laughing at the image of Tim being dragged around by Kojo.

“We can’t let him miss out on his dinner though.” You say watching Tim shake his head with a smile.

“Oh, he’ll know when it’s time for his dinner. You know that.” Tim says as you recall all the times Kojo used to paw and whine at you and Tim when it got close to his dinner time. You help Tim make dinner and he keeps a close eye on you, seeing if he can pinpoint any unusual behaviours from you. By the time you’ve finished making dinner and sat down to eat, Kojo had emerged from your room and demanded his dinner which you gave to him after you finished eating. As you finish tidying up after yourself, you turn to face Tim.

“I’m going to finish off my homework. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” You say, receiving a quick nod from Tim before you head off to your room, settling down at your desk and opening your laptop. Unbeknownst to Tim, you had actually finished your homework relatively quickly and easily earlier in the day, instead of doing any schoolwork when you opened your laptop, you opened a new tab and quickly searched up the recent news in Los Angeles. Your eyes scanned the various headlines that popped up, searching to see if there was anything to do with your uncle and him potentially escaping from prison somehow. You could feel your heart pounding and feel your mouth drying up as anxiety begins to wind itself around every part of you. When you read through the entire day’s worth of news, you let out a soft sigh of relief at the realisation that your uncle was still in prison. Despite the reassurance, you couldn’t shake the anxiety off that easily. Even after reading the various news headlines, even refreshing the page several times to double-check that nothing new had come through but even multiple checks couldn’t put your anxious mind at rest. You then decided to try and take your mind off it by catching up on some shows you and your friends have been talking about. You managed to watch a few episodes, but the moment a plotline came up in one of the crime shows where it depicted a convict escaping prison, you had to close your laptop and walk away from your desk. Your anxiety was now in high drive and you didn’t know how to stop it.

As if he sensed your troubles, Kojo nosed his way into your room as you sat down on the end of your bed, propping himself up on your legs using his front paws and resting his head on your lap, whining softly as he looked up at you.

“Hey, buddy.” You whisper shakily, beginning to pet Kojo softly, feeling your pounding heart begin to slow at the comforting presence of the dog. Taking your subtle cue, Kojo hauls himself up onto the bed alongside you, laying himself fully across your lap, the weight of your beloved dog helping to ground you even further as you repeatedly stroke his head. You stay put with Kojo for a few minutes before you decide to get ready for bed, having had enough of the day. You settled in bed, reading one of your lighthearted books with Kojo at your feet, and after about twenty minutes, Tim knocked on your door, entering with permission.

“Hey, kid.” Tim greets you softly, crossing to your bedside and smiling down at you.

“Hey.” You greet, putting your bookmark into your book and closing it, looking up at Tim.

“Goodnight, if you need me you can come and get me,” Tim says, leaning down to give you a hug which you reciprocate with a smile.

“I know, goodnight Dad.” You reply quietly, your smile widening slightly when you feel Tim tighten the hug ever so slightly.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Tim says, releasing you from the hug, reaching down to pet Kojo and then making his way out of your room and back to his own room to go to bed. You choose to stay up a few more minutes, reading your book to put your mind at ease enough to fall asleep and when your eyelids begin to grow heavy, you put your book down, turned your light off and drifted off to sleep.

A few hours later, you bolted up in bed, panting heavily with tears in your eyes and fumbling to switch your lamp on as Kojo lifted his head, watching you quietly.

“Sorry buddy.” You whisper, reaching over to pet Kojo. He lets out a soft whine, stretching over to rest his head on your lap, and you try to force the memories of the nightmare out of your head. As you sit there petting Kojo, you feel your mouth drying up in your anxiety so you gently move Kojo off your lap and head out to the kitchen to get a drink of water.

While you headed off to the kitchen, Kojo hopped off your bed and made a beeline to Tim’s room, pawing at the door to push it open enough for him to creep in. Kojo made his way into the room, propping his front legs on the bed and pawing at Tim, waking him up instantly.

“Kojo, go to sleep,” Tim says, cracking an eye open and seeing the dog watching him. When he attempted to close his eyes, Kojo pawed at Tim once more, whining and making Tim open his eyes again, this time propping himself up on his elbow as he switched his lamp on.

“What is it?” Tim asks, aware of how silly it is to be asking a dog for an answer but after seeing the almost worried look on Kojo’s face, he starts to grow concerned himself.

“Is something wrong with y/n?” Tim then asks, and at his words, Kojo pushes off the bed and walks over to the door, looking back at Tim over his shoulder as Tim pushes himself off the bed and follows Kojo as he leads him to the kitchen where you were stood cradling a glass of water, eyes full of tears as you stared out the window.

“y/n? What’s up, kid?” Tim calls out to you softly, not missing how you jumped at the sound of his voice before you turned to face him.

“I’m fine.” You try weakly, quickly lifting a free hand to wipe at the unfallen tears.

“Somehow I’m not convinced,” Tim says, a soft joking tone to his voice as he approaches you slowly.

“I just needed a glass of water, I promise I’m okay, Tim.” You try again and this time Tim shakes his head, knowing you weren’t okay.

“You can tell me what’s wrong. I promise I won’t be upset.” Tim says, standing opposite you and watching you carefully.

“Can we talk in my room?” You ask quietly, glancing over your shoulder and watching the window carefully as a sense of unease settles into your body.

“Of course. You head to your room with Kojo and I’ll be right behind you.” Tim says reassuringly, picking up on your nervousness and taking the appropriate action. You nod quietly, heading to your room with Kojo by your side while Tim stays behind, flicking all the lights off as he makes his way to your room before entering your room, finding you sat on your bed with Kojo practically curled up on your lap as you stroked him softly.

“Hey.” You say quietly as Tim pulls out your desk chair, pulling it alongside your bed and sitting on it, regarding you softly.

“What’s up, kid?” Tim asks as your focus drops to Kojo, a small smile appearing on your face as Kojo lets out a small huff of appreciation as you stroke him.

“Promise you won’t think it’s stupid?” You ask quietly, briefly looking up at Tim before focusing back on Kojo.

“I promise I won’t think it’s stupid. Whatever it is, it’s got you shaken up pretty bad.” Tim assures you softly, letting you know there would be no judgement.

“I keep thinking I can see my uncle everywhere I go. I think I catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye and then I’m anxious for the rest of the day. I’m constantly checking the news to see if he escaped and I’m terrified that he’ll get out and if he does, he knows where I live. I keep having nightmares about what happened a few weeks ago. And I’m terrified he’s going to do it again.” You explain, tears welling in your eyes as Tim’s expression softens.

“He’s not going to get out. And in the very rare event that he does, he’d have to be prepared to get through almost all of the LAPD before he could hurt a hair on your head. I can promise you that.” Tim says, his voice never wavering as you reach up to wipe more unfallen tears from your eyes. At Tim’s words, you nod lightly, still not completely at ease but you found comfort in Tim’s willingness to protect you.

“You’d really get the LAPD to protect me if he got out?” You ask quietly as Tim nods.

“There isn’t one thing I wouldn’t do to protect you. I’d do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” Tim says, watching you as you smile despite your tears, carefully moving Kojo off your lap so you can embrace Tim who is of course quick to accept the hug, holding you close as he feels you relax.

“Thank you, Dad.” You whisper gratefully, burying your face in his shoulder.

“No need to thank me, y/n/n. I’ve got you.” Tim says softly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head before releasing you from the hug, watching as you sit back on your bed, giggling as Kojo sits up and takes the opportunity to lick your cheek.

“I’ll let you get some more rest. But if you’re still anxious and need me don’t be afraid to wake me up. Or send Kojo to do it for you.” Tim says, petting Kojo as he stands from your chair, putting it back behind your desk as you get back into your bed. Once you’re under the covers, you say one last goodnight to Tim before lying down as he leaves your room, leaving you to fall into a comforting sleep, knowing that Tim would move heaven and earth to keep you safe and that you’d be protected no matter what.

taglist (comment or ask to be added):

@starlightandsouls @whirlwind2005

[colourstreakgryffin]

So…

Alastor is a deer, yes? How would a relationship with him and a Coyote Reader go, I’ve been having brain rot over it for the past few days, it’s just to ironic

Much love xoxo

I definitely can do! Hehe. I love contrasts like this and I think about stuff like this too. I chose bears, not coyotes. It’s so silly yet perfect! Alastor out here hating dogs so this’ll be an enemies to lovers thing… not my favourite but new

Alastor- The Prey and the Predator

Let’s get this clear… Alastor does not like dogs. He actively dislikes dogs so when he finds you. A coyote sinner, he is not interested and he’ll avoid you like the plague. You remind him too much of the dogs of his past that he despises

For a while, Alastor has a one-sided disliking towards you. Solely because you’re a Coyote sinner but after some more time of working/staying at the hotel. He begins to examine you more as a person and less for your canine features

And he realises just how much of a prick he was being for… mostly no reason. You are a dog on the outside but you’re a dove on the inside, Alastor supposed he can try get around the whole Coyote thing you have… it’s not like you want to be a Coyote

Alastor goes from ignoring and snarling at you openly to shyly approaching you with a bouquet of roses and asking for you to forgive him. It’s so interesting how hew went from closed-off, uncaring and hateful to your overall presence to clearly having a fat crush on you. Your personality is beautiful, he eventually can ignore the dog features

Now. If you think you’re the one who’s dom in this relationship, just because you’re the coyote and Al’s the deer. You’re very wrong. Al’s a predator in a prey’s body, a wolf in deer’s fur. He is in charge and he’s the one hunting you down

Alastor has a mix of prey and predator instincts around you when you’re angry. He has the urge to subdue you when you’re in your own predator instincts mode but he also has the urge to avoid you. His predator urges always wins though

However, you swear you can smell delicious fresh venison off the Radio Demon… he does smell gorgeous but you’re not a cannibal like that

Alastor actually can’t help but find the way your tail wags when he pets through your ears and the soft dog-like whines of happiness you let out when hugging him… insanely cute. He may not like dogs but he has a exception for this precious coyote

Alastor doesn’t find it funny when you joke about eating him. It’s quite a sensitive topic and he regularly asks you to not make any type of joke, such as that. This connection you share with him may have grown from being a one-sided hatred to a full-blown relationship but that doesn’t mean he will completely excuse all dog-like mannerisms you have

Alastor actually really likes it when you climb into his lap and curl up. You’re the same size as Vaggie, maybe a bit taller. You’re a shorter person but you’re not so small to be identified as an actual Coyote, you just have the ears and tail but yet. Here you are, curled up and sleeping in his lap in the most canine-like way possible

Alastor has a bad sense of general personal hygiene but yet, he needs you to regularly check up on your own personal hygiene since he cannot stand the smell of your wet dirty fur…

Angel Dust definitely gave you a collar and leash for your birthday, as a sick joke and Alastor is like… “may we use it?”

Alastor enjoys grooming your fur. Your soft, you may let out a few coyote growls here and there but you’re not going to hurt him so he can trust you to stay obedient and still whilst he brushes through your ears and tail

Alastor has made a cute and convenient rule with you; you both communicate in emergencies through animal noises. You’ll bark coyote-like out, he’ll bleat deer-like out. It’s the way you two alarm each other of something happening. The second you bark, he knows something is going down and you’re calling for him

Alastor lets you touch him and his deer features, no problem and no need for permission. Your claws aren’t that strong and all you really have is incredible speed, agility, jaw strength and night vision. You don’t actually have any ability to harm him, even when he flinches here and there, out of pure instinct

Alastor calls you a ‘bitch’ all the time to other people and out loud, all to screw and mess around with you. He’s an asshole of a classy gentleman, he’ll be offensive. Even to his partner! Yes, you’re a bitch but you’re his bitch

Alastor, at one point, will finally open up about his trauma centred around dogs and explain to you exactly why he treated you so awfully at first. How he went from a hater to a lover. He is so glad you’re quite understanding and patient with him so when he lays down the rules of your relationship with him, you accept them and that grows his love for you even more

You’re incredible, for being part a wild vicious canine such as a Coyote, darling~!

“My dear. Let’s ease up on the growling, what’s gotten you so irritate? Did you get into another disagreement with my fellow, Husk?”

[white-hole-station]

I headcanon that Hearthians don't sleep based on Timber Hearth's actual day/night cycle (because that's too short), but their level of activity does fluctuate with it, both individually and culturally. When it's light, there's more movement and louder talking and laughing around the village, and more physical tasks are done - building, fishing, repairs, exploration. When it's dark, the town is more quiet, and people do downtime activities or more restful/indoor chores like sewing to go along with their bodies and brains' natural slowing of the pace. It's considered kind of rude to start an important conversation or demand decision-making when it's dark, and regularly pushing yourself to keep doing light-time tasks though the dark part of the rotation instead of taking a break (like I'm sure Slate and Hornfels do) is a sign of determination or a sign of chronic overwork, depending on the circumstances.

When a Hearthian goes to space, the fluctuation in energy still lingers on the Timber Hearth schedule for a couple days, but it fades fast. Either the travelers get a new circadian rhythm from the planet they're on, or, more often, they get caught in a troublesome in-between on a scale of either too revved up to be sustainable, or too low energy to be very useful. In a place like Giant's Deep, with its heavy cloud cover, it's not hard to imagine why Gabbro would wind up even more nappish than usual, being slightly sleepy most of the time even with enough rest. In exposed places like Ember Twin, the constant bright light would leave a Hearthian feeling keyed up for longer than their bodies and brains are really layed out to handle, which can easily lead to burnout (...and definitely didn't help with poor Chert's late-loop breakdown). The effect isn't extreme, but it's definitely inconvenient, and an experienced traveler will have to learn to compensate for it in different ways in the places where they make camp often.

When it comes to actually sleeping, I think each individual sort of ends up on their own natural schedule, going to bed when it's dark and they feel tired enough and being down for a few rotations before waking up again. Very new hatchlings often wake every time it's light, making them a bit high maintenance to care for.

The reality of going to bed and sleeping while others might be still be up and in the middle of their day means a Hearthian is used to drifting off with the noise of community around them...which makes going to sleep in space especially disconcerting and isolating. A lot of new travelers will leave their signalscope on, the staticy music and shifting signals filling the silence until they can get more accustomed to sleeping alone. Hornfels has spent many a first night out on the radio from mission control with the new traveler in question, just talking quietly or puttering around the museum, so that the radio picks up the noise in the background and lulls the astronaut to sleep. None of them ever planned to call so soon after launch, but they almost always do. It's okay. Hornfels doesn't mind. Even from the museum, they can hear the sounds of Timber Hearth from out the windows, and they have a hard time imagining sometimes how lonely it would be to hear nothing but the stars.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

I don't know if this is the right place to vent this, but since this is a writing/fandom blog, I'll give it a try. Apologies in advance if my message feels out of the place.

So... has anyone, like me, ever felt "unwanted" by their fandom?

Context: I write for a small fandom (1,500 works on AO3), and I write there from the beginning and foundation (4 years). The thing is: I don't write in English, I write and post in my first language, so my audience was always been very restricted, even if there were (and still are!) a couple of kind souls who translate with Google my stories and read it. I am the most prolific writer in this fandom. And that's a fact: counting the numbers of words published, I am the one who has written more in the whole section. Despite all of this, I have never gotten the chance to become a "fandom big" because of the language barrier. That's okay, I can survive, and I still write every day to update my ongoing longs. Anyway, since this fandom is very small, we are also thirsty for content. Every time an artist posts a single fan art on Tumblr (good or bad or mid) everyone flocks and reblog, putting nice tags and kind words of support. Every time I update a fic (I'm the only one writing regularly)... radio silence. I know they don't own me anything. And it's okay if they don't want to try to engage with my writing, but still... it breaks my heart. It's like I'm invisible. And what's worse... when people talk about our fandom stories on Tumblr they always refer to old fics, to authors who didn't update their stories in years... it's always like they are excluding me on purpose. And I don't know why. When I try to engage, to leave a nice comment on a fic or on a piece of art... they don't even acknowledge me. They always act super enthusiastic when an artist makes a new drawing... but when I put a new chapter, a new story... nothing.

And what's worst: when a "fandom king" makes a post about a headcanon or something... it's always something that goes against something I've written in one of my stories. As they're trying to say: "Don't read those stories. What the author is trying to say is just rubbish. Don't even acknowledge them. "

I don't even know if I'm just being paranoid because I have always been ostracized as a kid and even in my teen years... so it's like a curse I can't wash off myself, and I see people pushing me aside because I'm still suffering from this.

Sorry for the vent... I just would like to hear another voice about my situation. I don't have friends, and even when I try to make "fandom friends", well... I'm not so lucky, as you can see.

Thank you if you would like to read my message. I send a big hug to anyone who is suffering from this kind of issue.

anon, I fully believe this is a language barrier thing. you can’t expect people to engage with you when they can’t engage with something that’s, I assume, in language they don’t understand. and don’t get me wrong, there is absolutely nothing wrong with writing in other languages that aren’t English. but the thing is that you can’t expect people to engage with something that’s not in the language they know, it’s… just not possible. because even if they want to, they just don’t understand what the work even is about.

and Google translate is actually shit when it comes to actually translating. you only get what the text is about (and even then there’s still a 50/50 chance the translation will be off completely) but not the actual feeling, something that can only be translated by humans and not robots, that’s why most people don’t use google translate to help read fics or books in languages they don’t understand. I also know when most people search for a fic to read, they only search for their language and filter out fics that aren’t in their language altogether. so that’s why. I don’t think they’re trying to exclude you, I just think that it’s impossible for them to engage with your works. and I want to make it clear that I am in no way saying you should only write in English, all I’m saying is if your works are in languages that (some) people don’t speak, then they’re not gonna be able to read your works because google translate sucks at translating and if they don’t even have a glimpse of what the works are about, they’re not gonna bother trying to translate them in the first place.

again, this isn’t to say “oh you should write in English” or “works that are written in English are better” at all. write in the language you’re most comfortable with because at the end of the day you should be writing for you. just, you know, don’t get discouraged if people can’t engage with your works.

*also wanted to add that you can’t expect people’s headcanon to fit yours either. I mean headcanon don’t even fit canon. it’s all about the creativity and imagination of artists, you can’t expect them to think like you. that’s not how fandoms work. people will have their own hcs / interpretations of the characters, just because they’re different from yours doesn’t mean they’re trying to throw shade at you. even my own friends in the fandom I’m in and write for have headcanons that are the complete opposite of my fics. and it’s fun to see different perspectives from people. you don’t have to agree with them. but I really don’t think they’re insulting you by posting headcanon that go against your fics, I just think they’re just having fun and having their own interpretations of the characters.

[cosmicfandomvegan]

My hot take: Who does Kakashi Hatake love the most?

We all remember that heartbreaking moment where Sasuke asked Kakashi:

And Kakashi responded:

This narrows it down to:

Sakumo

Obito

Rin

Minato

Whose grave does he visit the most? Hm, that would be both Obito or Rin's.. followed closely by Sakumo.

Who does he talk about the most? Minato tbh. Always "the Fourth" this, "the Fourth" that. lmao

He mentions Obito but not by name, only calling him his 'best friend' but he quotes him 24/7.

He only brought up Sakumo that time Chiyo mistook him for his dad. This is in no way an indication that Kakashi loves his dad any less, but it's just another notable observation I as the viewer have made.

Even though he loves and misses her, he never brings Rin up at all. This is likely due to guilt for killing her, but you'd think he'd bring up other good things about her, like he does with Obito, but he's radio silent. :(

Whose teachings does he live by the most?

Originally he lived his life with Sakumo’s “mistake” in mind (trying to do the opposite) until Obito tore it down by telling him that no, Sakumo was actually correct! And Kakashi, rule-following Kakashi, had talk-no-jutsu used on him for the first time by Obito 😭 

You could say that because of Obito, he now lives by Sakumo's ideals, but it's clear that he's not living by Sakumo's ideals, but Obito's specifically... Right down to becoming a sensei who's often tardy... kinda like a certain 'dead' best friend... So.. not something he borrowed from Sakumo after all.

He never once talks about any of Rin's ideals, and tbh we don't know much about her. He loved her as a teammate and older sister, but her death was clearly overshadowed by Obito's.

As Hokage, Minato valued mission success, not coldly, but as a leader who understood hard choices. Minato tried to temper Kakashi’s rigidity post-Obito’s "death," but Minato's own philosophy still leaned toward "complete the objective" (e.g., his quick decision-making during war, prioritizing strategic victories). Kakashi idolized him, but Minato never fully shook Kakashi’s belief that missions > people, because Minato himself operated within that system.

Instead, Kakashi constantly references Obito's, "Those who break the rules are scum… but those who abandon their friends are worse than scum," even tho it directly contradicts his earlier belief (based off of Sakumo's tragedy).

Essentially, Kakashi rejected his father’s values (comrades > mission) until Obito redeemed them. Kakashi still lives by Obito’s ideals because he genuinely loves him so much, which was the only reason how Obito no longer being part of his life was able to affect him so much. This all makes Obito by far the most transformative and important figure in his life.

Obito’s impact on Kakashi goes beyond everyone else. While Minato offered guidance, Sakumo’s death toughened him, and Rin’s death solidified Obito’s beliefs in Kakashi’s heart, it was Obito alone who tore apart Kakashi’s worldview and rebuilt it. Kakashi keeps Obito’s memory alive in everything he does, treating his teachings as sacred and passing it to every new generation, visiting his grave very regularly, and constantly honoring him—even after learning about his betrayal.

Kakashi’s quick forgiveness and defense of Obito show that his loyalty is rooted in genuine love, not guilt. Obito’s the only one Kakashi failed, mourned, fought, and very quickly forgave unconditionally (even knowing Obito started the 4th great ninja war and was responsible for so many deaths, including the deaths of Minato and Kushina whom he loved). He forgave him like you would forgive a family member, not like just a friend, because Obito was like the big brother Kakashi never had—someone he couldn’t save, and that bond shaped them both deeply. 

Even after the truth about Obito came out, Kakashi’s love for him didn’t fade—it only somehow ended up making their love for one another stronger, since everything Obito did in his own words was for Kakashi and himself to be able to live in a world where all three (including Rin) were back together again, untouched by death's grip.

Even though Kakashi forms close bonds with Team 7 and Gai in his adult life, his connection with Obito is still by far the most significant. Dude would've let himself be killed after Obito was unmasked had it not been for Naruto saving him from Obito's fire attack last minute. (Hell, not even Obito expected that, since we learn that Obito never intended to kill him!) After the face reveal, Kakashi's eyes looked so dead even though Gai had quickly recovered from the shock of who Tobi was.

Obito is firmly in "the one that got away" category of Kakashi's life. Like, if Obito had stayed an ally, Obito and Kakashi would've been the dynamic, unstoppable duo (<-vid) that the enemies ran from. That's why Kishi couldn't allow Obito to stay an ally.. If Obito had not sided with Madara, he would've been Kakashi's right-hand man, his very best friend whom he did everything with.. Instead, Kakashi had to settle for another comedic bestie, Gai (whom I love as well—but Kakashi and I both know it’s just not the same. That’s why he didn’t consider Gai one of the people he loved—at that time, they weren’t that close yet; they were true rivals).

I truly think there will never be another person that Kakashi will love more than Obito Uchiha. It's no wonder he still wanted Obito to live.. even knowing all the crimes he committed:

Because then, at least, Kakashi would still have his brother—someone he loved deeply—alive, and that would be all that mattered. We all know Kakashi was so ready to help Obito atone every step of the way, like his own personal parole officer, the one Obito could lean on to help keep him in line.

Some say it's crazy to think Obito would've been able to just live freely if he'd survived, but .. uhhh.. Orochimaru??? And redeemed Obito is far safer/more stable than Snake-man. -_- Maybe he'd just need someone to track his every movement.. like Yamato did for Orochimaru. So heck, Hokage Kakashi would've let Obito be his advisor or something probably... llol XD Just to keep him close. c:

Any love interest Kakashi might have in future will pale in comparison to his love for Obito. I really think Kakashi will be an eternal bachelor like Gaara since he's already in his 50s in Boruto & still single.. It really peaked at Obito lol.

TLDR; Obito is Kakashi’s greatest love (even though I ship them so hard, I personally do not think they are in love, but Kakashi loves Obito as a brother) and that love trumps all other loves he's had in his life because in the series, as in most shonen anime, brotherly love is super highly esteemed (eg Itachi/Sasuke for example).

[redacted-00101]

More Modern-day DPS Headcanons!

I got a few notes on my last post, so as promised here is part 2 :D

link to part 1

If all the poets owned iphones, they would fs have a group chat on messages, but since that’s definitely not the case (Cameron and Meeks both have androids and Neil owns a fucking flip phone 💔) they have a group chat on whatsapp and on instagram.

In regard to Neil’s flip phone, his parents would definitely be the worst fucking helicopter parents when it comes to technology, hence the flip phone, and even then they’d regularly check it. It’s one of those modern ones with the touch screens, but it still has the fucked up keypad and the only messaging on it besides SMS is whatsapp.

I think Neil for sure reaches a point where, the second he’s old enough, he gets a job at mcdonalds or taco bell or some other shitty job to save up and buy a proper smart phone behind his parents backs + so he can have some financial freedom and buy other things. Until then, however, his access to things like social media (tiktok, instagram, reddit, youtube, etc) was strictly through computers.

Even though he doesn’t really need to, Charlie applies to the same shitty fast food place Neil works at so he can keep him company. Since the job is low stakes for Charlie and he hates rules, Charlie really tests their manager’s patience all the time and is possibly the biggest liability to their establishment, but the only thing that matters is that Neil is entertained.

Neil loves Brokeback Mountain.

In fact, Neil is just a huge fan of cowboy media in general. His favourite video game is red dead, and he loved woody in Toy Story. He also has a massive crush on Arthur Morgan, Jake Gyllenhaal, and Heath Ledger.

This is sort of an extension on Knox being the most performative man ever from my last post, but he definitely listens to Lana and Clairo, and he probably crops his shirts and wears a diesel belt. I could genuinely talk about performative Knox for hours 😭

Charlie used to watch those “sjw getting owned” compilation vids back in the day 😔🥀 BUT HE’S REFORMED NOW!!

Neil and Todd LOVE collecting physical media. They both own those radios that have cd players built into them and they both collect all their favourite music and albums on cds, they also love to burn cds and make cute little mixtapes for each other. Cameron doesn’t see the point as everything is on their phones and stuff, but Neil kind of grew up doing this anyways due to his parents being strict about technology, and it also gave Neil a sense of control and creative stimulation. When he met Todd, Todd thought it was super cool that Neil still collected physical media and started doing it too <3

Neil always decorates the cd covers of the mixtapes he makes for Todd with little stickers and scrap paper.

Todd just scrawls the track list across his mixtapes in sharpie and calls it a day.

Even though Todd and Neil kind of have different music taste, and Todd kind of doesn’t really love all the music Neil listens to, he still listens to every song, even the ones he doesn’t like. Whenever he gets a new mixtape from Neil, when Neil isn’t in their room or is out at an extracurricular, Todd puts the mixtape on and just lays on the carpet in their room and stares up at the ceiling listening.

Knox was unironically apart of the logang and owned team maverick merch.

Charlie probably watched filthy frank.

I KNOW they all watched good mythical morning (They still quote the some of the songs to each other)

I would love to believe that they all watched cartoon network growing up, but it was probably only Charlie, Knox, and Meeks who did. Pitts and Cameron grew up on disney, and Todd watched nickelodeon and whatever the hell his mother was watching (reality tv, soaps, greys anatomy, Todd LOVED the drama). Neil only watched cartoon network when he was at Charlie’s place, otherwise, his television entertainment came from the selection of kids dvds on the shelf in his home, which consisted of looney tunes, the muppets show, popeye, felix the cat, betty boop, olive oyl, and various obscure cartoons that no one’s ever even heard of before.

These days, Meeks and Todd both love those trashy drama series and soaps from the 2000s, like gossip girl, greys anatomy, stuff like that.

Charlie, Knox, and Meeks occasionally quote regular show to each other. Neil always gets the jokes because, despite not watching cartoon network regularly, he did ask for a regular show box set one time for christmas because the show always stuck with him after watching it during play dates at Charlie’s place.

Neil and Knox LOVE pintrest

Knox had a yubo account at some point 💔

Pitts loved rosanna pansino and learnt how to bake because of her, so now after years of practice he makes elaborately themed birthday cakes for each of the poets every year. However, every year on his own birthday, the poets have to try and coordinate a birthday cake for Pitts, and despite there being six of them it always turns out shitty but Pitts wouldn’t have it any other way.

Cameron unironically watches Mr Beast

Charlie used to naruto run when he was younger (me too bud 😔)

As well as being into drones (see part 1), Meeks is SUPER into lego; this mf has a room in his house dedicated to lego because there just wasn’t enough space anymore in his bedroom. He has all the massive sets, the lego ideas sets, the technic sets, the flower sets, and he’s definitely a DC lover so trust he has all the batman sets (the batcave, the batmobile etc), and so many more.

Charlie occasionally orders uber eats to Helton.

[th3-bl00d-on-yr-hands-rom3o]

Ok but twitterverse is like, canon. like Party Poison and Cherri Cola and Doctor Death Defying canonnically have either phones or computers or whatever, which they use to post, regularly, about their lives and other random bullshit. Enough with the radioing each other PARTY POISON HAS A PHONE. THINK ABOUT IT. None of the rest of the fab four have twitter so i imagine it's like when you're the only person in your friend group who is on tumblr and everyone makes fun of you for it. Do you recon twitter is one of the last remaining sites that's like, not totally overrun by Better Living, (ie. owned by meta in real world terms) and it's like super old and like dumb so no one cares, like it's like tumblr today. Like are you picking up what I'm putting down. Cherri Cola is cannonically a tumblr poet. Please someone write a fic where the fab four get in a firefight and then Party pulls out their phone and is like "omg gotta tweet about this" and Kobra's like "why are you still on that goddamn app in 2019"

[mariacallous]

The “transgender tipping point,” in the words of Time magazine, supposedly came in 2014, when trans adults living proudly public lives began showing up regularly on mainstream screens. Such figures are still around—one is even in Congress. And yet, we seem to be tipping the other way. Laws regulating which bathrooms trans people can use are back. The Trump administration is kicking us out of the military. And in United States v. Skrmetti, the Supreme Court okayed state bans on gender-affirming care for trans minors.

Sometimes I think a lot of people want us to disappear. Others will tolerate us without acceptance: If you must be trans, you can have basic rights, but don’t encourage it, and for God’s sake don’t flaunt it. And yet, we’re still here, and still visible, especially among the young. UCLA’s Williams Institute estimated in 2022 that 1.6 million Americans 13 or older identified as trans: 14 per 1,000 kids ages 13 to 17 and 13 per 1,000 for young adults ages 18 to 24, compared with about five in 1,000 for adults 25 to 64. In a survey last year, Gallup found that 1.3 percent of adults identify as trans. Some writers see in such numbers a fad, or a bubble. Others see gender-affirming care, as recommended by mainstream medical associations in many countries, as the best way to the most fulfilling adulthood, and the least painful teenage experience.

To trans adults like me, some self-described skeptics look less like truth-tellers than like merchants of doubt: The debate around trans issues feels analogous to the ones around climate change, or vaccines. When you’re not winning an argument, you say nobody should act without further study, or demand unattainable certainties. It’s tough for people who’ve taken a position—doctors who speak out against trans-affirming care, or parents who feel sure they’re raising a girl—to change their beliefs. Those who do shift their views often do so not by comparing numbers, but by asking why they believe what they believe, what they want, and what other people can show them firsthand. Clouds and vaccines can’t talk. But trans people can.

I’m one. I lived out a closeted transgender childhood in the 1970s and adolescence in the ’80s, when transition wasn’t remotely an option. I felt grindingly frustrated by my own body, and my male social role, almost all the time. And I got lucky. I remember grade school as a sustained misery that kind adults tried to remedy, enlivened by two close male friends, assorted special interests (minerals, chemistry), and stacks of comic books. My teen years brought dramatic improvements: I found teachers who supported my reading and writing. I made friends with girls who trusted me with their secrets, even if I could not trust them with mine. I threw myself into televised quiz competitions (sometimes my team even won). In college, I learned how to put on a radio show (one way to feel heard while nobody sees your body). And I found supportive professors, and a path to one, then another, great job. Then, in my 40s, I realized I’d always feel disembodied, unsatisfied, not quite real, if I kept on trying to live as a man. I wore dresses and lipstick on special occasions; I talked, and wrote, about how I felt, without getting doctors involved. Then, one day, my spouse remarked that I’d be happier if I could just live as a woman. Everything suddenly seemed to come together for me: I felt like a crystal dropped in a supersaturated solution. I made an appointment for hormones that same day. Eight years on, I know I made the right choice.

Quick digression: During the Second World War, the Pentagon had to decide where to put armor on Air Force planes. Military brass expected to fortify airplanes’ wings, because most of the planes they saw had been struck there. Then the mathematician Abraham Wald explained why they should armor the engines instead: The generals had counted only the planes that came back. That’s called survivorship bias. If Wald hadn’t countered it, the Allied forces could have lost a lot more planes.

In Wald’s terms, I’m one of the planes that came back. I’m the best case you can find, or something close to it, for growing up trans without trans-affirming care. You might think that I, and trans adults like me, are a good case for making kids wait to transition: I had to wait, and I turned out okay. But that’s survivorship bias. Other kids who grew up with my gender, without my advantages, probably resigned themselves to their assigned gender role and their frustrating fate; there’s no way to count them in retrospect. And I know that if I could have lived as a girl—if I’d had access to gender-affirming care in grade school, in middle school, in high school—I would have made more friends, and learned more sooner, and avoided countless hours rereading the fiction of James Tiptree Jr., wondering why its unease around bodies and gender and its themes of self-annihilation spoke so strongly to me.

It’s possible that adults like me, as well as the internet, by providing non-gloomy examples, encourage some teens to see themselves as trans who would otherwise just go on living cis lives. You can’t prove a negative. But you can seek parallels. Consider the risks involved in coming out as a gay teen in 1965 versus 1985, or in 2025. No wonder we see more gay teens now than I did back then.

Wary parents might answer that cis gay kids do not ask to alter their bodies. Nor, generally, do trans, maybe-trans, or gender-nonconforming children in grade school, where care means social transition: names, pronouns, clothes, a safe place to use the bathroom. Acceptance for social transition—hence for kids who want time to figure things out—might even slow down demands for endocrinology, by showing that you can be a girl, a boy, neither, or both, even if you don’t get doctors’ help right away. Several new works of young-adult fiction showcase exactly that kind of acceptance among teens and tweens.

That said, with puberty, things change. Going through the wrong one hurts—and not just in the way that puberty is terribly awkward for pretty much everyone. It turns what could be exploration and self-discovery into concealment and needless sadness. Gender-affirming medical intervention, for teens, almost always means puberty blockers (the same drugs used for cis kids’ precocious puberty) or hormones. Less frequently, it might mean surgical intervention. But more breast and chest surgeries (including reduction and augmentation) are performed on cisgender girls, and on cisgender guys with gynecomastia, than on trans minors; bottom surgery on minors happens very rarely. Youth who choose gender transition report, overwhelmingly, that they’re satisfied; the Kaiser Family Foundation dismisses as misinformation claims about high rates of regret.

Cis parents of trans kids often get warned about suicide, just as straight parents of gay kids got warned years ago. A better discussion would be whether parents want their kid to be sad, or withdrawn, or feel locked into a numb life, when they could learn how to flourish and find joy instead. Teen suicide is hard to study: Reporting is poor, and there aren’t many. We can, though, examine suicidal feelings, depression, self-harm. Studies exist on all these subjects. And despite disputes over data quality, most of them tend to agree that gender-affirming care works at improving mental health in dysphoric teens. Better yet, we can study—and encourage—acceptance, fulfillment, and joy. Most trans kids who hate their body, as I did, will not take their life. They might think about it, though, as I did. And they might undergo years of needless sadness, loneliness, and fear because they’ve been told, in 2025, to wait, and wait, and wait some more, for help they can already see.

[freelobotomiesinthebasement]

I’ve been thinking about the important things…

What type of car would LotR/TH characters drive? (TW: mentions of alcohol)

Aragorn -> off white jeep wrangler. The back window is covered in bumper stickers. The seats are white leather. If you get the seats dirty he’ll kick you out. If you call the car white he’ll lecture you about how it’s off white. He gets to control the radio unless you’re Arwen. Stops for all squirrels

Boromir -> Black off-brand Cybertruck that actually work and wasn’t made by a nazi. It has tinted windows. Tries to make it look tough on the outside. On the inside, the seats are covered in crumbs, there’s at least two half drank Red Bulls at all times. No one can touch the radio but the hobbits and Faramir. Road rage to the max.

Faramir -> kind of beat up grey Range Rover. Nothing special about it because he doesn’t want to bother anybody. Definitely picks up hitchhikers, probably tried to help them with their life troubles. Will let you use the radio, won’t judge you. Probably listens to imagine dragons. Follows traffic laws. Keeps his car clean. He’s a very courteous driver. Never honks, never curses.

Frodo -> Green Kia Fiat. Tan leather seats. One of those fuzzy steering wheel covers. Probably has a green worm on a string in that spot under the windshield. Anyone can touch the radio and he won’t judge your music taste because he’s so sweet. Religiously follows traffic laws, even the ones everybody else breaks. Stops for all squirrels. The cops love him.

Gandalf -> permanently borrowed light grey Lamborghini that’s suspiciously good for off roading. It smells like smoke. Need I say more?

Gimli -> vintage stick shift convertible jeep (but like, in a cool way). Definitely has off roading tires. I’d say the car itself is white. It’s somehow still in perfect condition. He probably engages in drag races with it when Legolas is in the car, but other than that he usually obeys most laws. Except he usually has a beer bottle in the console.

Legolas -> Green Outback Subaru. The cars muddy all over, there’s a bow in the backseat. He’ll slap you if you touch it. It smells like the wild animals he gives rides to regularly. Definitely has one of those tree air fresheners. Lots of bumper stickers. Probably at least one plant. He won’t let anyone touch the radio and only listens to the most obscure music ever. If he gets pulled over, he definitely starts insulting the cops on their driving skills, giving them a whole list of ways they could do better. Breaks for literal bugs. Has jumped out of his car to look at a cool tree before. More than once.

Merry and Pippin -> they own a beat up Prius together. They try to ram people off the road with it. They succeed more than they should considering they drive a Prius. What are traffic laws? They don’t know. Beer cans in the center console. At least ten more on the floor.

Sam -> Minivan, probably silver. Full of crumbs that are NOT his. The drivers seat is clean and nowhere else. He’s basically always the designated driver. Definitely uses car air fresheners. Has anything you could need in the center console. Cops love him, never pulled over, when he is he always pays and apologizes, probably gives them cookies or some shit too.

Bilbo -> red Mini Cooper convertible. Road rage almost as bad as Boromir. Sings along to the radio. Always has some kind of food. Has tree air freshener. Gas tank always full.

Thorin -> Black toyota tundra. Family bumper sticker on back. Truck bed is empty, he lets Kili and Fili ride in it sometimes. Sword in the front passenger seat. He’ll only move it for Bilbo. Hella road rage. Has probably rammed someone before. Multiple someone’s. Knows where all the speed traps are (Bilbo found out and told him) and avoids them. Cars probably muddy af from off roading.

Kili -> gold motorcycle with cringe bumper stickers. Muddy as hell, doesn’t know what a helmet is. Regularly tries to drag race cops. Has won multiple times. Definitely does wheelies to impress girls. Actually pretty good rider. Not by the laws standards though. Was offered a car but liked his motorcycle better.

Fili -> matte gold BMW. Great driver, just don’t ask the police. Loves off roading in it. Keeps it actually clean. Goes through police chases for fun. Little bit of road rage. Definitely drifts regularly. Always has it in turbo mode. Always. Probably has a tower of Pizza Hut boxes in the trunk.

Thranduil -> bright gold Bugatti with rainbow strobe led lights wrapped around on the floor. Bottle of champagne in the console, perpetually. Says he’s not drinking it but the bottles half empty and there’s no cork in sight. Blaring basic white girl pop. Also in the center console: a hair brush, moisturizer, sunscreen, and party glasses. You will get slapped if you touch he radio. Only bard can ride in it with him now that Legolas has a car.

Bard -> also a motorcycle guy, except it’s because he couldn’t afford a car and now Thranduil drives him most places. He has a little bit of road rage and probably runs on solely caffeine while driving. Usually has grocery bags and stuff hanging from the handle bars. Does not follow traffic laws he thinks are stupid. Not reckless on the motorcycle. Wears proper safety gear.

[alevolpe]

If Makoto and Ami are a baker and her doctor wife, what jobs do the other sailor scouts have?

Also what medical specialty is Dr. Mizuno in? (Dr. Kino? Who took whose last name?)

Oh, good question!

I see Usagi becoming a mangaka assistant! We've seen Usagi being quite the talented artist in canon, and she obviously loves reading manga, so I can pretty easily see her turning that into a career. That said, she might dip her toes a few times on making her own manga, but given the extremely strenous work hours, I don't see her publishing anything more than a pretty popular short series and a few one shots. She decides to stick mostly with assistant jobs.

I can easily see Rei just sticking to being a priestess at Hikawa Shrine. There's ups and downs about it, but I do believe she genuinely cares for the temple and keeping up its legacy after her grandfather's passing. Will it be her forever goal? Maybe not. Maybe later in life, she chooses to embark on a different path, perhaps being the singer she always dreamed of becoming.

Mina is all over the freaking place. This might be a bit of a controversial take, but I never really see her blowing up, as to say. She never becomes the biggest idol ever, like she always dreamed of, and that's not even from lack of trying. Some of her songs do go viral, but I just don't believe she's really cut for it at the end. She branches out and becomes a bit of a niche micro celebrity, mostly online, but makes the occasional radio and TV appearances. She mostly writes and performs her own songs and participates in popular radio broadcasts and podcasts. Still pays the bills, but won't cause her to get swarmed from just walking out in public.

Michiru has enough wealth and affluence to be able to live in luxury her whole life and the next 10+ generations to come without moving a single finger, but that's not what she wants. She just keeps on creating. Music, art, you name it. She just has an endless passion and appreciation for it. It makes her money, yes, but that's not her job really. She does it because she loves it.

Haruka.. I mean, Haruka lives in luxury as well. I think I said this before, but I see Haruka coming from an incredibly poor upbringing. She's basically as rich as she is because of Michiru and she's always very grateful and humble for her position. She doesn't become a race car driver (idk if people know how much you have to put into that career, it basically becomes your whole life and takes YEARS AND YEARS of training). I simply see her helping out her local garage shop regularly. When you're that rich, you can kind of do whatever you want, but Haruka's no slacker. She loves feeling useful and helping others.

Now, if you ask me personally, I see Ami being either a trauma surgeon or a brain surgeon. I know canonically she wants to be a pediatrician, but my Ami is a bit different. She's not nearly as apt with kids as her canon counterpart. Saeko before her being one of the most influential and renowned neurosurgeons in Japan.

Answering your last question.. I genuinely could swing either way. On one hand, Ami keeping her mother's last name (yes, it's her mother's, not her father's, idc) is very important, not only to her as her mother's daughter, but also as a form of respect and tradition to her family before her. Saeko, having kept her last name from her own father. It has become a bit of a status symbol in the medical and scientific fields, which Ami would only work to strengthen even further.

On the other hand, Kino has endless value to Makoto. In many ways, it's the most meaningful and everlasting memento left by her parents. It's a promise. A promise to stay true to herself, to be kind and to be brave, like her parents always taught her. It would be hard for her to let go of it, but it's a struggle that would die at her lips forever. She would never voice it to Ami. There's some problems that Mako will always just choose to deal with by herself.

All that said, I personally tend to default to Ami keeping her last name, Dr. Mizuno.