#and by the time you can retire and actually have free time you're too old and sickly to enjoy it

[cheekblush]

so how are you supposed to get anything done when you work 40 hours a week?

[wordstome]

COD Men as Dream Daddy DILFs

Call of Duty single dads x gn!single parent reader

⤐Characters: 141 + König + Horangi + Keegan

⤐Premise: You just moved into a neighborhood with a high population of retired military personnel.

*glances at my 3-4 wips* let's talk about some dilfs, shall we? ...Don't look at me. I had a vision. (No relation to the actual characters from Dream Daddy, just a similar premise) Also a disclaimer: I'm writing these dads mostly in their late 30s to 40s, but don't think about their ages and the ages of their kids too much. This is all vibes. And sorry ahead of time if I gave one of the kids the same name as you 💀 Feel free to imagine the kid has a different name because the names really don't matter

p.s. I wanted to write more characters but I had to reel myself in. I could be persuaded to write a part 2 with Vaqueros, Nikolai, Valeria, Nikto, and other Ghosts tbh

Warning: this shit is LENGTHY. Strap yourself in.

Price: A post about DILFs and you expect me not to start with Captain John Price? Price is the lynchpin of this cul de sac. He's the one inviting everyone over to the barbecue, tries to get the dads to get along, and gives everyone advice. He has the quintessential dad energy. He 100% slaps his knees and says "well!" when he gets up. Price also has major girl dad energy. He's got three adorable little ladies, aged 3 (Clara), 9 (Brianna), and 11 (Alice). Yes, he did name his daughters in ABC order, I can see him doing that. Oh, he dotes on his girls, and they love their dad endlessly. He's the model father: recitals, sports, parent teacher conferences, you name it, he's there.

That's how the two of you meet: he comes up to you at one of the aforementioned events and gives you a firm handshake and apologizes profusely for not coming around to introduce himself earlier. It's not like him not to at least swing by, and he hopes you can forgive him the discourtesy. He hands you his number and says anything you need, just give him a call, or maybe swing by for a beer sometime. He gives you a wink that makes your knees weak, a wink that says he definitely noticed you checking out his muscled arms and broad shoulders. Maybe you will swing by for that beer sometime—and maybe get a little more than just a drink.

Ghost: I could see Simon having a one night stand kid. He certainly never saw himself starting a family after he lost his last one, but he was stressed and probably piss drunk as well. Years and years later, he's back from deployment and finds a social worker with a boy on his doorstep, and the rest is history. I love the idea of Simon with a moody 16 year old, but I actually see Simon and his son having the same dynamic as Mike and Abby Schmidt from the FNAF movie. Since Simon wasn't around for Caden's early childhood, they have a relationship that's undeniably father and son, but leaning towards casual and sibling-like. Simon's figuring his shit out, dealing with his PTSD and the various lasting health issues his time in special forces has left him with, and Caden's a quiet, sensitive 10 year old boy who thinks the world of his dad.

You meet Simon at the local bar. His Ghost days are long behind him, but the balaclava's a hard habit to kick. Besides, he doesn't need people staring at his scars. He's usually there with the 141, but today he's alone, and looks like he could use some company. You sit up at the bar close to him and order a drink, but you don't disturb him, and he visibly relaxes when he realizes you're not going to try to make small talk. It becomes a routine, the two of you: always sharing a quiet drink together at the bar, and then both of you wordlessly go home to your kids. You have a sort of silent conversation every time: Good to see you again. Yeah, you too. Neither of you actually speak a word to the other until Price introduces you to him at a gathering, and you finally hear his voice. "We've met before," he says, with a glint in his eye that suggests perhaps he'd like to be more than just a silent drinking buddy. That's fine with you: you're dying to see what's under the mask and dark hoodie.

Soap: JOCK ALERT. Johnny's basically Craig from Dream Daddy: total dreamboat who goes on runs around the neighborhood and gets all the appreciative looks from the local moms. He thrives on the attention in a way that definitely makes the 141 roll their eyes. He's got an older little girl named Elodie, and a lil baby boy Thomas that he takes everywhere with him. Obviously he's just being a responsible parent taking care of an infant, but secretly, Thomas is a great conversation starter with aforementioned local moms.

Conversely however, it's Johnny who makes the move on you first. Maybe in the grocery store, maybe at one of Price's get-togethers. Sidles up to you and introduces himself with a look in his eye that means trouble. Only the good kind of trouble, of course. If you reciprocate and he finds out you're single, you're not getting rid of him. But why would you want to, anyway? He's endlessly charming, attentive, and good with his hands. When he's fixing a leaky tap for you, of course—what did you think I meant?

Gaz: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is a fucking heartthrob. I'm saying it right here, right now. He's a walks in with flowers, makes you dinner kind of partner. Also househusband vibes, because, surprise: Kyle is still married. This isn't a Joseph (Dream Daddy) situation, though: he and his wife, Emily, have known each other for a long time, a very high school sweethearts situation. Over the years, though, they drifted apart with Kyle in the military, and Emily eventually realized she's not actually into men. They're still married for coparenting purposes: they've got an older teenage girl named Violet, and a younger boy named Elliott. (Yes, I'm naming him after Elliot Knight, sue me.)

Honestly, I think it would be HILARIOUS if you met Kyle on a dating app and realized he's your next-door neighbor. But however you guys meet, Kyle is an old-school courter kind of guy. He is taking you on dinner dates, listening to you rant about your day, and is on your doorstep in a heartbeat when you call him in a panic because your kid's running a 105 fever (41 in Celsius) and you need a ride to the emergency room. (Not that the other dads wouldn't do the same, but I'm trying to convey "most reliable man in the world" vibes here.)

König: Y'all...you don't know how much fucken time I've spent thinking about this man as a dad. He's in the same boat as Ghost where he never saw himself living long enough to start a family, but here he is with the most precious little girl you've ever laid eyes on. Ava's got her father's curly hair and big green eyes, and she has her dad wrapped around her pinky finger. For König, Ava is living proof that he's capable of being more than just a tool for violence.

You meet König through Ava, of course. Your kids are the closest of friends, and the two of them are constantly going over to each other's houses. You're obviously delighted that your kid is making new friends and fitting in so well, but you'd be lying if your heart didn't skip a beat whenever you open your door to see Ava's six foot ten dad standing there with soft eyes and a sheepish smile. I have to stop here, because I've already written an extra paragraph for this man that I've cut out and pasted for safekeeping in my notes app, and if encouraged I will write more. (Please encourage me.)

Horangi: I know we already had a sort of Robert (Dream Daddy) figure with Ghost, but I think Horangi is a dad whose kid is an adult, much like Robert and Val. I also think that out of all the dads, Horangi is likely the one who's still doing some level of military work. Either that, or he has a very demanding job that takes up a lot of his time. He's ashamed of the way he let his gambling affect his family in the past, and is making up for it by being responsible and keeping his finances in order.

You don't meet him until you've lived in the neighborhood for quite a while, but he pops up at a gathering, talking quietly with König in a corner. You'd thought you had met every neighbor in the cul de sac, so you're intrigued by the newcomer. Someone, probably Price, tells you what Hong-jin's deal is, and ever since that you just can't keep your eyes off of him. You can't quite work up the nerve to talk to him, so you occupy yourself talking with the other parents. Some time later, you're at the food table grazing on the snacks when you look up and make eye contact with him. There's something intense in his gaze that makes you freeze, like a deer in headlights. He's definitely checking you out, you think. Your chest erupts into nervous butterflies when he starts walking towards you.

Keegan: Keegan is an adoptive father! I love his dynamic with the Walker boys, so I can see him being the kind of guy who adopts an older teenager so they have a home and a family instead of aging out of the system. Jason and Cecelia are high school age siblings who would have been separated otherwise, and consider Keegan their dad in every way that's important.

I think you and Keegan are definitely rivals in some way. Maybe it's a PTO thing, maybe he gets a little too boisterous at your kids' sports game. Whatever it is, you can't stand the man, but your annoyance whenever he's around only seems to amuse him. You have no problem saying to his face exactly what you think about him, but unfortunately, Keegan can see right through you. And hey, Cecelia could use some experience as a babysitter, so you won't have to worry about spending the night over at his place, will you?

As always, I wanna hear peoples' thoughts and feedback! If you want to hear more about these dads, drop me an ask <3

[wombywoo]

Hello!!

I wanted to ask if you would be willing to share how you go about finding the references for the injuries you depict in your work? Your pieces where the CoD boys are sporting injuries, fresh and old, are always so lifelike and to my untrained eye seem entirely medically correct.

I have been trying my hand at drawing the boys retired and resting as well, but I’m finding it difficult to decide what work injuries to add and how to find the respective references.

How do you decide what injuries to portray? And how do you go about finding the reference material?

Your huge fan, amustikas

Oooh ok ok! I'm gonna post my answer publically because I think others would find this interesting too!

To preface, I am definitely NOT a medical professional, and as such, a lot of the stuff I choose to depict in my art is not so much..ah, medically accurate as it is....aesthetically pleasing 🤭

I'll start with scars, as a lot of us enjoy slashing up Simon's face with them, lol. Generally, I'll do a cursory google image search for the type of scar I'm looking for (be warned, these can be graphic) with searches like 'burn scar' 'surgery scar' etc. But I find that for things like cuts and lacerations, real-life scars are a bit innocuous and lame 🤷‍♀️ Unfortunately not everyone's skin wants to retain that perfect slash look™️😔

So what I usually end up referencing are costume prosthetic scars ✨

As you can see, they're pretty gnarly:

And you definitely don't have to go this intense, but I find that the dramatic, carved-like appearance of these translate better to art than a realistically healed wound 🤙

The other thing to consider is the prevalence of injuries in the military. From what I've gathered, the most common will be back/shoulder/limb injuries, just a general fucking up of the whole musculoskeletal system in general due to constant overuse 🤕 Hearing loss, shrapnel/blast/burn injuries are also common, as well as all the negative psychological effects :') goooood times (not)

I think it's neat to look up real-life examples of these things, but it can get a bit intense if you're squeamish...

SafeSearch is OFF, the horrors are REal 😳

So yeah...I tend to tone things down, all things considered...😅

For this particular piece:

I researched broken humerus injuries and treatment 👍 Poor boy 🥺(Yes, I am aware that I consumed entire articles and did a shit ton of research about this just to go ahead and put a female's x-ray in this fucking picture sdfghjkl rip💀😭)

But here you can see the actual process for applying the brace for this particular injury:

Neat, eh?

When I draw Johnny with a knee brace, it's usually a real authentic one you can buy on amazon:

Product placement blast!!!💥✨ Bezos, where is my cut?? 🫰

As for ones like this:

I tend to just...scatter some wounds around and patch them up accordingly, lol. Bruising around the eyes is common with any head injury, and surgical stitching will offer a nice puckered skin effect mmm 👌 (I swear I'm normal abt this)

I'm sure the medical malpractice lawsuits are stacking up for me now, but again--it's usually more about the ✨visuals✨

My parting advice would be--go nuts! Feel free to maim and mutilate and mangle to your heart's content 🥰

Thank you for the question, Amustikas! I love your art as well 💗🫶

[bigfan-fanfic]

Back Into Trouble (Winchester!Reader x Winchester Bros PLATONIC)

A sequel to Brother Mine

This fic takes place somewhere near the end of season 1, after episode 19 but before episode 20. In addition, there's a song called Brother Mine that is really sweet and cute especially if put into this context of being Sam and Dean's, but especially Dean's, older brother. "I know that I sit and I worry too much/Especially when you come home such a sight/But I guess what you've got to do, boy, you go ahead and do it/And I sure hope things will be all right"

You may not have enjoyed returning to hunting, but you're damn good at it.

Although it's made even more frustrating when your father actually calls in.

You're not so thrilled about continuing on this... gallivanting cross-country, especially when John is chasing down the demon that killed your mother.

But Sam seems to have come to terms with it, though you honestly feel like that might have more to do with his desire to avenge Jess.

The real problem you see with your little brothers is their inability to let go.

You had all been raised by John in the hunting lifestyle, the family business.

But it's been decades since your mother's death. A horrible thing, that you have had to come to terms with having no real answers for.

And you can understand the desire for vengeance, for a clear-cut answer that will "solve everything."

It won't.

Something you've tried to get your brothers to think about is the future. About what they want out of their lives.

Because you remember how it was, living completely in the moment, day to day, hunt to hunt. And it was Bobby who pointed out that you had potential, that you deserved a life, if not now, then at least the promise of one.

So you convince them to take a rest in Massachusetts after leaving a hunt. Just to take a couple of days for hanging out.

Dean wants to see the Cheers bar and Sam wants to visit the Old North Church, so you get an actual hotel suite in Boston.

You check in with your colleagues and employees, apologizing for being incommunicado for so long. Thankfully the hotel has a business center with a fax machine you can sign invoices and contracts with.

Dean looks at you curiously. "So... you really did just... start a business?"

"Technically I bought it out from the owner who wanted to retire. So more... maintaining."

"You really are just... out of the life."

"I was, til you two called me."

"...sorry." Dean mumbles, and you grab his shoulder.

"Don't be. I was never doing this for Dad. I'm here for you and for Sammy."

Dean nods thoughtfully.

"You saw him. With that girl at the art gallery. He liked her. She liked him."

"Yeah."

"And you... with Cassie."

"Your point being?"

"Life keeps building off-ramps for you but you keep on truckin down this road."

Dean scowls. "Look, I'm not stupid. I know this life is dangerous. I know my days are probably numbered. But I'm making a difference. I'm saving people."

"What about you?"

He blinks. "What about me?"

"I'm done trying to force you out of the life, Dean. It's your choice. When we finally deal with all this shit - when the bastard that killed Mom is dead and you and Sam are finally free... I'm not gonna stop you if you go back to hunting."

"You're not?"

You nod. "But I'll be damned if I'm gonna lose contact with you again. I'll be there when you need a place to crash or a voice to call. Maybe you'll even visit me.

"Just... I need you to promise me you're not gonna run yourself into the ground. None of this has been your fault. It's not your fault about Mom, and it wasn't your fault I left, and it's not your fault that Dad couldn't really be a dad to us."

Dean wants to protest but you shush him. "You're gonna do what you do. And I'm gonna stop hunting again. For good this time. But when you decide it's time to come home... I hope you come to me, little brother."

You stand up then, leaving Dean to his thoughts. He's quiet for the rest of the day, but you feel an almost companionable nature to the silence.

And just maybe, after this all... maybe your brothers will follow you away from the things that go bump in the night.

[denny-artsss]

Caine throws a "prom night" as the adventure and Gangle (reluctantly) agreed to be Jax's date and Jax basically shuts down because he did NOT expect Gangle to look that good in a dress, like DAMN

Caine: HELLO EVERYONE!! I HAVE SOMETHING SPECIAL PLANNED FOR TONIGHT!

Jax: you're gonna learn to speak in your inside voice?

Caine: SILLY JAX! THIS IS MY INSIDE VOICE! NOW! WERE GONNA HAVE A PROM NIGHT!

Zooble: what are we school girls? Ragatha and Gangle be playing bingo like they're in a retirement home.

Ragatha: we play cause its fun not cause were old.

Gangle: bingo-

Caine: COME ON IT WILL BE FUN! YOU CAN DRESS UP IN DRESSES AND COSTUMES! ITS TONIGHT AT 8!

Jax: is it mandatory to show up?

Caine: YES! ITS ALSO MANDATORY TO HAVE A PARTNER!

*everyone finds a partner except Gangle and Jax*

Gangle: *slowly backs away*

Jax: *pulls her close* Gangle! My best friend!

Gangle: *raises an eyebrow*

Jax: best- frienemy? Whatever. You coming to prom with me.

Gangle: that sounded more like a statement than a question.

Jax: UGH YOURE SO PRETENTIOUS! FINE! oh my dear Gangle, light of my life, would you make me the HUGE honor of going to Caines stupid prom with me? *ironic*

Gangle: you forgot to drop on your knees and beg

Jax: YES OR NO

Gangle: *sighs* I would've gone with you anyway. There's no one left, big brain. But thanks for humiliating yourself I guess.

Jax: whatever. Have fun finding something to put on that body of yours. We'll see who's gonna be humiliated. *walks away laughing*

*Gangle walks with the others to look for something to wear*

Gangle: I'm not forgiving you guys for leaving me to be his date for prom.

Zooble: a risk I'm willing to take as long as I'm Jax-free.

Ragatha: yeah sorry Gangle. My Hate for Jax is bigger than my love for you.

Gangle: that's understandable. *picks up a nice black dress and puts it on* huh- this doesn't look too bad does it?

Ragatha: no it actually looks really good! Here- *hands her some accesories* ooo

Zooble: Gangle trust me.you don't need to get this dressed. Jax will probably just show up in his pajamas.

Gangle: pfft. Like If i was dressing for him anyway- *admires herself in the mirror*

Zooble: I think ill just slap a tie on and call it a day.

-time skip-

Jax: *knocks at Gangles door* you abstracted yet?

Gangle: I wish. *opens the door and looks at him* wow you actually put on some decent clothing-

Jax: ah this? I just stole it from those 2 npcs having a wedding now the groom is naked.

Gangle: there was a whole box of costumes downstairs. *steps out of her room into the light*

Jax: *stares at her, a blush creeping on his face*

Gangle: what? Does it look wierd?..

Jax: no- no it looks- *cleans his throat* it looks good- *hands her a red rose*

Gangle: *smiles softly and puts it on top of her head* how do I look?

Jax: beauti- I mean you look okay- *comes closer and wipes the running mascara off her face*

Gangle: I shouldn't have put make up on with my tragedy mask.

Jax: what happened to your comedy mask?

Gangle: Caine keeps forgetting to fix it-

Caine: DID SOMEONE MENTION MY NAME? MY MY! YOU BOTH LOOK STUNNING- oh wow Gangle I don't think that dress is prom appropriate

Gangle: huh? *looks down*

Jax: SHUT UP CAINE SHUT UP I WILL FORCE FEED YOU DENTAL FLOSS SHUT UP.

Caine: alright then-

Gangle: *walks with him to the prom* wow you must really like this dress-

Jax: *blushes embarrassed* yeah well- I also just really DISlike Caine.

Bubble: does this mean you're my date for the prom Caine?

Caine: ... *pops bubble*

.

(Also heres a drawing of her in the prom dress)

Yes I used this as am excuse to draw Gangle in yet another dress.

[maja0678]

HC: Arwen wrote to Sauron when she was a child.

She thought he was something like Santa. Elrond made a joke about 'the Lord of Gifts' during a dinner with Galadriel and Celeborn, but when she asked about it, they didn't want to scare her so they said he was someone that would give out gifts if you've been good.

Little Arwen took it too seriously. She desperately wanted a collection of Tuor's songs and poems... And she wrote Sauron about it:

Dear Lord of Gifts,

My name is Arwen Undomíel. I am 23 years old, and I have wishes for the next gifting season! Well, actually I have only one wish; a collection of Tuor's poems and songs (he's my great-grandfather!). Father says you give out gifts to good children, and I think I've been good this year (the incident with Elladan wasn't my fault). So I hope that you can make some time free and gift me a collection of Tuor's poems and songs!

Greetings, Arwen Undomíel

*She hit Elladan with a stick after he destroyed her doll.

And of course, no gift comes. Years later, she's terrified of writing him, but she never tells anyone (except for Aragorn, but he can laugh about it).

But then, after her marriage with Aragorn and the defeat of Sauron, she and her fresh husband go through Saruman's old stuff with Gandalf. When they come to his library, Aragorn says; "You can take some of those books, since you like reading, my dear." To which Arwen smiles, and starts going through the books while Gandalf and Aragorn are studying Saruman's personal notes. There's many books, but one big, quite old, blue book catches her attention: A Collection Of Tuor's Songs And Poems, the book she wrote Sauron about. She picks it up- sentimental as she is- and open it. On the first page, a paper is stuck in between. A letter.

Dear Arwen,

I think your father has not told you everything. I used to be the Lord of Gifts, but... I fear that I am retired, and no one writes me. However, I did have the book you wanted, and since I find no more delight in reading anymore, I think you can have it. But this probably won't reach you, and if it does, you're older, and you probably look back with shame on your letter.

-the Lord of Gifts (retired).

And Arwen can't help but smile. She takes it to Aragorn and Gandalf, and says; "Just this one," with her sweet, Luthien-kinda-smile.

"That's the one you wanted as a child," Aragorn says.

"Yes, it is." She says with a smile.

Inspired by the santatar art😍

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddiemas challenge.

Permanent 99

Prompt Day 30: Smut Themed Sentence Starters | Word Count: 2811 | Rating: E | CW: Sexual Content, 18+ Only | Tags: Sports AU, Swimming AU, Modern Setting, Eddie & Gareth are BFFs, Olympic Swimmers, Heat Wave, Outdoor Fooling Around, Blowjob, Eddie POV

This follows my Sports AU drabble from @steddieholidaydrabbles where they were Olympic Swimmers, but can be read standalone.

This one is also available right here on AO3.

we're hot and sticky as we can get, don't need to go swimming to be soakin' wet, you lean in and you bite my lip, it's hard to be cool in heat like this, sweat drop at the end of your nose, makes you lose your mind and lose your clothes Christian Kane, Permanent 99

Eddie rests his forearm over his eyes, attempting to block out the way too bright sun and wipe the sweat away from his forehead at the same time. 

The strips of cheap vinyl from the PVC lounger are sticking to his bare back and he can't seem to shift in any way to get comfortable with the feeling. Steve is worth millions, but he's dragged out some old as shit, tri-fold lounge chairs from last century. They had to have been stashed in his parents' pool house, left over from the eighties, faded from sun and years of disuse. If Eddie's going to be subjected to the summer sun, he's definitely gonna need a newer chair, because this is really not working for him. 

He's sticking to it in ways that feel really gross.

That has a lot to do with the fact that it's so humid it's almost insufferable. The glare off of the water isn't helping matters. It's blinding him, even through his sunglasses. They've spent a lifetime looking at pool water, so Eddie's not entirely sure why they're still doing it now, on their own time.

“It’s hot as shit,” Eddie finally announces, moving his arm just enough to catch a glimpse of Steve next to him.

Steve smiles, seemingly unconcerned by the unrelenting heat. 

He's tanned, and glistening in the sun, looking every bit of a Greek god. That bastard.

Eddie's actually seen Steve in Athens, at the fucking Olympiad itself, and he damn well didn't look anything like he does right now. Steve was only nineteen then, still just a kid chasing a dream. And, now he's a man. A gorgeous man.

Eddie is pretty sure he looks like an overheated, wet cat in comparison. A pitiful thing that probably just needs put down.

But Eddie grins, because retirement looks good on Steve Harrington. Damn good. Retired before thirty. That's quite the thing to wrap his head around. 

But that's not going to stop Eddie's complaining.

“From now on, summer months will be spent strictly indoors. It's too hot, and I’m too pale for this,” Eddie declares, as if that is the final decision on the subject matter.

It isn't. Not if his perpetually sun-kissed boyfriend has a say in the matter.

Steve just rolls his eyes, and doesn’t look away from his magazine, "You made the worst dressed list, again," Steve offers, flashing the glossy pages in his direction. "They put you on the fug list."

Well, Eddie doesn't give a flying fug what that rag thinks. He's gonna wear what he's gonna wear. 

"And let me guess, you're in the other column?" Eddie asks, but he already knows it. Ever since they went public with their relationship after retirement, they've been tabloid fodder. Everyone has been speculating on how long this has been going on (since Athens) and how long it will last (hopefully forever) and they've picked apart every last detail of their lives they can get their hands on. And their very different style choices have been a popular topic of conversation.

Steve retired, Eddie didn't. Until he did. And now, they're both out of the meat grinder, free at last to do whatever they want to with all this brand new free time. Eddie's had fun running swim clinics for kids, and Steve has been funneling his time and money into his charitable foundation.

The rest of the time, they spend lazing together, just like this. Finally getting to really build this relationship of theirs into something even deeper, and stronger, than ever before.

They can't leave swimming, not totally. It's in their blood. But it's nice to be away from the early practices and constant sacrifices you have to make to be an Olympian, not just once, but several Games in a row.

Their not-so-secret love went public at Eddie's last Games, when Steve showed up, but kept out of the announcer's booth, and refused to be interviewed. He wasn't there for his own promo. Everybody was pissy about it, wanting a piece of him, wanting the ratings boost his voice, his face, would bring in. But Steve was only there to see Eddie, Gareth and the rest of his friends on Team USA swim, that's it.

So, it didn't take long for rumors to reach a fever pitch, and instead of denying them. They just admitted they were together, and had been, for a very long time. And now, they were looking forward to retirement, together. 

And that was that. 

They've been holed up at Steve's house ever since, trying to keep away from prying eyes, to just be together. With no other commitments. No early practices. No strict diets.

They're just Eddie and Steve. No longer Harrington and Munson.

But, Eddie's getting a little stir crazy and a lot hot. He needs to be anywhere but beside a pool right now.

“I haven’t even set foot in the goddamn pool and I’m sweating through my trunks,” Eddie whines, just making sure his opinion on the subject has been heard by Steve, loud and clear.

“Shoulda rocked the banana hammock, bro,” Steve supplies with a shrug of his shoulders, laughing loudly, totally unbothered by Eddie’s constant bitching. 

Eddie smiles, "Don't call me bro, dude."

Steve giggles, and it's the best sound. So carefree. All that weight of expectation just…gone. It was amazing to see. Retired from professional swimming, Steve doesn’t sweat the small stuff, not anymore. And Eddie is one hundred percent down for that.

"Speedos aren’t exactly casual pool wear, regardless of what you might think, Harrington,” Eddie adds.

“Sure they are,” Steve answers, waving his hand over his lap.

Eddie looks over at Steve, and lowers his sunglasses down his nose. Steve's wearing a tiny, all-white Speedo that Eddie can't look away from. It was a purposeful choice, Eddie is well aware. 

Steve's baiting him. 

And the white makes it basically see through. It’s nearly obscene and Eddie knows damn good and well Steve wore it on purpose, knowing he’d either sweat through it, and make it see through, or end up in the pool…and make it see through. 

Eddie knows this game well and it sadly always, always works on him. He's an easy mark. Always has been when it comes to Steve Harrington.

Eddie pushes his glasses back up on his face.

“You're right, the Federation should have forgotten all about the tech suits and went back to those," Eddie says, licking his lips, wetting them. Two can play at this game.

There’s a sweat drop clinging to the end of Steve’s nose and Eddie reaches over to catch it with his thumb. Raking his eyes all over Steve.

"Is this seriously turning you on?" Steve asks, lifting an eyebrow. "I'm basically wearing an old work uniform."

Eddie just nods, looking at every inch of Steve's body. Still toned, but already going slightly softer in places. Not to mention all the body hair. Steve's hairy, when the fuck did that happen? After only knowing him as the shaved and waxed swimmer, this has been a fucking revelation of a magnitude Eddie can't even put into words. 

Steve's a man. No longer the kid he was when they met, a million years and a million miles away from here.

"You're staring," Steve says, teasing him, and Eddie just nods. He's definitely staring and he'll do it some more. 

Steve smiles and sets his magazine down and crawls over onto Eddie’s lounger, straddling Eddie’s thighs. It creaks and shifts under them, and Eddie holds his breath, and prepares for the little metal legs to collapse. It doesn't, miraculously, and Steve takes Eddie's stillness for an opportunity to lean in and bite at Eddie’s bottom lip before Eddie can, well, give him any more lip. Eddie groans a little at the feeling, hands settling on Steve’s hips. Steve deepens the kiss and runs his fingers through Eddie’s sweat-damp hair.

When they finally break apart, Steve is even slicker with sweat than he was before, but he just grins down at Eddie.

“Let’s go in,” Eddie urges, thumbs tracing lazy circles on Steve’s exposed hip bones. Running his thumb over Steve's Olympic rings tattoo that's just barely peeking over the top of the tiny Speedo. 

Steve took Eddie to get his own rings tattoo after his first Olympics, and Eddie took Gareth after his. It's a sacred tradition. 

Eddie presses his thumb into the slightly faded ink, then dips it lower, stroking until he feels coarse hair under his thumb. Then, he's sliding his other hand up and down Steve's hairy thigh. More hair. Hair for days.

In fact, Steve’s chest hair is damp and right in Eddie’s face. It’s driving him a little wild. Steve spent so many years shaved, that this has been a goddamn turn on. Eddie leans forward and buries his face in Steve's chest.

Steve just laughs, and pushes Eddie back down, nipping at Eddie’s neck playfully, “S’good out here.”

“Think of the air conditioning. And the big, big bed.”

“This is bed-like,” Steve insists, reaching over and hitting the lever sending the chaise flat. The unsteady metal legs wobble comically and Eddie laughs as Steve topples over on top of him ungracefully. It's a nice change of pace, since Eddie often feels like he's the ungraceful one nearly everywhere but in the water. Always one wrong move from a trip to the E.R., while Steve stands by, shaking his head. 

Eddie’s fairly certain this flimsy-ass chair can't hold their combined weight indefinitely, even without Steve trying to fuck him through it. But he still runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, pulling him closer, encouraging him. 

He'll ride this train into the ground, without question. 

Steve closes his eyes, and grinds down against him.

Eddie grips Steve’s hips, resting his fingers against Steve’s ass, cupping him through the Speedo. When he squeezes his fingers underneath the tight material, Steve opens his eyes to meet Eddie’s, and Eddie just raises an eyebrow, questioning.

“By all means,” Steve answers, lifting up enough for them to work together to get it shimmed off his ass.

It isn’t easy. Removing a wet Speedo never is, and Steve’s wallering him in the process. Eddie almost takes a knee to the nuts, but they finally get it peeled off Steve's hips and tossed onto the ground. 

Steve unties Eddie’s trunks and pulls the Velcro closure apart loudly. He snakes his hand inside and closes his fist around him, and Eddie can’t help but buck up into the tight grip. 

“Fuck, Steve,” Eddie pants, leaning back further, enjoying the feeling.

Steve smiles and leans forward, chasing him, licking a path of sweat off of Eddie’s chest. It makes Eddie shiver unexpectedly and he can’t stop himself from tangling his hand in Steve’s hair. Urging him lower. Steve takes the hint. He always does.

He pushes apart Eddie's trunks, getting himself better access, and Eddie lifts up, to let him tug them down a little further, but not all the way off. 

Eddie groans when Steve’s mouth makes contact with his dick.

He rests his hand on Steve's head, feeling every movement from above and below. Steve's a gold medal cocksucker, that's for goddamn sure. 

"That's good, sweetheart," Eddie says, and Steve hums in acknowledgement, head moving up and down, hand doing the rest of the work in tandem. 

Eddie slides his hand down to Steve's face, pressing his palm to his stubbly cheek, and Steve changes the angle, so the head of Eddie's dick now hits the inside of his cheek with every bob of his head, bumping against Eddie's palm.

Steve's teasing him, playing with him, but it's fucking hot. 

So hot, and it's all Eddie can take, honestly, and he arches his hips off the chair, coming. 

Steve pulls off, and makes eye contact as he swipes his tongue around his mouth, gathering up Eddie's come on his tongue, which he shows Eddie, before swallowing.

"You're gonna kill me," Eddie says, as he moves to wrap his hand around Steve's hard dick, but Steve holds up one finger, wagging it at him. 

And then he slides fully on top of Eddie, and ruts into his hip. Using Eddie to get himself off.

Jesus H. Christ. 

Retired Steve is his favorite version, so far. Even more than top of the podium Steve. Or secret locker room blowjob Steve.

This version? His to keep? This is the one. 

Steve's breathing heavy into Eddie's ear, hot puffs of air and soft moans that make Eddie wish he could get hard again right now. Eddie digs his fingers into Steve's slick back, just along for the ride. Getting to enjoy the sights and sounds of Steve working hard. Breath catching with exertion. 

It's so familiar, and yet, brand new.

Steve lets out a groan in Eddie's ear, and then comes inside Eddie's shorts, and that's a new feat, for sure. 

Steve clearly doesn't give a fuck if he glues himself to Eddie's pubic hair, as he lays down on Eddie fully. Naked, sated and happy. This is the kind of hot Eddie isn't going to complain about. 

He almost says so, when he feels the whoosh of air blow past his arm before there’s a splash in the pool. He freezes. He doesn’t dare open his eyes, even if he’s certain it’s only Gareth. Maybe Robin, if he's really unlucky.

Steve's house has a revolving door. You never know who's gonna show up, unannounced.

And Eddie can't help it, he flushes even further, cheeks red and hot, totally embarrassed. 

When Eddie finally cracks an eye open, he laughs when he sees Gareth standing in the pool, right at the edge. Arms folded, head resting on them. Staring right at Eddie. Gareth has no shame and doesn’t get embarrassed easily, if ever. 

Just like Steve, honestly.

How he's surrounded himself with these two, he's not exactly sure.

"Whatcha guys been doin'?" Gareth drawls out, like he can't see Steve's bare ass in his face and know exactly what they were doing. 

Gareth's caught them fucking in several countries at this point. This is nothing. It's not even in the top ten most compromising positions he's seen them in. But still. Eddie could do without it, for sure.

Gareth's dog, Bonzo, is prancing around poolside, barking and jumping, just as hyper as his owner.

Steve just shakes his head, leaning over and picking up his discarded Speedo and walks back towards the house, like it’s no big deal to be walking around the backyard, totally naked. It's nothing Gareth hasn't seen before, to be certain. They've all spent far too many years together, in far too many locker rooms. 

Still, Eddie lifts his hips, and gets his trunks back up and securely fastened. He’s not about to get caught naked if he can help it. Unlike Steve, he does have some shame, and doesn’t exactly desire his junk getting featured on TMZ.

Some days, Eddie thinks Steve's just daring them to run dick pics of him. Probably because he knows what he's packing, and nobody in their right mind is gonna give his dick bad press. 

Definitely not Eddie. No way.

Eddie is about to get up, when Bonzo seizes the opportunity for the freed up premium seating, and jumps up onto Eddie’s lap.

Eddie hears the chair give way before he feels it. Soon enough they’re both falling to the ground. It’s a short fall, but Eddie still scrapes his elbow on the concrete and Bonzo shoots him daggers as if this whole mess was Eddie's fault, as the dog darts away from the scene of the crime, and towards the house, trying to catch up with Steve.

Steve clearly saw it happen, and he’s doubled over laughing near the sliding glass doors, still naked, and Eddie really doesn’t find it all that funny. 

“Fuck you, asshole, that hurt!” Eddie yells across the yard as he awkwardly untangles himself from the wreckage. Steve just laughs harder, and as much as Eddie wants to, it’s hard for him to stay mad at Steve.

Eddie gets up and surveys the collapsed heap of vinyl and aluminum. It looks like it's a total loss, and that does make Eddie smile, fully thankful that the chair from hell finally met its overdue end.

He jogs to catch up with Steve, hoping to slide in the shower with him, where Steve will kiss his wounded pride all better, and maybe go for round two. 

Notes: Song is Permanent 99 by Christian Kane. It's not on Spotify, or I'd just embed it. Gareth's dog is Bonzo, after John Bonham. Because I still like to think he's a drummer in this world, and that still plays with Eddie here, too. They just took their focus elsewhere.

This is the kind of chair I'm talking about, which they're still making apparently?! I had no idea.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemas and follow along!

If you want to see more of my entries from this challenge, they are in my tag right here!

[maxverstappensflatbrim]

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [2]

chapter two, act one: antichrist

May 29th 2010

"You've what?"

"Changed the name of the band."

Comes the reply over the phone, "Why?"

Adam sighs on the other end, "Not sure, think Matty's going through an existential crisis again."

She snorts, "When is he not?"

She twirls the pen in her hand as she leans back, and lifts her feet to rest on her desk, "What's the name?"

"Uh, 19- sorry, the 1975."

She starts laughing, holding a hand to her mouth to hold it back, but the smile can be seen from miles away.

"He's very specific about the."

"Yeah?"

Adam hums, "Is it some kind of inside joke?" He asks, "Your tattoos? I don't get it, he won't tell anyone."

"Our little secret, Ads."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'm just glad I don't have to describe to girls why we're called Drive Like I Do, anymore."

"What girls?" She teases and she hears him laugh sarcastically on the other end.

It's silent for a few moments, and she picks at a string on her cardigan, "We've got another gig lined up."

"Really?"

"Yeah, a few, you gonna come up soon?"

She sighs, "I don't know, Ads, maybe."

"Matty uh, he bought your book yesterday. Was pissed I got a free one and he didn't."

She scoffs, "Didn't want him stealing my stuff again."

Adam laughs too, "It's great, Tommie, really. You're an amazing writer, you should do something with that."

"Maybe."

"No, you should." He says firmly.

She glances to the side, the little book sitting there staring at her, 75 pages of her own work. Her writing, her words, her poetry.

"Has he, uh, has he read it?"

"About a hundred times."

"Really?"

Adam hums, "We all have. It's good, Tommie." He hesitates a second, then adds, "Song worthy, band worthy."

"I'm not-"

"Yeah, I know. Thought I'd try again."

She wants to get off topic now, and talk about something other than her work. The thought of Matty reading it, understanding it, makes a red blush rise up her neck and across her cheeks.

"Did you hear what Nan and Granch are doing?"

"No." She can imagine his furrowed brows and confused tilted head, one that makes him look so much like their grandfather.

"Moving to France, or Spain, they haven't decided."

Adam laughs, "A place in the sun?"

"All the time, I can't come downstairs and see it on tele anymore, I'm going crazy, If it's not that it's an antique roadshow making him think he can become some sort of pawnbroker."

Adam chuckles again, "I think he's bored."

"I know, being retired doesn't suit him, he's trying to convince Nan to retire but she's still got four years before she's old enough."

"Doubt she will either, she loves her little break from him once a day."

"How is it over there?" He asks then, "At the McDuff household?"

"Great, actually, great."

"Tommie?"

She hums, moving her position so her feet are back on the floor, going back to staring at her notes for her English class, "How's things at the Fern household?"

"Well, dad's pissed he lost the custody battle. But, he did turn up to court drunk four times, so... that's his own fault."

"He seen you?"

"He asked me to go to dinner with him three weeks ago, still waiting for him to pick me up."

"What time was he supposed to be there?" Adam asks.

"Three weeks ago." She repeats slowly.

She hears him sighs, can imagine the pity falling off of him, "Tommie-"

She cuts him off quickly, not wanting the pity, "Nan's calling me, think dinner is ready, I'll call you monday when I get more credit."

"Okay, bye, Tommie."

"Bye, Ad."

Adam turns away as he hangs up, opening up the door again to step back inside Matty's place. Despite the early hour, seven thirty, both Ross and George are passed out on a sofa each. Matty's curled up on the beanbag he'd brought down from his bedroom, book in hand, glasses on, leaving the armchair open to Adam.

"She okay?"

"Yeah, revising for exams."

Matty nods, not tearing his eyes away from the page, "What do you think she means by 'watch my inane tears'?"

Adam looks up, "What?"

"In her one poem, she's written, 'the consequential ignorance, as you watch my inane tears', what do you think she means by that?"

"You know, if there was a poem in there about you, she'd have told me."

Matty closes the book, sending him something between a glare and an embarrassed look, "That's not what I'm trying to find out. I-"

He sighs looking away, "Your cousin is a very private person. She only reveals things she wants to, and I'm very nosy." The other boy just raises a brow slowly, "I'm trying to understand how her mind works, she's- so, I don't know, her mind is just- amazing."

"But," Matty asks, "What do you think she means?"

"Which poem is it?"

"The art of eye contact."

Adam remembers their conversation where she talked about it, "It's about her father, ignoring her and moving on to the next child. So, I guess she means like- I don't know." Adam shakes his head then looks at Matty, "But I have a feeling you think you do?"

"Well, I had to use a dictionary, no idea what inane means, or how to pronounce it. But according to the dictionary, it means, 'lacking sense'." Matty sighs, "I think it's her saying that her tears are worthless because they make no sense, she's been holding them back for so long at this point she's crying over things she doesn't need to cry over."

He looks up at Adam, "Is she okay? When you talked to her?"

"She's fine, Matty."

"Really?"

"Yup."

He nods, then he looks down at the page again watching his scruffy handwriting in blue ink beside the printed words as he reads the poem over and over until it's engraved in his head.

The Art of Eye Contact, by Tommie McDuff

Look at me, In your condescending way, Judge how I am free, And then watch my words decay. They fall upon deaf ears, The consequential ignorance, As you watch my inane tears, And ignore our indifference. We are not the same, One man, One full of shame, No more than. A plain chaste, Woman of a child, Destroyed in her haste, But even then she smiled. Look at me, Again, meet my eyes, The baleful banshee, It's time you realise. Again, look at me, And allow me to distract, After all this is just the Art of eye contact.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

June 3rd 2010

Sixteen.

She thought maybe it would feel different but as she rolls over, noticing the yellow post-it note that's been placed on her pillow she sighs.

Happy Birthday, sweetheart. Working late tonight, see you then x

As she scrumples the paper up and tosses it into the plastic bin beneath her desk she lays back down in bed.

She thought being sixteen would be different, thought being sixteen would make her mother try and stay around for a birthday.

She sighs then checks the time, eight-thirty. She doesn't have an exam today, next one is on the eight, history and maths. She hates maths.

Hearing her grandfather tottering around downstairs forces her up, she smiles when her foot hits something and recognises her nans terrible wrapping skills lying at the bottom of her bed.

When she unwraps it she smiles at the soft fabric. A little knitted green cardigan lays inside and she lifts it up.

Her nan's been really into knitting lately, reading books on it until she perfects the little thing.

Tommie had asked for a new cardigan, the one she'd bought got caught on a door at school and ripped, she'd been heartbroken. It was her nannie's, the only thing she'd had of her after she died.

She pulls on some grey sweats, an old Stereophonics t-shirt then her new green cardigan over the top and heads downstairs quickly.

"Morning."

The dog, Taffie, is the first to greet her, the little Jack Russell that's still like a puppy despite her age of fourteen.

She leans down to pat the dog's side, smiling as she turns to lick at her hand.

"Good morning."

She stands quickly turning to the settee, "Hey."

"Cute slippers."

She rolls her eyes, looking down at the little cow slippers on her feet, "What are you doing here?"

Matty grins, looking up as her nan walks in with a cup of tea in her hands, "There you go, Matty."

"Thanks, Mag."

She settles beside him and then notices her granddaughter, "Tommie, happy birthday."

She gets back up to kiss her on the cheek and she smiles, "Thank you, and thanks for my present."

"Granch has got some pancakes on."

She goes back out into the kitchen with a promise of a cup of tea for her and then Tommie goes back to looking at Matty.

"Happy birthday, Tommie."

She smiles sitting beside him, "Thank you. But seriously, what are you doing here?"

"Fulfilling my life goal."

She rolls her eyes a little and shakes her head, "Matty..."

"What?" He shrugs a little avoiding her burning gaze.

She plays with the sleeves of her new cardigan, "It's four hours here from Manchester, and it's only nine."

"Actually, it's three hours and fifteen minutes, and I've been here since eight."

"Matty."

He shrugs, "I couldn't sleep, then I thought to myself, 'Wow my amazingly talented and funny best friend has her birthday today, I should go see her'."

"Thank you," She says again, "But you didn't have to."

"But, I wanted to-"

"Breakfast for the birthday girl."

She smiles at her grandfather as he walks in, he places a kiss on her forehead, "Happy birthday, my little flower."

"Thanks, Granch."

As he hands her the plate he checks his watch, "Oh shit, I've got to go. Late to go to the station."

He kisses her head once more, "Happy birthday."

"See you tonight."

"Tomorrow," He says as he leaves, "I've got to pick up a night shift."

Her nan shakes her head, "He's supposed to be retired. Always running off to 'look after' the engines."

Her nan sticks around until lunchtime, pestering both her and Matty to make sure they eat something before she leaves for her shift at work.

"What do you usually do on your birthday?"

"Sit around, watch tele, eat, cry, eat, watch more tele, eat."

He groans loudly, "Right, get up, put some actual trousers on, and some suitable footwear, we're going out."

"Out? Where, you've been here twice before. And got lost trying to find ASDA."

"I've been researching."

"You asked, Adam?"

He blinks at her slowly, "Get dressed."

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

"Gonna tell me where we're going?"

He sighs, fingers drumming the wheel, "I have to, I have no idea where I'm going." She chuckles, "I was going to take you to that ice cream place, in Brecon."

She smiles to herself, "Third exit on this roundabout."

She turns back to look at him then with a smile, "You're taking me for ice cream."

He nods, looking over at her with his own little smile, "Gonna make it the best birthday ever."

"No need," She says, leaning forward to mess around with the radio, "Already is."

"We haven't done anything yet."

She shrugs, "You're here, I've left the house and we're on our way to get ice cream," She turns back to look at him as Katy Perry fills the car, "It's already the best birthday I've ever had."

His smile only gets bigger as he keeps driving forward, taking in the beacons and the sunlight peeking through the trees as they go.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

"Where are we going?"

She laughs and keeps running, dragging him behind her through the field until finally, they stop, she turns walking backward then falls flat on her back.

He chuckles, walking closer, "What are you doing?"

"I used to do this as a kid with Granch, star gaze. He's a big constellation freak. Come here."

He sits beside her then slowly leans back into the grass, "Bet you've never seen stars like this, Healy, huh?"

He tilts his head, "They're so much brighter."

"That's 'cause the street lights in the city put all the stars to death."

"Wow." He chuckles and she turns to look at him, "How poetic of you."

"Shut up, it's true."

He sighs looking up, "Okay, what are the constellations?"

She snorts, "I don't know, never really paid much attention."

He tilts his head, "That one looks like a blunt."

She snorts, "You're such a junkie."

"A junkie wanna-be, baby."

She scoffs, "A sycophantic junkie."

He raises a brow, tilting his head down to look at her, "Really? Sycophantic? Thought I'd at least be like prophetic level."

"Since when could you see the future?"

He turns fully onto his side, "I can predict the future."

"Go on then, read me, Healy."

He closes his eyes, hovering his hand over her face and she giggles, he peeks one eye open to look down at her, "Shh, I need to concentrate."

She purses her lips, looking up at him as he closes his eyes again, his curly dark hair falling across his forehead causing him to try and blow it up out of the way.

"I see... a band-" She pushes his hand out the way but he fights back to keep it there, "And- an album. Loads of money, big houses, parties, celebrities, red carpets-"

"Wow, like living an actual nightmare."

He opens his eyes now, "You wouldn't want that?"

She shakes her head, "Not for me. I'd rather have enough money to get by and live in a little house with a dog or two alone, for the rest of my life."

"That's a sad life." She shrugs her shoulders, closes her eyes, and lays down again.

Matty sighs, shifting a little. He's the opposite of her, never one for silence whereas she thrives in it.

"What would your superpower be?"

"Um..." She sighs, brows furrowed and eyes still closed.

"Reading minds."

"Boring."

She elbows him in the rib and he dramatically cries out, rubbing the area, "Why is that boring?"

"It's such a basic answer."

"You don't even know why."

"Okay," He nods, turning to her, raising his one eyebrow in a challenging way, "Why?"

She flicks his forehead, "So I could see what's going on in there." He catches her wrist moving her hand away.

He shakes his head laughing and she laughs too, moving up onto her elbows, "What? I'd love to see inside your mind."

"Why? It's a scary place."

"Oh, I don't doubt it. But so I could see how you come up with your songs,. Like Lost Boys, ooh, and sex, where'd that one come from? I know for a fact little Matthew Healy never asked anyone to meet them in the back of his van."

"I did, actually."

"Lies." She calls him out immediately, then giggles to herself, "You sound like a paedo in that song."

"Gee, thanks."

"You're welcome."

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Matty stops the car, pulling up the handbrake then looking over at her with a huge smile. "Home."

"Thank you." She says sincerely as she shrugs off the seatbelt.

"Happy Birthday, Tommie."

"Uh, you wanna stay? I can set up the spare room, it's in the attic and a little creepy but I'm not staying in there, so it'll have to do."

He chuckles, watching her pick at a string on her jeans, "I'm okay, I've got to get back anyway."

"This late?" She asks, she glances at the little watch on her wrist, brows furrowed and he chuckles at her confusion.

"Two twenty."

"At twenty past two in the morning? You've been here since early this morning, Matty, surely that's not healthy."

"I'll be fine."

"Healy."

He grabs her hands that pick at her thumb and squeezes it, "I've gone longer and further with no sleep, at least I've had a couple of hours."

She sighs, knowing he's too stubborn and she won't win. Nodding her head she opens her door and smiles as she leans down but he jumps up, unbuckling his seatbelt, "Wait, wait..."

He runs around to the back of the car, opening up the boot and calling her over. He takes a big case out and hands it to her but she hesitates, "Matt..."

"Happy Birthday."

"I-"

"Just open it, please."

She unzips the bag slowly gripping the guitar by the neck and then looks up to him. That adorable pout and head tilts of hers staring up at him.

"Matt."

"It's the one Alex Turner plays."

"I know." She smiles and nods quickly, looking down at the Fender Stratocaster in her hands. It's a dark green colour, her favourite.

She rubs her fingers over the colouring, plucking a few strings, briefly playing what he recognizes as a tune of crying lightning.

"I can't-"

"You can, it's a birthday present, can't give them back."

"It's too expensive."

"It's not just from me, it's from all of us."

Her shoulders drop quickly, "Is this some kind of ploy to get me in the band?"

"No, I think it was Adam's idea to get you to stop stealing his when you're over."

She looks down at the guitar again, she turns and sits on the edge of the boot, resting it on her thigh, "Play me something." He requests, hands in his pockets as he leans against the side of his car.

"What?"

"Anything."

She thinks for a moment, hands moving as she plays around, plucking a few strings here and there.

She finds herself doing a favourite of hers, C'est la vie by Stereophincs, she hums the lyrics a little as she goes on.

"See? Natural." He says.

After putting it back in the case, swinging it over her shoulder and looking up at him she smiles once more up at him.

A big toothy smile that has the corner of her eyes crinkling and cheeks tinting red in the cold air of the night.

"Thank you, Matty."

He nods hands still in his pockets as he turns away from his now closed boot, "Happy birthday, Tommie. Did I do it?" She raises a brow, asking him to explain, "Prove birthdays can be good."

She shrugs, "Not really." His whole demeanour changes, shoulders sagging and his smile falls. "Everyday with you is like this. Fun, adventurous, happy..."

His head lifts again, and he lifts a hand quickly to wipe away the curly dark hair that has fallen across his forehead.

She steps closer, lifting up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, "Thank you."

He nods, watching her step back again before turning to go into her house. As he gets in he doesn't see her turn back to watch him drive away. Or hear her mutter warnings to herself about having a crush on her cousin's best friend.

Who not only lives three hours away but is a good few years older too.

"Stop it, Tommie," She says, quietly closing the door, "He's your friend."

~thanks for reading! x

[brandnewhuman]

Once again I'm writing shit no one has asked for but I want anyways so:

SLASHERS X READER GETTING OLD TOGETHER (Gentle giants edition)

INCLUDES:

Headcanons of Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Jason Voorhees growing older with their s/o

Tw: possible mention of cannibalism, murder, mentions of toxic households, some angst. If I missed anything you can say it!

A/N: listen, I just want to have my old age domestic bliss with this babes so this is going to be shameless self-indulgence. Also if you like it I can do it for the other slashers too.

THOMAS:

You two obviously have moved out after luda mae and hoyt died. You actually tried to go as far away as possible to be able to have a fresh start.

Probably married at some point. He may not say it but being able to call himself your husband makes his heart melt.

With so many years of being under your care and love he eventually feels less self conscious. He doesn't struggles that much anymore to believe he's worthy of your love.

That doesn't mean he takes your love for granted or that he has grown used to being with you. He's still shy as ever, he's a mess everytime you look at him smiling. He can swear that everyday he wakes up next to you he falls in love all over again just by looking at you in the eyes. He will never stop to feel butterflies inside his stomach everytime you're around.

He eventually found a normal job. Town folks were surprisingly accepting once they discovered how nice thomas actually is and what a lovely couple you two make. He even managed to make a few friends. Proving hoyt's theories about Thomas never being able to have a normal life wrong. Hoyt you can suck on a big fat toe

You both had made a good reputation for yourselves in town. and its actually really refreshing for Thomas to being able to live and not survive. Like really being free from the guilt, the violence and the horrors of what he had to do to maintain his family.

He is going full on with the old man life style once he retires. We're talking about keeping sweets in his pockets, holding hands with you while taking your daily walk around the neighbourhood and sitting on the couch cuddling with while watching cheesy sitcoms

Now that he has free time he's finding new hobbies to do together and his favorite by far is cooking and baking. He's taking it very seriously, has even bought aprons for him and you.

Now that he doesn't have to kill anyone to have something to eat he finds it really relaxing. He enjoys every part of it, even buying the groceries.

If you two had kids and/or grandchildren he will 100% bake and cook with them. He'll probably give too many sweets to the kids so try to keep an eye on him if you don't want your kids/grandchildren to get diabetes in one day

The part he loves the most about his new life is being able to see how you change throughout the years along him. Your greying hair, the marks on the corners of your mouth cause by a lifetime worth of moments smiling and laughing together, your beauty never withering only growing more mature.

And he's not ageing bad himself at all. Tommy is still the big strong boy you've met years ago. That hasn't change even now that he's old, the only visible change in his physics being a few wrinkles and white hairs.

But if we talking about age problems you can't see? Oh boy, buckle up.

Both of you are experiencing the joys of feeling aches everywhere. Getting up? Your knees are aching. Bending? Your back is killing you. Every bone in your body rattles from time to time

Now if is him hearing his back cracking because he just got up from bed then his only going to let a subtle grumpy grunt of annoyance

But if it's you? Bro is going full on panic mode thinking you just broke your fucking spine. He's never going to get used to it and will always fuss about it

Years of neglecting his health and forcing too much his body has took a tool on him though so make sure his getting checked from time to time and that he takes his medicines

Besides you too have to get checked cause, even if less serious than his, you still have your fair share of things to watch out for.

He reminds you of your medicines and you remind him of his.

He loves taking you to little dates like going to get ice cream together, taking you to a nice dinner out ecc

He has now no shame in kissing you, cuddling ecc. He's a serial smoocher

Dinners together are always romantic, it doesn't matter if there's no special occasion both of you will always make it nice with candles and music ecc

He loves to sit on the porch with you after breakfast or lunch.

He's definitely going to bring you flowers everyday.

The only bad thing he sees on getting older together is that the idea of losing you becomes more real everyday. He knows it's something normal and tries to not think about it too much. He only hopes that, if you two can go out together, he's the first to go cause he won't be able to be without you.

Overall his life is going to be much more happier and healthier. It was already happier the day you appeared in his life but now is really everything he wished for and more.

BUBBA:

Much more like Thomas his life with you will start to be much more happier and easier without having his family around to manipulate and beat him down.

It's a 50/50 between Drayton and his brothers dying or you being able to convince him to leave wit you.

Either way he's just so happy of been gifted the opportunity to spend so many years with you ♡

Bubba, unlike Thomas, still likes the idea of a house far from the town, with a nice garden ecc

Both of you would find a job and will still going to town for groceries ecc but he just prefers the calm and privacy of not being around people too much. Years of always being isolated are not going to heal so easy.

He's still as bubbly as always, maybe now with age his less energetic and more toned down but he's still a gentle giant full of joy.

Every night before going to bed he puts the radio on and has a cuddling session with you while listening you talk about anything you want to say

Now that he's a retired old man he doesn't has much to do so he takes this free time to engage in his passion for crafts ecc.

He's that type of old people who are always checking the whole house to see if something needs to be fixed.

He loves to have breakfast with you in the garden. Or to have cute picnics outside.

He's definitely going to have a dog and by the time you wake up in the morning he has not only take his daily walk with the dog, brought you flowers but he has made breakfast too.

He has learnt to drive eventually but if he was a danger behind the wheel when he was younger now that he's old he's a complete fuckin menace. Please don't let this man drive more than what's necessary

He has found he really enjoys reading and probably had to start using glasses but being the old man he is now they're probably atrociously ugly. Somehow, though, he manages to make them look cute on him.

You have to remind him to take his medication if has to take any. You would always leave it in his nightstand for him to take first thing in the morning with a note to make sure that if you're still asleep he will take them anyway.

He still acts like a teenager with a crush around you and his love has never lessen or toned down with the years.

This poor man health is a mess so yeah, have fun having doctor's appointments as dates

Anything you buy, make or bring for him he's going to treasure it like it's the most valuable thing he has. You both probably have a memory boxes

To make bubba happy you don't need to do much, you're both old and don't really have the energy to be doing crazy stuff so just sitting together on the couch and cuddling is more than enough for him

JASON:

I mean, you already kinda live the old couples life. The only difference being that now you both can actually call yourselves old

Jason out of the three gentle giants is the least likely to move out of the woods. He doesn't sees the need to leave if you both are doing just fine, plus this is his home and the only place he has known since he was a kid.

If it's normal jason he might consider it though, cause he's not getting any younger nor you and he worries about your wellbeing. Be it that you may need medical assistance or that someone hurts you ecc he doesn't want to putting at risk your life now that he's not that able of protecting you

If it's zombie Jason then he's likely to not give in. He loves you dearly but he could never be comfortable around people nor he would fit in enough to live a normal life. Plus he's not going to get old nor die, you're the own starting to look like a raisin here. He's only concern is to spend as much time as he can with you. He will try to slow down the whole killing thing, might settle to just scare people away just for the sake of not wasting time he could use on being with you

Normal jason it's a garden grampa. He's got the hat, the flannel with overalls, the gloves ecc... you even bought him a utility belt to keep his gardening tools at reach without him having to bend down or forcing his knees to get them.

Is always growing new flowers just for you, gets all giddy everytime you both go out to get groceries and you tell him he can buy new seeds.

If he has budge about living somewhere else the first years are going to be hard. Pam wasn't exactly happy about it, but she knew his darling was not going to be able to keep going with this forever and she didn't want to put you in danger neither so she gave her approval. He was actively terrorise everytime he had to interact with someone.

With time and patience and so much love and care from your part, he has grown used to be around people again. Even Pam was helping you in calming him down

After all this years he's still so careful around you. If he treated you like you were going to break before now he's even worse.

You have to talk to him about it cause he ends up neglecting and hurting himself by doing this.

Unpopular opinion but he's not going to be a early morning person anymore. With nothing to worry about and no responsibilities of staying alerted in case a trespasser gets close, all the lack of sleep and years of not resting are catching up on him.

He's not going to be grumpy but will probably sleep as much as he wants and that means that you're going to stay in bed until he doesn't wakes up

Again, like Thomas he's too going to have aches everywhere.

Mostly on his knees and arms from years of hunting down people. His muscles are sore most of the time

He loves having time to actually sit down with you to have meals together or to just watch TV without the thought of having to leave you at anytime to do something.

He's actually pretty healthy and makes sure you are too. His body has only softened a bit from having a more laid back lifestyle. He now eats better and doesn't has to worry about getting hurt ecc anymore

If you're with zombie Jason and you start to feel insicure about you being old and him staying the same he's going to do everything in his power to make you feel loved and comfortable. From his part his love has never changed in any shape or form. If anything it has been getting stronger day by day. The only thing that has changed is that he's now more careful with you and is more protective cause you're more fragile. But other than that everytime he looks at you he only sees his y/n, his little flower beautiful as always if not more

If you had kids and grandchildren he's the grandpa of grandpa's. Pam is over the moon seeing how your family is growing and how happy jason is around all of you

He's always going to carry some sort of sweet with him for the kids, takes them to eat ice cream and play outside, takes them after school if they want to spend time with him and you. He's always giving them money to buy something and it's like the sweetest old man in this world.

He has a thing for taking candid photos of you. You may find photos you didn't remember to take around the house.

Please learn with him how to crochet things so you can both make sweaters for each others.

His favorite part of the day is kissing and admiring you before falling asleep knowing that the next morning he's going to see you again. He's never going to grow tired of having you in his life

[symphonic-scream]

Here's a bit more about the Persona 5 Mech au, where everyone is and what they're up to

More Mech au

(title to make it easier for me to search)

Alright let's go

Here's some world stuff again to start

Schooling goes like, elementary for young kids, until they're about 15. After that it's either Pilot school or high school, though since pilot school only takes new applicants every 3 years, some starting pilots are as young as 12

Body augmentations are common. For non pilots, "replacements" are things you can buy to improve your life, originally created as an option for disabled people. For pilots, there is never a choice. When they sign up for pilot school, they sign a waiver that allows the government automatic consent to replace any part of them to keep them alive

Pilots dont pay for their food, lodgings, or Replacements. Medical too. They pay with their service, since the mortality rate is over 80%. They get a small weekly allowance for amusement spending, and any other money comes from their families

When they retire, there are two payment options. If they work outside the government structure or swear off working with them, they receive just enough to live in their chosen area. Otherwise, they're employed by the government for as long as they are able, and have access to standard amenities with decent pay

Character info under the cut! It's a lot so I don't wanna clog the tags with a mile long post lmao

Otherwise, tell me if you're interested in this one. Like my hero au it's gonna stick around a while, I like this one a lot! So feel free to send me asks!!

Joker (I use the name Akira for him but I usually just say Joker)

So, he's not human. A test tube baby too! He's a mix of human DNA and DNA taken from the monsters they've managed to kill. The "spirit" of the monster he shares DNA with was placed into the mech he tends to pilot most, Arsene

When Wakaba and her team created Joker, they used the most human parts for him. The excess was used to create unit M0N-A, aka Morgana. He acts as a companion for the pilots, and is the mascot for Pilot team 3

Joker was raised by a mix of head researcher Wakaba, and security officers Sojiro and Zenkichi (in the words of Cap, Old Man Yaoi). He was raised as Futaba's older half-brother, and is unaware that he is not human

Goro

An orphan, he joined the Pilot academy to make something of his life, to prove that he was worth keeping. One day he hopes to face his father and show him what he missed out on

He didn't have good sync scores with any pilots in his grad year, his closest to passing mark being a 61.23 with Makoto's former partner Eiko. However, he and Joker broke the national sync record by hitting a 95.89 on their first attempt, making them partners

He did nearly die around that time. In order to save him they used Joker's blood for a transfusion, and now Akechi's body is, doing strange things

He shares a quad dorm with fellow class 192 graduates Makoto and Haru, and class 193 graduate Hifumi. He gets along very well with Security officer Zenkichi, and is fond of having debates with head office staff Sae Niijima

He joined the Pilot academy after his orphanage was visited by a few members of Team 2 (the Persona 4 crew). He really looks up to pilot Naoto Shirogane

Ann

Her parents were against her becoming a pilot. They wanted her to inherit their business, which makes the sync suits the pilots wear. However, she felt a rush when she tried one on for the first time, and she doesn't let anyone stop her from reaching her dreams

She and Ryuji were sync partners in the academy, best friends from kindergarten too. Shiho joined their group in elementary school, and all three joined the academy together. Shiho's sync scores with both of them were just below theirs, and their teachers joked that they'd be the perfect team for a three pilot mech

Ann and Shiho fell hard for each other, and started dating at the academy. They planned to try to pilot at the same base after, maybe even actually become a true trio with Ryuji- so they could be together forever

But of course, the final exam is known for cutting pilot numbers down fast. By killing most and injuring the rest, leaving only the bravest to continue forward. Ann and Ryuji passed, though their training mech went up in flames. Ann had to have her left arm replaced, only up to the elbow.

However, Shiho was less lucky. Barely passing, she lost both legs below the knees. She decided to retire immediately, but vowed to stay by Ann's side even if she continued as a pilot.

And continue she did. Chosen for the elite Team 3, Ann got to stay in Central Base City, and married Shiho as soon as they were able to. She shares a room quad with Ryuji, Yusuke, and Joker

Her ultimate dream? To retire and live peacefully with Shiho, working on making better and better sync suits

Ryuji

Being a mech pilot was always his dream. His dad had been a deadbeat, and tried to hurt him and his mom. A pilot trainee had noticed and swept in and saved them, and ever since it was the only thing Ryuji wanted to do

He grew up besties with Ann, and eventually Shiho. He never minded third wheeling them, they never made him feel left out. His marks were always just barely good enough to pass, but his physical test results were always top of the class

During his final exam, his and Ann's mech caught fire. He lost his right leg, up to his hip. The replacement works well enough, but he always walks with a slight limp. Neither Researcher Wakaba nor Medic Tae Takemi know why, nothing shows up on his tests

He is the pilot that gets along the least with M0N-A, and goes off base once a month to stay with his mom for a week

Yusuke

He was the first student pilot to use a solo mech on the exam and pass. He also came out of the exam whole, since his Replacement eye came from a sneezing incident while he was sketching his precious mech

Yusuke's mom used to work at the Northern Reach base, which is where the infamous Pilot Team 1 was stationed. His art teacher was a corrupt man and tricked his ill mother out of money with the false promise of a new-gen Replacement for her liver

Orphaned once she died, Yusuke nearly killed Madarame in his rage, but two Team one members, Makoto Yuki and Kotone Shiomi, stopped him in time and took him in for a spell

He believes he owes the pilot program for his survival, and joined the academy the first chance he got. He was temporarily sync partners with Hifumi, but they could only reach a 65.20 sync rate. As such both were pushed into the test group for solo mech's due to their otherwise high test scores

Yusuke rarely pilots a dual mech because of this, but he has the most success with Joker (who is genetically designed to achieve high scores) and Haru. The highest sync score he's ever achieved was a 73.95, with Joker

He also is the one who sews on the patches to everyone's bomber jackets. Oh, cause they each have a Team 3 bomber jacket in their mech's colours. Yusuke made team 3 patches, as well as any other patches his teammates wished for and sewed them by hand

Makoto

A second generation pilot! Her father and mother had met through the pilot program, him as a pilot and her as a researcher, and they had Sae as, an accident. They were both young, maybe too young. It did keep him out of combat for a few years though

When their first daughter was about, 12-15, you know, pilot age, they found out they were having a second child. Sae didn't want to be a pilot, but she wasn't pushed that hard because well, her father was going to have a second chance for a legacy now

However, the mother didn't make it. Makoto was born during the first monster attack on Central Base City, and the complications with the birth meant only daughter survived. It was devasting for her father, but he sat in the loud, flashing hospital hallway with his baby daughter, his oldest tucked into his side and shivering, and promised to dedicate his life for their futures

With her father focusing on piloting, Makoto was mostly raised by her older sister and said sister's girlfriend, Tae Takemi. Still, she looked up to her father almost too much, and knew she was going to be a pilot no matter what

Even when he died. Even when Sae tried to rip up her pilot school application. Even when she legally died for a few minutes during her final exam.

Before the exam though, she was top of her class in all categories, competing for top spot with Goro. She was dating her sync partner Eiko, was good friends with another pilot named Haru, life was good

But you know. Her partner died during the exam, and Makoto nearly did too. Their mech shorted, sending electricity right through them, and lots of it. Makoto's heart was, well, fried. But Tae and the medical team got her in and successfully implemented the 22nd functioning organ replacement

She didn't retire though, and was paired with Haru and placed in Team 3. She always feels, less than human, and fears she'll lose her humanity without her heart

Futaba

Daughter of the lead researcher, Futaba was around mech's her whole life. Her mom is still alive! And she's doing great. She didn't want Futaba to be a pilot, but she also knew she couldn't tell Futaba no and expect her to listen

In her exam her copilot died, and her spine had to be replaced. They were, crushed. Literally. Futaba won't let that stop her though, and wants to keep pace with her big brother Joker

She is unaware that she shares more blood with her brother's partner than her brother

Both she and Makoto's Replacements require monthly check ups, whereas everyone else only has to go in every 3 months

Futaba has. Something, with Sumire. They were made sync partners when they were assigned Team 3, but there's. More. Neither will admit there are feelings involved though, so it's. A work in progress

Haru

Daughter of the owner of one of the big companies that fund the pilot program, Haru entered as a secret. Her father only found out when she was accepted, and by then it was too late to turn back

She was fond of her first sync partner, but from day one she was in love with Makoto. She was fine with the way things were, and kept trudging on. She was going to be a pilot, she was going to help

In fact, she was pretty damn good. Haru was one of few that survived the final exam without needing a replacement, yet her partner still retired. She was paired with Makoto when they were placed in Team 3, and it was like a dream come true. Only, her partner is as dense as a concrete wall

Oh well. She's already waited ten years, what's a few more?

Sumire

One half of the former Yoshizawa strike team. She and her twin sister Kasumi had record high sync scores, and were on track to be the best pilots of their generation.

You can probably guess what happened.

The final exam. Their mech was sliced in half, the core exploding from the stress. The left side was completely destroyed, Kasumi along with it. Sumire survived, barely

Her left arm, leg, part of her shoulder, some ribs and a chunk of hip were all replaced. She also feels like half her soul was ripped out. She did t retire though, vowing to be the best, for her sisters sake

Paired with Futaba on Team 3, there's. Something there. Along the lines of, friends with benefits? Maybe. Kind of. They're being, selective with the whole thing

Hifumi

And finally Hifumi! She payed for a brain augmentation, a processing chip, to be placed in her brain. So she can think and plan a lot faster, but she's still getting used to the whole thing

I don't have much for her compared to the others, she's otherwise full human and tends to be sent out the least of the Team 3 pilots

Anyways. ASK ME ABOUT THIS I HAVE LIKE THE WHOLE THING WORKED OUT

[ghostussy]

Could you link me some fluffy (or spicy, don’t matter) fics/hc/drabbles of the ghost members with sick reader? Or even specifically you know, surgery. I love the ghouls and papa platonic x kit reader or anything younger. It’s just so comforting, and everything hurts rn, not just my chest, but an ear infection for the 6th time this month.

Omg have a good day

Yeah! Unfortunately I don't have many sickfics saved, but these are some of my go-to fics. Sorry there's so many AKFJBDS

Fuck that's a lot of ear infections in a month. I'm so sorry, those are absolute fucking hell. I hope you start feeling better soon!!! <3 and HAPPY NO TIT SATURDAY!!!!!!! (for real though I hope you start feeling better!)

Aches (Mitchmatch24) is one of my personal favorites, reader gets a migraine and Aether draws it out. <3 (also please check out mitch's other fics too they're very soft!)

From the Pinnacle to the Pile (Mitchmatch24) isn't a sickfic necessarily, but it's about an overworked reader getting dragged into the ghoul pile.

Bedtime (lampisaflashlight) is really cute, Rain essentially kidnaps Dew and puts him to sleep LOL

Personal Heater (thatoddgent) is about Sodo soothing a reader with chronic pain.

Rest (milkywaybottles) is one of the first Popia x readers I ever read, I find a lot of comfort in it even now. <3 It uses the prompt, "Just go back to sleep, I'll be here when you wake up." and is overall really sweet.

kazoo comfort (ghostchems) Terzo, retired, finds the reader on a break and serenades them. with a kazoo.

lil dew ficlet (iamthecomet) my personal favorite sickfic, not an x reader but I use it to fuel my daydreams

Aether is exhausted (iamthecomet) another (kinda?) sickfic, not an x reader but Aether is running around the ministry overworking himself caring for everyone else who is sick until the ghouls stop him.

Let Me (checkerboardhorns) Copia is sleepy and the reader helps him take off his paints.

Spring Walk (writingjourney) Reader is feeling anxious, so Cardi takes them out on a walk.

Overwhelmed (joyfulfxckery) Rain and Swiss x Overworked reader during exam season.

Blanketed in your Love (jossambird) Secondo comforts a reader sobbing in his chapel.

Ghosting (writingjourney) Reader accidentally ghosts Papa (any) because they are, well. Sick as hell.

Copia takes care of you after surgery (bretty-metalhead) A really sweet set of headcanons.

Cuddles with Papa (leezlelatch) Reader visits Copia's apartment where they cuddle while watching movies.

Sniffles and Snuggles (leezlelatch) Copia takes care of you when you are sick.

Rough Day (writingjourney) Reader is cared for by Copia after a long day.

There was only one bed fireplace (sweatandwoe) It's cold as fuck in the ministry, so you get yourself and Copia kidnapped by the ghouls.

Sleepy Nights (leezlelatch) sleepy nights with copia! believe it or not I actually requested this on anon not long before I started writing and interacting with people on this site. This is the fic that inspired me to start writing, so it has a very special place in my heart <3

Sick (katyouz-deactivated) A sick reader is comforted by Copia.

/ / /the next three fics involve littlespace, if you're not comfortable with that feel free to skip! I'm don't really read littlespace but these are really soft! / / /

Stressed Copia (omoghouls) A stressed Copia fighting being little so he can finish his work.

Copia being comforted by the Ghouls (omoghouls) Copia is overworking himself.

Tiny Aether with a Caretaker Copia (omoghouls) Aether is feeling small and Copia takes care of him.

/ / /

KISS!!! (soulnottainted) Copia cuddles an OC named kelsey.

Papa Reads (honeyynymphh) Papa reads exerpts from an old text while you lie on his lap.

When you wake up (copiousloverofcopia) Reader falls asleep while waiting on Terzo to come to bed.

Insomniac (of-dragonss) Reader, an insomniac, cuddles with Copia late at night.

A Cozy Night with Copia (seestor-of-mordor) Cuddles with copia as he (attempts) to read.

Ao3 Fic recs:

You Need Not Suffer Alone (CopiaInRed) Copia comforts a depressed reader. Also be sure to check out his other fics as well cuz damn are they good! <3

3 am (themratts) Copia wakes up in the middle of the night and is comforted by his wife, Alena (OC).

Father Figure Secondo (terzosleftkidney) Reader falls asleep in the car and is carried in by Secondo.

Three's Company (emertiusslut) Cuddle party between Copia and a few of his ghouls.

Pitter Patter (Pool_rain) Swiss has been having a rough time on tour, and Copia comforts him.

Lackluster (ratpocket) I fucking love this fic. It's only 3 chapters long unfortunately but it's one of the first ghost fics I ever read and I love it so much. Copia gets bitten by vampire Terzo, and discovers that he has not been taking care of himself the way that he should.

[nazmazh]

Not that I speak for my whole generation, let alone GenZers too, but man...

My parents and their friends are such fuckin' Boomers(TM) about certain generation differences.

It's all "Nobody wants to work", "People want too much money for too little effort and that's why nobody likes hiring them."

And, like. Just... Ugh.

Trying to explain things to them from the point of view of someone who gets lumped in as "one of them damned Millennial socialist-types" (which, I mean, I am, but still - my points don't stop existing because of that) or what have you, would be like trying to explain particle physics to a brick.

They just utterly cannot wrap their heads around the idea that things have changed in significant ways.

That even with consumer goods being cheaper, the costs of living, especially establishing yourself when you're young have gone way up - Rent/housing, vehicles, food, maintenance, loan payments, etc. - God forbid you actually want to start a family on top of all of that.

While wages effectively decrease more and more, especially relative to the amount of actual productivity generated.

And that with that, a lot of the "stay late, put in 110%" mentality (while being toxic and fundamentally just being free labour for employers, which we're all more conscious of as being, well, shitty for us workers) - That stuff isn't a nicety that'll make you stand out and look good for an employer come promotion-time. It's just expected or outright demanded of you. And when it comes time to promote or at least give raises? Nah - They'll nickel and dime and hem and haw about giving their own workers more money or less duties - They'll just bring in someone who feels more exploited somewhere else - And then turn around and complain about disloyalty when their employees leave for greener pastures in the same way.

And we're all a lot more conscious of the ill-effects of too much stress and poor work-life balance, so we try to push back against being overworked and burnt out where we can (That being said I absolutely do know people my age and younger who willingly get into that "grind mindset" and I worry for them. Like, are they actually getting enough money to meaningfully get ahead? Or are they just working themselves into an early grave for no real benefit?)

It's no longer the "just walk in, shake the manager's hand, work in the same place until retirement and comfortably make enough to buy a house and raise your kids through university with your partner being a SAHP." world anymore.

Like, the Boomers just don't get that we're in a situation where working harder doesn't translate to meaningful improvements for our lives.

To the point that it feels impossible to meaningful get ahead and achieve "milestones".

And when you're stating that down, expecting it to only get worse because of policies Boomers voted into place and by-and-large continue to vote into place. And that this is the expectation of how your life is going to be for the next 40+ years- It does lead to a sort of crushing, existential despair.

And if that doesn't break you just a little bit, well you're probably doing a lot better than a lot of people.

So there's two approaches that emerge from that (and they're not mutually-exclusive):

The first is just to check out. "If this job isn't gonna pay my bills no matter how good I do it, I'm just gonna do enough not to get fired."

And honestly, there's always been people like this in the workforce. The Olds are just mad because "How dare someone young not hop-to when they ought to!" They'll complain about useless coworkers of the same age too, but not with the same vitriol. Not with the same disdain. And they won't dismiss the whole generation as "lazy" or worse because if them.

The second strategy is to embrace what you can - Enjoy our many frivolous things. Toys (including recreational vehicles), games, computers, phones, streaming services, makeup, clothes, good food, whatever floats your boat. Because, as I said, those sorts of things are relatively less expensive these days.

Because if you're gonna never really be able to get a house, no amount of cutting back on avocado toast is gonna change that. And there's no point in denying yourself little joys indefinitely to aspire to it.

And this offends The Olds, because, 'how dare you have conspicuous consumption of any kind of you complain about not being able to afford rent or a mortgage?!". And back in the day, maybe you could save a meaningful amount if you cut back on little luxuries, and it would make enough of a difference to get you into a house/whatever your goal was notably sooner. And it'd only mean tightening your belt for a pre-determined amount of time - Not in perpetuity.

And of course, that's assuming you have the luxury of disposable income at all. I know I'm relatively privileged with an MSc (even if disability means I can't work, myself), let alone any university, so my friend circle is largely similarly privileged. There's plenty of people - Both younger and older than me - That can't even cut back on luxuries to save, because there's no money going to luxuries, period.

I guess the shift is that even things that used to guarantee you a "good, middle-class life" aren't really guaranteeing that anymore.

The kicker is that they too complain about life being shitty, work sucking, etc.

But then when anyone proposes that maybe the whole system is broken and we could rethink it?

Well, now that's outrageous! "How dare you be so ungrateful and not just pull yourself by your bootstraps you lazy slacker?! And why bother trying to change things? Just get sloppy drunk every night at the bar after work or something like that. That's how we've always coped as a society!"

I don't know if I ultimately have a point or solution to any if this, beyond, like, a total societal shift in the way we approach labour compensation and property commodification.

I just needed to get this ranting out of my system after holding my tongue at the table, several hours ago at this point.

Because as much as I disagree with their whole approach, down to their utter lack of empathy for those suffering in a world they helped make, there wouldn't be anything meaningful for me to actually gain by engaging them on their misinformation in the heat of the moment.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to look up the difference between a fermion and a boson for a conversation I'm about to have with a paving stone.

[offsidekineticist]

I'm really nervous about this one, since...well, look at the content warnings. And this is probably the least likeable or justifiable Giliys has ever been in his life, so...also worried about that!

CW: serial killer being a serial killer, blood and gore, burn injuries, xenophobia, slavery, suicidal ideation, interupted suicide attempt

Why?

You tell your contacts that you're retiring. They don't buy it, but you don't stick around long enough for them to start asking questions. Instead you go east, to the place you always wanted to live: Andoran.

You're barely across the border when things go south. So you're so afraid of that mouse that you've forgotten our bargain?

You hold your breath. Of course she knew about Thay's threat. Of course she had been watching–she's always watching. And now you feel her rage in your soul, burning you from the inside out. Hey, boss! You think towards her, ignoring how her anger burns. Good to hear from ya! Was starting to think you mighta lost interest in little old me.

The burning only gets worse. I'd love to lose interest in you, but whenever I let you think I have, you go and pull a stunt like this.

Hey, now, there are souls in Andoran, too. And then your mind seizes on an odd bit of trivia you heard once. You know, Andoran has one of the largest aasimar populations in Avistan.

You can feel her wrath pause, intrigued. Oh?

The fire burns in your chest, but you fight your way through it to focus–'Oh,' that's all you give me? 'oh?' c'mon. We both know you love playing with heaven's toys.

The burning gets worse and you swear you can smell smoke as she speaks. Yes, heaven's toys–not its castoffs.

Aw, you know how heaven is–the second you start having fun with 'em, they suddenly won't be castoffs. C'mon. Having your hunting hound running around a country with a patron celestial who has taken a personal interest in its success? Damning aasimar souls, celestial spark and all? You love that shit, boss, don't tell me you'd rather keep taking the runaways no one will miss.

For a moment you fear you were too forward. Then a cruel laughter fills your mind and soul, replacing every thought that used to be there, piercing your eyes and ears and - You're no hound. You are a fly who fancies himself a spider, tangling yourself up in schemes and deceptions. There's a pause in her laughter, but the pain remains. Fine. You may go to Andoran. Bring me aasimar souls. Bring them often. Or I will take yours instead. Understood?

Loud'n clear, boss!

The burning sensation and piercing headache remains, but you know her attention is elsewhere now, which means it's safe for you to curl up under a tree and take huge gulps of air and wait for the pain to pass while you try not to think about what the fuck you just promised, or, even worse, what Thay would think. He would despise you even more than he already does. He doesn't understand that you don't have a choice.

But of course he doesn't understand. He's always been free. He doesn't know what it's like for your life to depend on doing as you're told. So you put him out of your mind, and once the pain has passed, you continue to Andoran.

Despite having dreamed of coming here for years, your expectations of Andoran were fairly low. You are too jaded to accept the utopia promised by the Andorens you met. You know better than to trust when tallfolk make such promises. That's why it is almost begrudgingly that you must admit it's more than you had ever hoped. You can go out at any time, day or night, without risking the notice of slavers, which is a relief. You actually hadn't realized how much that danger had weighed on you until you didn't have to deal with it anymore. There are halfling majority settlements that aren't just the slave quarters of a manor. And when people think their government is doing something stupid? They just say "I think this is stupid." No veiled doublespeak, no dog whistles, no playing coy for plausible deniability–they just say what they think and get on with their day because there aren't any black armored goons out to shut down independent thinking.

It's refreshing. It's liberating. You just want to bask in this feeling of safety as you live a normal life doing odd jobs or buying groceries. It's the salve you didn't know your soul needed. And whenever Thay crosses your mind–when your thoughts turn towards that night–you remind yourself that he'd never have agreed to come here anyway, so really you're better off this way.

And you repay Andoran for this peace by preying on its people.

The first is a musetouched aasimar named Fin Wenton. You meet him in Almas, sitting on a street corner beating out a song on his hand drum. He was a sailmaker's apprentice, he tells you, before the knife slipped and he lost most of the fingers on his right hand. "Can't make sails with no fingers," his mentor asserted, and that was that. Finn had no family, no education, no apprenticeship, and no home. "But I figured out how to drum without my right fingers, so I think maybe I got a future as a bard," he says with a crooked grin. You toss a gold coin into the hat he's using as a collection bowl, and his eyes widen in disbelief. You disappear into the crowd before he can thank you.

He spends the coin on a warm meal and a round or three of drinks in a tavern. You don't blame him. Given the shit he's been through, he deserves to unwind. He eats and he drinks until he's thrown out, and then you follow him as he stumbles into an alleyway.

You are quick. You always are. You know the spell to bind the soul to hell so well by now that you can cast it almost silently, and you learned long ago how to kill with compassion. He doesn't feel a thing. You feel the warmth of her approval burn in your soul, and you use it to incinerate the body before anyone sees. You don't search the ashes for what's left of your coin. You'd like to think there's nothing left, that he got to spend it all before he went.

The second is only two months later–so much sooner than you were expected to deliver in Cheliax. Her name is Kestrix. She has no surname because she is like you–a runaway slave from Cheliax. She is an emberkin with radiant eyes that light up even brighter when you tell her you're from Egorian. You tell her you've only been in Almas for a couple of months, and she immediately takes it upon herself to give you a crash course in the best places to buy Chelaxian spices, which places to avoid with your Chelaxian accent, and which temples will turn you away because you're damned. It takes you a moment to realize she isn't speaking of your bargain.

"It's ridiculous," she says, and her halo burns as she speaks. "You can't just say 'I'm the queen and I decree all my subjects are damned!' You can't be decreed into damnation. You have to earn it or agree to it–you can't be born into it. Obviously the Third Damnation is just a pledge that Thrune will actively evangelize for hell." She sighs tiredly. "But many of the temples in Andoran seem to think otherwise." 

"I take it your faith is important to you," you guess.

"It…it gave me hope. Kept me alive long enough to make it here," Kestrix agrees, taking a holy symbol of Milani out of her pocket. "I wanted to give something back to her–maybe become a cleric or one of her champions or something. They turned me out as soon as they heard where I was from." She chuckles in that 'I could laugh or cry' way as she stows the holy symbol in her pocket. "Imagine worshiping the goddess of the oppressed and turning away a runaway slave because of where she's from. Imagine missing the point that badly." And then she sighs. "But the Everbloom's following is small. There's just the one temple in all of Almas."

"I think I ran into a congregation the other day, actually," you lie. "They're easy to miss cuz they just have an old barn instead of a church."

You curse yourself and your lies because her eyes light up as she demands that you lead her there. She dies in the barn, her throat slashed as she bends down to inspect something shiny in the dirt (it is the coin you left there before you first spoke to her). She must see you coming, because she jerks back suddenly as you strike–not enough to save her, but enough that it isn't instant. She stands up straight and holds a hand to her wounded neck. You see her lips move, but there is no sound. You've stolen her voice, but she doesn't need her voice to be understood. You can read her lips easily enough.

Why?

She collapses, and you have no answer.

You wonder if you should say a prayer to Milani–apologize for stealing away her follower. You decide against it. The only thing it might accomplish is getting you smited, and you still want to live.

The third is a plumekith aasimar named Yantur from Vudra with bright blue and red feathers that remind you of a parrot. He came to Avistan by way of Jalmeray looking for trouble.

"My family are padaprajnas–warriors. I am untested, so I travel to find the fight and prove myself."

"There not enough trouble in Vudra for you?" You ask with a wry grin, and Yantur laughs.

"Truthfully, I've always wanted to travel. And even in Vudra we have heard tell of the successes of Mendev's Fifth Crusade against the worldwound. I want to join that fight. I would be proud to tell my grandchildren I was part of that fight."

His plan is to find a caravan going northwards and ask to pay his way by working as a guard. Tonight, he says, he will seek shelter at the Temple of Irori, because he knows nobody in the city.

"I know where that is–I can show you," you offer, and Yantur's eyes narrow.

"I think I can manage myself, thank you," he says, suddenly looking you up and down, as if seeing you for the first time. He pays for his meal and says farewell. You likewise pay for your meal and follow him from the shadows.

You only make it a few blocks away from the tavern when he stops. You duck behind a trash barrel obscured by shadows to hide. He stands still for what feels like an eternity, not speaking, not moving, just standing completely still.

His body launches towards you. His foot crashes through the trash barrel, first one side, then the other, and you barely have enough time to step aside. Somehow Yantur is able to land on his feet, and he renews his attack.

"Behold the light of perfection!" Yantur recites as he pushes both hands, palms outwards, towards you. You suddenly feel sluggish, weaker–more vulnerable, somehow.

Oh shit.

You targeted a fucking paladin.

You need to get out of here. You don't fight toe-to-toe with fucking paladins. If you have a problem with a paladin, you slit his throat while he sleeps and then slink away undetected. And right now, you are very, very detected.

A foot crashes into the side of your head. Your head snaps to the side suddenly, and you completely lose your balance. It's hard to say if it's the blow to the head or the smiting, but you're seeing stars and can't tell which way is up.

A boot presses down on your neck. "Who do you serve?" Yantur the Paladin (apparently) demands, and as you fight to win yourself room to breathe, pushing up on the boot with both hands, you realize there's a very good chance of this overzealous novice killing you by accident. You need to get out from under this boot now. So you do what you hate: you call out through the bargain that binds you to hell. The wrath of hell itself flows through your soul, burning worse than any of your mistress's punishments, ready to do your bidding–if you can control it.

"Tell me who you serve!" Yantur commands.

"Take a wild guess," you croak, and you push that hell wrath from your soul into his. Tongues of hellfire flare from your hands. He jumps back, startled and burnt, but it makes little difference. You force yourself to your feet as a stream of hellfire flows from your fingertips to the paladin's chest, burning him alive. You see the moment he realizes what you are doing–that wide-eyed look of terror as he realizes he is bound to you by hellfire, and so through your soul, he's bound to hell.

"No! No! Please, no!" he pleads, but hell shows no mercy and so neither do you. You watch shapes form in the hellfire, watch as the hands of the damned reach out and grab a faintly glowing spirit and pull it out of Yantur's body. 

The body collapses, and the hands of hellfire, gripping Yantur's soul, abruptly retreat, rushing into your chest, using your soul as the conduit to carry Yantur to hell. You are alone, in an alleyway beside a body that still breathes, whose heart still beats, but will never wake again. You look down at your own smoldering, red, blistering hands. This is why you hate using hellfire–it always burns you too.

Fucking paladins.

And then, sitting alone beside that smoldering corpse, you realize: Yantur smited you. You're no altar boy, but even you know a paladin's smite only affects evil.

Evil. You? No, that couldn't be–you're not good, by any means, but evil? That's a little over the top. But it must be true–the paladin's magic worked on you. The universe has stood in judgment over you and decided you are evil.

That is fucking bullshit! Yes, you do some fucked up shit. Yes, you work for a fucking devil. But you hate it! Doesn't that count for something? What kind of evil person hates being evil? Would an evil person torture himself by learning his victims names and hopes and dreams because somebody should remember them? And it's not like you had a choice–if you don't send souls to hell, she'll call in your soul earlier. Your life is at stake–you shouldn't be judged on shit you do to save yourself. What else are you supposed to do? Lay down and die?

Thay would.

The thought hits you like a ton of bricks, and only partly because it's a thought about Thay. Thay would absolutely die before damning anyone to hell. He tried to damn himself to spare a stranger from hell, for fuck's sake. Of course that's only because Thay is unbelievably, almost impossibly good, but that's the point, isn't it? If he were damned, Thay would rather die than drag anyone else down to hell with him, so he's good. You would drag all of Golarion down with you for a chance to live just one more day, so you're evil.

It's not fucking fair! You tried to be good, to make the world better! And you had! All those people you ferried to freedom–that's why you had to live, that's why you couldn't just lay down and die, and then that was stolen from you by a self-righteous bleached out librarian. That night, when he told you he'd kill you if you didn't quit your work with the Bellflower Network, he didn't just end your friendship. He stole your reason to live.

…Except he didn't, did he? Because if he had, you would have chosen death by now. Freeing slaves wasn't why you served a devil. It was just how you made yourself feel better about it.

You stare at the living corpse on the ground, and suddenly you find yourself asking the same question Kestrix asked: why? Why was this young man, who had chosen to travel across half the world to fight demons in the service of his god, damned to hell? Why was his corpse on the ground beside you? This time you know the answer.

He was damned for eternity to buy you a couple more months.

You stand over the body, and for the first time since Thay kicked you out–or maybe the first time in your life–the fog clears, and you understand. 

You're approaching sixty. Middle aged for a halfling. Halfway through. You can spend the next sixty or seventy or maybe even eighty years doing this, damning innocents so you have a few more months before you're put on a rack in hell–or you can cut to the chase. And if there's anything good left in you, you know what you have to do.

You take your dagger from its sheath. It's a good blade. Balanced, easy to sharpen, and it actually fits your hands. You've taken a lot of lives with this dagger. Fitting that the last one you take with it will be yours. You know how to do it quick enough you won't have time to regret it–you've done it to others enough, doing it to yourself would be easy as pie.

And then your thoughts are interrupted. A voice rings clearly in your mind–but not the voice of your master. It's the voice of Qweck–Thay's daughter in all but name (who hates your guts).

Meet me in the Temple of Aroden in Rego Cader, Westcrown. I need your help. Name your price, I'll pay, just please be here.

You want to say no. You should say no–too much risk of Thay finding out and deciding to carry out his threat. But if it's bad enough that she's asking you for help and offering a blank check in return, then she must be in real trouble. And even if Thay did ruin that story you told yourself about why you damned souls–or maybe partly because of that–you owe him. You owe him for making him your accomplice in this. You owe him for not being the person he believed you could be. And that means you have to help his family.

I'm in Andoran. I'll be there as soon as I can.

Whatever the problem is, you can afford to help out. You'll still have your dagger when you're done.

[georgieluz]

Hey

do you write any fan fictions? If so do you think you could give us a little overview of what you’re currently working on? No pressure.

hello! thanks for the ask, i do indeed write fic! ofc i can give you an overview of what i'm working on atm :) i tried to not make this too long as it's just an overview, but feel free to ask me to expand on any of these! i do actually wanna talk more about my fic but i just never know if people wanna read posts about it or just wait until i upload the fic itself. do people want extracts? information about aus? character stuff? idk??? lemme know if you wanna know more, i'm chucking in a read more too bc it got a bit long

a hbo war f1 au. [working title: you're crashing, but you're no wave]. okay, so this is probably the biggest scale thing i'm working on atm. it's multi-chaptered and atm i've been writing it in an almost serialised format, since it's got quite a few narrative strands and numerous characters from both band of brothers and the pacific. i probably would have included some gen kill characters too, but i hadn't watched the show when i was planning and starting to write this, and i don't wanna add too much more into it, so i've stopped myself. i've written a lot for this one and i'm considering posting a few chapters soon. if you wanna know about any character's role in this one feel free to send me another ask because i'd love to talk about them more!! some are drivers (we've got rookies, seasoned drivers, eight-time world champions, the lot!!), some are behind the pit wall in management and engineering roles, some are retired drivers, etc etc. but yeah, it's andy haldane's final season before he plans to retire and let's just say the racing world has decided it's going to be the most chaotic yet! i'll drop some clues about what it entails: snafu and liebgott scrapping their way into weekly dnfs until one of them is kicked from the team. rookie driver eugene sledge having to deal with the consequences. webster somehow making it into his dream team with his dream teammate, yet, his focus remains on beating one person and one person alone. eddie jones is the very successful (and very hot) team principal of andy's rival team. hoosier is there being his usual self. leckie is the f1 journo who somehow knows everything about everyone and boy, the fans love it. we also have the much-loved fan favourite george luz and his race day engineer carwood lipton! retired-world-champion-now-team-principal dick winters and his ex-teammate boyfriend lewis nixon! and i also have a fair few OCs for this au, they aren't written romantically with any of the boys though, but i love them a lot! i might do a post about them later.

next up, is my k-company space pirates au! [working title: one way trigger (step inside the sun)] ok so it probably won't sound very piratey right now, but stick with me, ok? this is actually the one i'm enjoying writing the most right now. i've drafted all the chapters (6-8 depending on whether i cut this one incident or not) and i've written a lot for this too, so i'll probably be posting this one first. very basic synopsis: eddie jones is an expert in data retrieval. eddie jones is also on the run, and a very, very wanted man. maybe the most wanted fugitive in the galaxy. through an unfortunate twist of fate, romus burgin has been dragged along for the ride. andy haldane was a highly respected intergalactic officer, a captain loved by his men and the authorities above them alike. he also risked it all to aid in their escape. now, he's harbouring them both on his grandfather's old and battered ship, picking up a small ragtag team along the way. whilst they're trying to lay low, a distress call, with a code embedded into the message, is sent directly to the ship. one of the team recognises the code and realises it could only have come from one other person in the whole universe, someone asking for his help, someone he could never say no to. it's the worst time, possibly ever, for them to go on a rescue mission but somehow that's what they're doing.

then we have, an early 2000s battle of the bands au. this is mostly band of brothers, but a few people from one company in the pacific does have a role in the narrative, i'll leave that as a surprise though. basically, george luz enters his newly formed garage band into the campus annual battle of the bands competition, certain that they have a decent enough chance at winning. his bandmates disagree. especially after they see who they're up against. this is actually my other favourite to write at the moment! maybe even more so than the k-company space pirates one. it's a chaptered fic, but i'm trying to keep it contained and not super super long. i'm hoping to keep it at around 6-8 chapters max, but i have a bad habit of not sticking to my drafts, so we'll see. but yeah, i'm having a lot of fun with this and feel free to ask me about who the band members are and other roles that other characters will have!

call it fate, call it karma. aka, my 'eddie jones made it home from the war, but andy haldane did not' oneshot. i'm almost finished writing it, i just have a fair bit of editing to finish up.

the ballroom extravaganza. my winnix spy au! the intelligence officer to secret agent pipeline is too real and lew must suffer the consequences, i'm afraid! i've got this drafted and partially written as a two-shot but it's begging to be expanded on, so i've got it waiting in limbo right now, whilst i decide what i'm gonna do. someone make the decision for me please?

i have two male OCs that i've written for liebgott and nixon, if you wanna know more about them then i'm happy to talk about them and introduce them, but i'm not sure how much people would wanna know so i'll wait.

i have another OC based off a friend that i'm almost finished writing a thing for, i just have to change some things to fit the overall series better.

i also have a silly little thing that i wrote up bc i got depressed and hyperfixated on the tv show bondi rescue for the last two weeks resulting in me basically planning a whole bondi rescue lifeguard au for the pacific boys. i have no idea if anyone other than me would be into that so it'll probably stay in my scrivener files lmao

then i just have some vague gen kill things partially planned but they need a lot more work before they see the light of day lmao. but yes, they're all fucking bradnate. apart from the one bradnatemike thing that my brain begged me to consider, which i promptly gave in to right away.

anyway, sorry i know that was supposed to be an overview but it turned into a very long overview. oops.

[sepublic]

So as I've said, I hate the prison/cop storyline in Crystalized. It goes on for way too long and is just inherently ridiculous to me, and it just feels like it goes nowhere, and detracts from stuff we actually want to see? I don't care about cops, they're the lamest, least interesting antagonists for the ninja to go up against. They're just so inherently incompetent and bureaucratic, but suddenly we have to take them seriously now? I can't take Hounddog McBrag seriously, and he's not funny, none of them are. They're just annoying.

I get wanting to create stakes with freeing Aspheera and getting her staff, but you now what I would've loved to see? We have the setup of that judge whose name I won't remember, and how he's super hard and whatnot. The ninja brace themselves for the worst... And he lets them off with community service, in the form of continuing their heroics.

Because we'd had the season start off with people mourning Nya, honoring her!!! Not just the ninja but the citizens themselves sending lanterns, and it's what contributes to Nya returning! You're telling me nobody had any thoughts about the fact that the ninja brought back their hero? When Crystalized showed the civilians almost upset at the ninjas' verdict, I expected there to be some sort of follow through, especially with the Nya tribute beforehand. Like we'd see the people of Ninjago band together in defense of the ninja, allowing them this one mistake after everything they've done selflessly, and for free, compared to incompetent cops who get paid with their tax dollars to fail.

I thought that must've been the reason for introducing that annoying mayor character, but then nothing really happens with him? There's just a gag about him running away and that's it. No aftermath or consequences to his career or anything. Why did I have to sit through this guy if we didn't have the common folk of Ninjago forcing him to relent and pardon the ninja on this one, understandable mistake. In fact it feels like Crystalized kinda just forgot about a lot of the mayor/cop setup in the latter half.

On the one hand, I don't want any more time wasted on that. On the other, don't bring it up if you won't go through with it either? Likewise, I had mixed feelings about the new ninja because...

It feels like the narrative is trying to make you hate them, but up until they start being bootlickers for the mayor, the audience has no real reason to dislike them? I was mostly impressed by the fact that some people actually took the ninjas' heroics to heart by taking up the same mantle, and doing a somewhat decent job at it too!

And yeah the ninja are jealous and salty about being 'replaced', but that just feels petty and insecure. Isn't it better for everyone that there's more ninja, more people going around to help? What if something happened offscreen during Season 13, when they were stuck in a mountain way up north? And it's especially hypocritical because like. Can you blame these guys for stepping up, when y'all had temporarily retired from being ninja; If not you guys, who else?

Like yeah there's some minor, passive-aggressive remarks towards our ninja about being old or whatever but like... Up until they're bootlickers, there's nothing morally wrong with them doing exactly what the ninja are doing. Just because they're not as good as the ninja doesn't change the fact that at least they're trying. So on the one hand, I hated the new ninjas' role in that entire prison subplot. But on the other hand, inherently, the concept of them is not as bad as the show makes it out to be, and it's interesting how Dragons Rising, with its different writers, doesn't have Arin be demonized for trying to 'replace' the ninja. Because he shouldn't be, of course.

And now I can't help but wonder if we could've had an alternate ending to the new ninja subplot where our own ninja realize there's nothing actually wrong with these guys and they shouldn't take it personally, it's not much different than Wu's self-pitying and moping about how he's too old and useless in S13. But at least Wu welcomes his new ninja, so OUR ninja maybe should've had a brief development in welcoming a new generation, to set up them maturing, this being the finale, and Dragons Rising taking place with a new cast?

But yeah; We did not need to waste so many episodes on that whole thing. You could've subverted expectations in a heartwarming way by having the judge explain how he had a loved one who almost died when Wojira flooded the city, only for Nya to save them, and as a result he can't blame the ninja for wanting to bring back Nya in their gratitude and love as well. You'd still have the stakes beforehand of the heist, but then it's wrapped up and resolved in a way that pays off earlier setup and ties everything together. And we could spend actual screentime like IDK;

-Nya and Pixal's dynamic and the fact that they're both Samurai X

-The villains interacting with each other more

-Harumi having more of a redemption arc

-Vania and Benthomaar adjusting to being royalty

-Vania having an actual conflict with Vangelis, which would help to expand on his characterization that fans found lacking in S13

-Literally anything else

I don't mind Sally, what she represents is actually really important but there are so many different ways they could've incorporated her, and even then she only takes up one episode. Everything else easily could've been thrown out. I know it sounds silly because I'm a grown adult getting salty about legos but tbf I started watching this series when I was a kid, and that’s how long it’s been going. And the writers are also adults who seem to want the fandom to take their stuff somewhat seriously so I dunno. I think part of the problem is that Ninjago has had some pretty good highs, so the lows hurt even more knowing we could be so much better than this.

[f1-birb]

it's not necessarily reading twitter or insta comments (i don't use twitter much at all anymore and i've had mclaren blocked on all socials since the ricciardo days when they were allowing their team to get harrassed too lol), but it's just like you can curate your spaces so well and you're still going to get posts recommended to you from these damn algorithms that are like “lando is washed,” “lando is going to get exposed,” and idk it gets old.

even reddit, which used to be a voice of reason when it came to actually discussing races/drivers, you cannot have a single lando thread without half the comments being about lando never winning a race or oscar beating him to the first race win and it's like oh my god. who the fuck cares. ocon got the win over alonso in 2021, do people actually think ocon is a significantly better driver than alonso. carlos got ferrari's only win and the only non-rbr win in 2023, do people really think he's significantly better than most of the grid, including his teammate charles? george is mercedes’ last race winner. do people, especially after last year, truly think he's at a higher level than lewis right now? like wins are great. i'd sacrifice my firstborn for lando to get a race win. if oscar gets one first, that's fine. it doesn't mean lando has failed or is washed up or isn't as talented. (i also feel like half of these people don't even like or care about oscar, they just want to see lando get beat. like theres this sick trend on tumblr, reddit, media in general of wanting to see oscar win first and lando fall in this unbeatable depression that has me like what the everliving fuck is wrong with you, but i also have enough decency to think actual mental health problems should be off-limits as criticisms. theres a difference between saying one driver handles pressure better than another, an actual analysis/criticism, versus wishing to see a driver struggle mentally for entertainment).

and this is nothing against oscar at all. it's pretty apparent lando likes him, the team likes him, and he's a major talent. there's just loud parts of his “fanbase” (again i use this term loosely because half these people dont seem to care as much about oscar as they do seeing lando get “exposed” or whatever the fuck) that lack the ability to praise him without shitting all over lando.

and idk. i have full belief in lando as a driver. but some of these criticisms hit pretty close to home when you follow and support him because he's the driver you find most relatable and suddenly the majority of the criticism isn't about his driving, but his character or personality and how people perceive that.

i also just think this overanalysis of his mistakes while others get this free pass because fans/media always insist on blaming the team or others (won't name names, but i have a feeling based on other of your posts/answers, you know who I'm mostly thinking about) will continue into 2024 and i just don't feel like dealing with it anymore. i'm stuck in a shitty job i'm not really enjoying until at least august, f1 used to be an escape from that, but shitty people have ruined that too. and unfortunately I've been around the media enough that even if i did watch the races on mute so i wouldn't have the shitty sky commentary to annoy me even more, i would still know subconsciously what narratives were being spread and i just don't have the emotional stability to care about this motorsport atm.

fe and indycar? sure. like i cannot tell you how many times my favorite indycar driver did not capitalize on opportunities to win last year, yet this year all of the socials are uplifting and asking for predictions on how many races he will win, not betting that he retires with every most (insert accomplishment here) without a win like f1 does. i used to call those 2 my comfort series but i don't think they provide comfort so much as they're so much less toxic than f1 that i don't have to worry about my favorite drivers being straight up harassed instead of just their driving critiqued.

i'd love to follow lando, and oscar, and the entire team through both the highs and the lows as i have for many years now, but i just don't have the energy in me anymore. it's been feeling like a chore instead of a fun little hobby to watch for a while now, and i thought i would find some enjoyment out of it again at some point, but i just can't anymore. i will definitely be sticking around to read your writing though, just maybe not commentary on race weekends.

anyway this got so very long, i'm so sorry. this isn't an airport and i don't need to announce my departure, i guess i just had a lot of things building up that i needed to get out.

no need to apologise at all, I've always said my asks are open for rants or venting or just needing to let it out

I'm sorry there's not a lot I can say to what you've said because I agree with a hell of a lot of it and fully get where you're coming from

there's no point making yourself sad, upset, angry over it and while I know it'll suck to miss out on the racing since that's what you actually care about, maybe a break sounds like a good idea actually especially if you've got life things too

I'm preeeeettty good at tagging stuff so hopefully that'll help you navigate my blog at least, but since I do post a Lot on race weekends if I post writing it's always tagged "birb writes" and that's a featured tag for easy access - but it's so sweet that you'd stick around for my writing, it means a lot <3