#he's not even a car guy. he just has to have so many backups when he inevitably wrecks yet another car.

[terrorpenned]

how many cars does roger even have. he wrecks the black one, he drives V in the white convertible, then she says she's looking for the timetables in the station wagon. unclear what car he's using in the storm but very possibly a fourth one.

[krilati]

Tim, who is not Robin, but still feral

Okay, let's say Tim's parents decide that even if their child doesn't need a nanny, they want someone to check on their son's well-being. So Tim is required to go to the doctor once a week. And after he tried to bribe his first one to just tell his parents everything was fine. Janette decided it would be someone else each time.

Tim gets a car once a week that picks him up to see a doctor he doesn't know.

That way he doesn't have time to search for dirt, and he can't bribe anyone, since everyone drinks his mother more than him.

So after Nightwing turned Tim down (Dick later claimed the boy was black-haired and blue-eyed, but since he was often hallucinating Jason at the time, even he wasn't sure). The guy realized he couldn't go to Batman and insist on being Robin. The first fracture (which is 100% likely to happen in the early days of jumping on roofs and kicking angry adults) and the doctor would hand him over to his parents.

So Tim came up with a Plan.

Batman was angry, for a month now someone, every patrol, has been standing up for criminals. If he's lucky, he manages to land 5 hits (dude, your 1 hit can put a person in the hospital, Tim just has short legs, he still needs to run to the edge of the necessary roof) when someone distracts him.

Last time, they poured a bucket of paint on his head, it became almost impossible to see through the mask. Another time, they shot paintballs at his head until he left.

There was another memorable incident when something small landed on his head, and the next moment he was attacked by bats.

But today he finally cornered the attacker, it was a child whose face was hidden behind a mask that completely covered his face, and his hair was hidden behind a hood. He slowly approached the boy, he needed to find out who he worked for. Who decided that they had the right to interfere with him punishing criminals.

Only when Batman grabbed the attacker by the shoulder he felt dizzy and then everything around him went dark. Tim quietly patted himself on the head for the backup plan of the backup plan.

After waking up, Batman did not feel calmer, on the contrary, this meeting ignited even more rage in him.

How dare this child run around Gotham so carefree when his son was killed, how dare he protect criminals when one of them killed his son, how dare he..

That day, a file on a new criminal with high priority appeared on the Batcomputer, Alfred only reproachfully pursed his lips.

By the time Red Hood escaped from Talia (Yes, he escaped here, I don't know for sure, but I think Talia was pitting Jason against Tim to ensure her son had direct access to Bruce's legacy). Batman and Tim's confrontations became legendary.

Tim even had his own name and merchandise! Several names, actually, he was called Gotham's Whisperer, the Soul of Shadow, or Little Shadow. And in various Gotham stores you could find little figurines of him with various weapons that he demonstrated during this time.

Nightwing adored the little guy, although he had never met him in person. In fact, no one except Bruce had ever encountered the kid. And although Oracle never officially supported the boy, she never warned Batman if she saw a small dark silhouette through the cameras. Although Dick really wanted to know where the kid got the sniper rifle with tranquilizers, or how he hacked the Batmobile to put a sleeping Bruce in it and send him to the Cave, or how he got so many incriminating photos of Batman that he scattered all over the city when Batman didn't take one of his threats seriously.

Simply put, Nightwing was a fan, and had wanted the kid's autograph ever since the kid evacuated an entire alley, including Bruce, by playing the sound of a pack of rabid dogs approaching.

Batman, though he had passed the peak of his rage, still made Gotham afraid if he was spotted trolling alone.

Red Hood was furious, not only did his father not have the courage to avenge him, but he also dared to splash out his aggression on anyone who was not breathing smoothly on HIS Alley of Crime.

[atleastpleasetelephone]

YoHi could you do more 50's Elvis fanfiction with other men and make it smutty if you don't mind I love your work

A/N: Of course! I thought Nick Adams would be a fun option for this, so it's set around '56. I hope you enjoy!

Hold on tight

Pairing: Elvis x Nick Adams

Word count: 1.6K

TWs: Smut, smut, smut! There's a hint of internalised homophobia but I've tried to keep it light.

It’s the millionth time this week that Elvis has seen Nick Adams, and it’s starting to piss his girlfriends off. I say girlfriends, because Elvis never was good at choosing one girl and sticking to her - he might have a main squeeze but there were always others, backups and backups of the backups… but lately they were all getting pushed out because of how much time he’s spending with Nick. The two of them just get on so well, and it’s easy for Elvis to talk to him in a way he doesn’t find it easy to talk to the guys in the Mafia. Probably because he doesn’t feel the need to be quite so macho in front of Nick, to pretend that he’s fine when he’s not. 

They’re on his Harley, driving around Memphis in the early hours of the morning when there’s no-one around to recognise them. It’s one of Elvis’ favourite things to do right now. After the success of Love Me Tender things have been getting more and more intense. Everywhere he goes now there’s a crowd of reporters and he’s surrounded by women pulling at his clothes or writing their numbers on his car. He likes it, but he also likes the escape of speeding along the empty roads on his motorcycle. Girls will go with him, but he always feels like he has to be a little more cautious when they do, to go a little slower with such precious cargo. Not so with Nick, though. With Nick he throws caution to the wind, like he’s doing right now, the other man’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist and holding on for dear life. The adrenalin courses through his veins as he accelerates even faster, riding with reckless abandon.

Nick presses his chest against Elvis’ back, heart pounding from more than just the speed of the ride. Elvis is exhilarating on his own, never mind the motorcycle. He has a kind of wildness that reminds Nick of James Dean. And, if he’s honest, he gets off on hanging around with people coming up on fame. Gets some kind of second-hand high from it, like a vampire searching for youth and power and drinking them down. Elvis hangs a left and Nick grips onto him, leaning to the right and praying he manages to stay on the Harley. He hears the other man laugh and knows it was a deliberate move to scare him a little. And it worked. He’s sitting on the back of the bike, scared and aroused. Just how he likes to be. Or is it how Elvis likes him to be? They're almost too similar. Birds of a feather. 

They finally come to a stop in one of Memphis’ many parks and tumble off the bike onto the grass, laughing together, that kind of shaky laughter that comes from time spent doing something that makes you fear for your life. 

“You ride that thing like a maniac, Presley.”

Elvis grins, wickedly. “Yeah. You love it. Clingin’ on to me like some kinda limpet.”

Nick pushes him in the side playfully. “I just don’t want to die young.”

“Dyin’ in a motorcycle crash with Elvis Presley is exactly the sorta thing you want.”

Elvis’ eyes are sparkling with amusement as Nick launches himself towards him, the pair of them rolling around on the grass, wrestling and laughing. He lets Nick win, enjoying being held down maybe a little more than he should. They’re both flushed and breathless from the play-fighting, and as Nick looks down at the other man beneath him he thinks, not for the first time, just how beautiful he is. Not handsome, or plain attractive, but actually beautiful in a way Nick didn’t think a man could be before they met. Cautiously, carefully, he leans down until his lips almost brush against Elvis’. Then he stops, afraid. Afraid of rejection, and worse than that, afraid of the death of their friendship if this isn’t what Elvis wants. 

“Aren’t ya gonna kiss me?”

The playful words break him out of his reverie and he reacts without thinking, closing the tiny gap between them and kissing his friend. His first thought is how soft Elvis’ lips are. His second thought is wondering why he didn’t do this sooner. It seems like Elvis wants it as much as he does. His lips part to let Nick’s tongue into his mouth and his strong hands pull the other man’s torso down against his own. They both feel the other’s erection at the same time, hips grinding against one another as they moan and sigh. 

Elvis’ heart is hammering in his chest. He’s wanted this for so long, but he’s been afraid. Not of what Nick would think, so much. He’s caught the other man looking at him with lust-filled eyes when he thought he wasn’t being observed. But he’s afraid of what it means, wanting another man like this. It’s against God, and nature, and absolutely not what his Mama would want him to do… but right now it feels so damn good he doesn’t care about any of that. The question of what happens next echoes in the back of his mind, floating about and trying desperately to get to the surface above all the other desperate thoughts of needing more contact and wanting to cum. 

He gasps as Nick pulls away, on his hands and knees above him now. Gasps from the shock of the sudden lack of contact. His hips buck needily and he sees a greedy look in the other man’s eyes. Nick bites his lip, drinking in the sight of that young body writhing and wanton beneath him, desperate for touch. The sudden rush of power makes him feel giddy. The realisation that he knows what he’s doing and Elvis doesn’t, and Elvis wants him just as much as he wants Elvis. With a little smirk, he moves to lie on his side, propping his head up on an elbow. 

“Turn over,” he instructs. “With your back to me.”

Elvis does as he’s told, and the other man feels him tremble as he puts his arm around him, pressing his chest into his back like they’re back on the Harley again. He kisses Elvis’ neck, tasting the salty sweat from the hot summer night. 

“N-Nick…”

“Can I touch you?” Words purred into Elvis’ ear. 

“P-please.”

Nick is briefly surprised to find him naked beneath his pants, but his surprise soon gives way to unbridled lust at the size of it. As he moves his hand up and down it feels different, and shifts slightly so he can get a look. He hasn’t seen many uncut dicks but it doesn’t phase him, if anything it’s easier not to have to worry about lubrication. Not that there’s an issue with that, precum freely leaking from the tip already. The whole thing is making him stupidly excited and his dick is positively aching. Without thinking, he shifts again, pulling Elvis’ pants down to his knees, using his other hand to direct his dick between the tops of the other man’s thighs. He tries not to get distracted by the perfect roundness of the ass in front of him, tries not to want more as he rolls his hips into it. 

Elvis stifles a moan as the hand wrapped around his dick speeds up and the other dick slides back and forth between his thighs. Is this what usually happens next? He has a feeling there’s something else, but pleasure crowds all other thoughts out of his mind. The feeling of a big, rough, experienced hand on him instead of the usual small, soft, cautious one making him feel something primal. 

“Oh God,” he mumbles, knowing he’s just a stroke or two away from ecstasy. 

Nick stops worrying about himself for a second and concentrates on Elvis, his hand in the other man’s hair, pulling his head back and exposing his perfect white throat. He runs his tongue from Elvis’ jaw to his collarbone, tasting him as he cums all over Nick’s hand with a guttural moan. Fuck. His face is so beautiful when he cums. Nick lets go of his hair and his dick at the same time, going back to the desperate pursuit of his own high, his hand gripping Elvis’ hip as he ruts against him, dick sliding between those perfect thighs, slick with precum. 

Elvis lies there, floppy as a ragdoll, letting himself be used for Nick’s pleasure until he hears his friend groan his name out loud and feels the spurt of the other man’s release on his skin. Drowsy with ecstasy, he turns over so they’re facing one another and grabs Nick’s face in both hands, kissing him passionately. They groan into one another’s mouths as their legs tangle together, oversensitive dicks rubbing against each other in a confusion of pleasure and just a little hint of discomfort. 

“Shit,” Nick mumbles against his lips. 

“What?” Elvis mumbles back, drunk on the other man’s touch. 

“You’re almost ready to go again.” 

To illustrate his point, he moves his hand to squeeze Elvis’ half-hard length. Elvis’ eyes roll back in his head at the feeling. 

“You want to?” He asks, breathlessly.

“Mhmm.”

“You wanna do it in a bed?”

Nick giggles. “Might be nice. You gonna take me back to your place?” He bats his eyelashes coquettishly. 

“Only if ya promise not to say anythin’ about my driving this time,” Elvis teases back. 

“I promise.”

Elvis looks at him through heavy-lidded eyes. “Make sure you hang on though,” he tells Nick, lips grazing the other man’s ear. “Nice and tight.”

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy @presleyhearted @lvrdollep

[kasagia]

Our little game pt. 5

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x witch! reader Summary: Klaus is making a major, huge mistake of his life, for which you are paying the price. Will you be able to forgive him? Or maybe it's too late for everything. Warning(s): angst, talk about death, Klaus fights and suffers because of Mikael, family drama, blood, violence, curses, I used some famous lines from TVD and TO Word count: 6,9k

Third person's POV | 2 hours earlier

The original hybrid left the party in a hurry, loosening his tie as he practically ran towards the parking lot. His younger brother was right behind him, barely catching up with him.

"Nik! Wait a minute!" Kol screamed, grabbing his brother's elbow and stopping him halfway. He completely ignored his hostile, stern look and continued. "We need to think it over."

"All we need to do is get rid of him from our lives once and for all!"

"We can't do it alone. We need Freya…"

"Freya will never stand against him! We're on our own unless you're a coward." the man cut him off, yanking his arm out of his grip.

"Well, let's at least take Elijah…"

"I'm not going to ruin our brother's wedding day! I already killed him once; I can do it again. We have to hurry before he calls for backup. Will you help me, or should I rely on myself?" Kol sighed as he studied his brother's determined face. If they had attacked out of the blue, they might have been able to defeat him together while he was still weakened.

"All right. But we're keeping Davina out of it."

"As well as Y/N." they nodded to each other and walked hand in hand towards the parking lot.

Klaus had to do it quietly. His little witch needed a break, and a fight with the Mikaelsons' psychopathic father wouldn't help her at all (or convince the woman to stay in New Orleans much longer than she planned). Elijah deserved a respite from his problems, and so did Rebekah. Nor could he rely on Freya's strength and power forever. After all, she wasn't immortal like them; she had her limits like any witch. Kol and he had to deal with it on their own. For everyone's sake.

"Do you even know how he managed to get back to the surface of the earth? I thought you killed him for good last time."

"Believe me, I'm just as surprised as you are."

"You think it's the mother's work? She has regained her powers and is resurrecting all our enemies from the other side?"

"You tell me. You spent a few months there before we finally begged your witch to help us bring you back. What were our parents' moods?"

"You know, I tried not to get too close to them. But I met your father; he's actually a nice guy."

"What did you say?" he asked in shock, staring at his brother in pure surprise.

"Yeah, I was surprised too when he saved me from Mikael and introduced himself as your dad. We had a bit of a fight at first, but he turned out to be a good guy."

"You met… my father."

"Maybe it's not a good time, but I think you should know that. If he somehow magically appears here, and I'm pretty sure he'll do it; he's said many times that he'll get the fuck out of here as soon as he gets a chance, you shouldn't hurt him. Hope deserves at least one normal grandpa. Ansel would be a good fit for this; he was babbling about her all the time, and my head was bursting as he raved about her. You know I love her, but how much can you talk about a baby? Hey? Nik?" he shook his brother's shoulder as he sat silently in the driver's seat, not bothering to start the car.

"How did he know about Hope?"

"He's been keeping an eye on you since… you know. He probably knows everything about you, which is actually as scary as it is cute."

Klaus continued to listen to Kol's story in silence. As he drove the car, he pondered the new message. His father watched over him.

His real father.

The one who supposedly abandoned him and didn't care for him...

Could that be true?

Could he believe it?

Allowing himself to live a boyish fantasy of having a father who truly cares for him? He could believe that Esther would be able to lie to him about his real father's feelings toward him, and it was hardly possible that Kol could be so cruel. So, could Klaus have been so lucky after all?

Could he have had the love of his true father, the beloved daughter who was the light in his dark life, and the love and devotion of a woman he wanted more than anything in this world?

Could Klaus, after so many years of pain, sorrow, and fury, be given such enormous blessings?

He found out a few hours later.

He found out a few hours later, when he and Kol were returning as fast as they could to their family after Mikael nearly killed them two. However, it wasn't just the two of them in the car on their way back...

~•♤♤♤•~

"Father! Come, come wherever you are!"

It was supposed to go fast and smoothly. Klaus was supposed to act as bait (after arguing with Kol for several hours, they played paper, rock, scissors, and he lost… 10 times), and Kol was meant to heroically step in with a white oak stake and try to kill their father.

Piece of cake. Nothing possible could go wrong.

But it did. Very, very quickly.

They underestimated Mikael's ability to win people over. While Klaus was able to single-handedly take down his father's band of minions and come out of the fight uninjured, the fight against Mikael proved to be more of a challenge. Especially since he had a bit of an advantage over them...

"You're alone, boy? Did your siblings finally abandon you?"

"Don't worry about them. I don't need anyone else to help me send you back to hell."

"Very courage from your side to assume you can kill me all alone. Or stupid. I think the second one suits you much better. You didn't change at all, Niklaus. Thousand years, and you're still a quick-tempered, impulsive boy seeking the approval of others. I guess you've never learned from your mistakes. But it's even better for me. It'll be so easy to finally end your miserable life."

"Thousand years of trying, and you were never close enough. What makes you sure this time will be different?"

"This time, I know your weakness." Klaus' heart stopped for a moment in fear. He couldn't talk about Hope. His daughter was safe with Hayley, the pack, surrounded by Freya and Y/N with all sorts of protective spells.

"I don't have any."

"Don't you?" he looked at him carefully with a sinister smirk on his lips. "Then let me remind you. The blonde one, powerful witch you've met not so long ago. Y/N, right? Her blood must taste ambrosial with such magic running through her veins. She would make such a beautiful corpse, don't you think? "Klaus' composure dropped to zero, and his and Kol's plan went to hell. No one will threaten his witch, especially Mikael.

Without thinking, he lunged at the man, trying to punch him in the face. Mikael braced for his outburst, grabbed his fist, and twisted his arm. Klaus shouted, twisting his hand out of his grip, and pushing him to the boxes behind him. Mikael staggered, trying to regain his balance. The hybrid took advantage of this by throwing a metal rod at him and speeding towards him with the intention of snapping his neck. The older man grabbed the object flying towards him, pierced Klaus' side, and pushed, sending him crashing to the floor.

Klaus pulled the metal out of his body, but the wound on his side wouldn't heal. Suddenly he felt as if his whole body was on fire; every nerve in his body shot through with unimaginable pain. He felt as if his mother had put a curse on him, cutting him off from his werewolf side.

Suddenly, a circle of fire formed around him, and none other than the mother of the originals emerged from the shadows, muttering a familiar spell that began the 1,000-year search for the doppelgänger and the moonstone. Panic rose in him, along with the pain he felt.

NO! He couldn't go through it again!

"Who'll fight for you now, boy?!" Mikael shouted, walking slowly over to him and pulling a white oak stake from his coat pocket, patiently waiting for his wife to finish her spell and get rid of her unwanted son from their lives once and for all.

"I will." Kol stepped out of the shadows, pushing his father away from the circle where his older brother was trapped. Mikael laughed, looking at his son with contempt.

"I was wondering which of you would come to rescue this abomination. I never expected you'd be the first one to protect him. Wasn't he the one who locked you in a coffin for centuries? Will you defend him after what he did to you? You know best of all what he's capable of. Don't you want revenge? To see him suffer for all his sins against you? Join us, my son. Let's do justice to him together."

"Forgive me, father. I'm not on the retirement team." Mikael's smirk fell, and an ominous, dark look returned in its place.

"So you will watch your failure."

Mikael threw himself at his son in an instant, overpowering him. He turned his back to him and clamped his hand around his neck, forcing him to watch as his brother writhed on the floor in pain, occasionally getting close enough to the fire to sear him. Kol shuddered.

"In a moment, your mother will finish reciting the spell, and your treacherous brother will become nothing but a vampire again, and then... I will pierce him through before your eyes, son, so that you will remember once and for all how those who oppose me end up. Maybe then you'll join us."

"I'd rather die." Kol growled, trying to wriggle out of his father's grip.

"So you will."

And then, when everything seemed over for the two siblings and all hope of survival was lost, the appearance of one person changed the fate of the originals.

Suddenly, a wooden bolt shot out of the darkness of the building and pierced Esther's stomach, causing her to break her spell. The woman fell to the floor, screaming. Another wooden stake flew towards Mikael, who was forced to let go of Kol and catch the flying piece of wood before it hit him.

Klaus stopped shaking in pain, taking quick, heavy breaths. He used his remaining strength to look at his savior.

It couldn't be true…

"Get away from my son!"

Ansel jumped off the container, falling right in front of Klaus and shielding him with his own body. He held his crossbow high, aiming it at an angry Mikael. Kol stood beside him, handing him a white oak stake, which Mikael dropped and took out their weapons himself.

"I've already killed you once!"

"And I can already tell you that this time the ending will be different. Now, get out of here, or I will skin you for what you have done to MY SON."

"What can you do to me?! I'm a vampire, the original! Some weak werewolf can't kill me!"

"Be careful. That weak werewolf has many friends, and some of them..." Mikael and Esther cried out in pain as they fell to their knees on the floor. "Are very powerful witches. Touch my son again, and I'll kill you right away, without a blink. But for all of this, you've already done to him..." more bolts fired from his crossbow, wounding the parents of the originals. Most of them were aimed at the seething with anger Mikael.

"Kol. Take your brother out. I'll join you in a second."

"Are you sure, old man?"

"Yes. Just give me a few seconds." Kol nodded uncertainly to him, not wanting to leave Ansel alone with his parents at all. But the younger original carefully took his exhausted brother into his arms and carried him outside at vampire speed.

The werewolf took a few steps towards the kneeling two, firing the few bolts he had left at the man. Esther screamed shrilly beside them as the witches continued to torture her with their magic.

"I'll make sure you suffer in ways even your cruel, psychopathic mind can't imagine and believe me... a thousand years on the other side teaches great creativity and patience, Mikael." Ansel drove one of the stakes through Esther's heart and watched with satisfaction as the woman who had kept his only son away from him fell to the floor dead. "He'll suffer one more time because of you, and I'll make sure you don't get any peace even on the other side. I hope you understand."

"This whore of his will die before he gets to her! You won't protect him from that."

"We'll see. Again, please!" Mikael howled louder in pain as the witches strengthened their attack. Ansel smiled slightly.

Ansel left the warehouse, leaving the vampire writhing in pain behind him. He had more important things on his mind than torturing him. His son needed him, and he wasn't going to spend a single minute doing anything other than helping him.

After all, family was the most important thing. For always and forever.

~•♤♤♤•~

Kol drove the car, watching the two men in the back seat in the mirror. Ansel told him to get back to their siblings as soon as possible, especially Y/N.

The original had already learned on the other side that it was better to follow his orders. Ansel usually knew what he was doing, and after saving Kol countless times, he had the younger vampire's full trust.

Klaus could be a little more like him.

"What are you laughing at there, jester?" Ansel asked, looking up from his sleeping son and noticing the smirk on Mikaelson's face.

"Don't get offended, but he is nothing like you."

"I know, and I'm proud of him. He's his own person."

"Elijah will be delighted when you tell him that. Another believer in Nik's redemption."

"He is my son. Of course I believe in him and want the best for him." Kol's face morosed as he remembered how, just an hour ago, his father had tried to kill him and nearly ended his brother's life. "Don't make such a face. He is not your father. No father would make his child suffer. He doesn't deserve your attention, thoughts, or anything."

"But he's right about one thing. We are monsters."

"No. You're all lost. You may be a thousand years old, but really you are like children who have not been taught how to be adults. You know no other way to deal with your emotions than to succumb to this bloodlust. The worst of all is that you've allowed yourselves to be told that you are monsters when everything you do is out of your will to survive or strong feelings."

"A living ticking time bomb, eh?"

"If that's what you want to call it." Ansel murmured, shifting his gaze to his only son. Kol glanced at the two men in a car mirror.

Klaus will be damn surprised to see such a caring and tender look in his biological father's eyes. But he deserved it. After everything Miakel and Esther had put him through—what they all went through because of their parents—they deserved a normal, healthy relationship.

Kol would give anything to have someone like a werewolf for a dad.

"He needs you. Don't fuck it up." instead of admitting this childish desire to himself, he decided to warn Klaus' father. 

"I'm not going to waste my chance, Kol. This is rarely: to come back from the other side."

"I'm still going to keep my eye on you. Especially around Hope."

"I would expect nothing less from you."

"Good. Wake up our princess. We're almost there."

~•♤♤♤•~

They expected it to be hard. Some hidden group of vampires and witches ready to attack at any moment, maybe a few deadly traps await them.

They wouldn't have expected the house to go up in flames. Vampires didn't usually die from fire... but humans did.

Klaus got out of the car the moment he saw the burning building. He didn't care that Kol hadn't stopped the car yet or that his newly found father was sitting right next to him.

All the original hybrid had on his mind was getting to Y/N as fast as he could.

He screamed her name and ran like a madman through the collapsing house. She had to be around here somewhere, unless she evacuated. The man did not allow even the slightest thought that his beloved could be trapped in the building, dead from the fire. He had to find her, lock her in a safe place, defeat Mikael, and return to his love, only to finally reveal his feelings to her and keep her with him where she belonged. There was no other way out of this situation.

However, Klaus, despite his best efforts, found someone completely different.

Katherine Pierce-Mikaelson lay unconscious among the collapsing ruins of the hall. Klaus stopped. Dark thoughts flooded his mind. How easy it would be to leave her here once and for all and let some stray plank fall and pierce her stoned heart. He shook his head.

Whether he wanted it or not, she was part of the family now. And he never left them behind. (Also, Y/N wouldn't approve of him leaving her friend to die. Elijah wouldn't be too pleased either.)

He took her in his arms and carried her out of the building. He laid her down on the grass, checking to see if she was injured.

"NIKLAUS! KATERINA!" Klaus raised his head, turning his gaze to his brother, who was running towards them. "Is she okay?! Where is Kol?! KOL?!" the elder brother rushed home after making sure his wife and Klaus were okay.

The hybrid caught up with him and grabbed his jacket, stopping him from entering the building.

"He is fine. Have you seen Y/N?" Elijah fell silent, looking away from his younger brother. Klaus grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to look into his eyes. "WHERE IS Y/N?!" he shouted, shaking him.

"Niklaus..." the hybrid didn't even bother to listen to him.

He let go of the lapels of his jacket and ran towards the collapsing building, but before he could get close to the fire, his brother caught him. Klaus tried to break free from his grip. They both fell to the ground, fighting until the younger original snapped the older's neck.

"NIK!" his sister's scream stopped him from going home again, he ran towards her. Rage and fear shone in his eyes.

"WHERE IS SHE?!" he shouted at the jittery blonde. He had to get to Y/N, and his sister's tearful, devastated face didn't show she was safe. His anxiety and panic only increased as he searched Rebekah's eyes for any answer.

"She... she is in our house." Klaus had never felt such need and blissful relief flood him so quickly. Unfortunately, it left him as fast as it came. "She is in transition."

The original froze. He felt as if the whole world stopped around him for a moment. The one thing Klaus wasn't sure how Y/N would take in their (then very likely) future relationship was her possible transformation into a vampire. Now that it was actually happening, Klaus worried what his beloved's reaction would be.

"What? But... how?"

"Our father's minions attacked the building. Elijah and I managed to escape in time and evacuate Freya. Katherine was supposed to join us with Y/N, ​​but they never showed up. We went back into the building and found her with a metal rod in her chest. We thought she was dead, but Freya did some weird tricks on her, and it turned out she had vampire blood in her system. Your blood, Nik. I'm so sorry."

"They attacked Katerina. They snapped her neck when she tried to help Y/N. We need to find them and Mikael. They will die for what they did." he growled, preparing a very savage plan of attack in his head.

He would destroy those who hurt his love. They will be begging him to send them to hell quickly.

"Klaus! You knew that, right? That our father returned. Is that why you disappeared with Kol? You went to kill him on your own and you lost. You provoked him, so now it's our fault that Y/N is dead."

"YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT MY PLANS WERE!" he shouted furiously. Rebekah had no right to say that when all he was doing was trying to protect Y/N and his family.

"THAT'S THE PROBLEM, NIK, IT'S ALWAYS YOUR PLANS AND NEVER OURS! And now Y/N is dead and it's all your fault!"

"SHE'S NOT DEAD! SHE WILL BE WITH US FOREVER AFTER TURNING INTO A VAMPIRE!"

"SHE WILL NEVER FEED!"

Her sudden statement restored complete silence, broken only by the sound of the burning house. Klaus quickly came to the conclusion that the sound of the fire burning in the fireplace, instead of bringing him relief and peace as before, would become the cause of his anxiety, a memory of the fear and horror he felt today. Another trauma for the collection.

"What?"

"She won't be one of us. She will die, Nik, and you will have the blood on your hands of the only person who has ever truly loved you."

"YOU'RE LIAR! SHE WOULD NEVER LEAVE ME!" he shouted, feeling the tears start to gather dangerously in his eyes.

"Are you sure?"

Klaus screamed, rushing furiously at his sister, but a strong hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Be calm, son. Don't do something you'll regret. We'll go in turn. We'll kill Miakel first and then deal with Y/N, right?"

"And who the bloody hell are you?" Rebekah asked, eyeing the newcomer suspiciously. Especially when her brother hadn't ripped his arm off or maimed him after he touched him.

"Rebekah, this is my father... Rebekah!" Klaus screamed as the blonde vampire walked over to the older man and slapped him across the face.

"It's okay, Niklaus. I think I deserved it." Ansel groaned in pain, clutching his sore cheek.

"What do you want from him?" she growled, shielding her brother from him with her body. The Mikaelsons' experience had taught them to be careful in their dealings with their parents. They didn't have a very good experience. Klaus, on the other hand, rolled his eyes at his sister's protectiveness. If Ansel wanted to hurt him, he would have done so long ago; he certainly wouldn't have saved him from the clutches of death. Which didn't mean he trusted his father. He would have to deserve it and prove his good intentions to the sibling.

"I want to protect him. He's my son."

Klaus' heart beat faster. His son. It had been a long time since anyone had said that about him (he doubted he'd ever heard those words spoken with such pride and feeling). After all, Klaus wasn't made of stone. He could pretend his father's attitude didn't bother him, but he guessed they all knew how it affected the cruel hybrid. But before their big family meeting about Ansel could take place, they had to defeat their parents. And nothing unites and strengthens family bonds like hunting down their enemies.

"I threw the newlyweds in the car! If you've finished this dramatic scene, get your ass to the car before we all burn up from this fire, behind you, idiots!"

Maybe Klaus would have taken his father into the family after all. He would make a great replacement for his annoying little brother...

~•♤♤♤•~

Y/N's POV

I groaned as I slowly began to regain consciousness.

My head was bursting like hell, my throat felt like a desert, and the lights of the New Orelan lanterns that flooded into the room blinded me, causing me additional pain.

I felt like I had a huge, unforgettable hangover.

However, I don't remember much from last night. I guess I got drunk at the wedding faster than I thought and ended up in Klaus' bedroom again. At least he cleaned up after our recent… activities.

I slowly got out of bed. The world seemed to spin in my head. I closed my eyes, trying to compose myself. Suddenly, I heard an awfully loud jazz band playing in the streets of New Orleans. I swallowed, wondering who normal plays at night under other people's windows.

Someone entered the house with a bang, slamming the door mercilessly behind them. I hissed, clutching my throbbing head in pain. I've never had such a big hangover in my life.

Klaus came in covered in blood. Instantly, I felt the excitement flooding into my body, and my tongue moved to wet my chapped lips. I felt hotter in the room. My god, I fucked him only 24 hours ago, I couldn't be such a whore to him.

"Y/N." he sighed, standing stunned in the doorway. Well, he probably wasn't expecting me in his bedroom again.

"After all the noise outside, I can tell you didn't get rid of those musicians after all. Who did you fight? And please don't tell me it was Elijah." I asked, trying to control my sudden and unexpected turning on by the hybrid in the blood. Fucking hormones before a period.

"Noise?"

"Do not change the subject. With your super-hearing, there's no way you can't hear it." the man gave me a concerned look as he approached me. "Okay, I'm starting to worry. What happened to you?"

"Y/N..." he whispered, reaching for me, but I took a step away from him and wrinkled my nose.

"There's no way I'm letting you hug me or even touch me when you're covered in blood. Know my good heart, I'll clean you." I made a familiar flick of my wrist, but to my surprise, nothing happened… my magic didn't even move in my veins. I tried again, but nothing happened. I transferred my annoyed, hostile gaze to the original. What right did he have to lock me up in his house and block access to my magic?! "What the hell have you done to my magic?! Why did you keep it from me?! What kind of game are you playing right now?!"

"Y/N, I need you to calm down..."

"DON'T TOUCH ME! What did you do to me?! Why can't I feel my power?!"

"I'm so sorry, love."

"No… you can't just imply that… No." I shook my head in disbelief, unable to accept what he was trying to tell me. He must have been making cruel fun of me. But his painful, worried expression indicated otherwise.

"You're in a transition, Y/N."

"No, no, no. I can't! I didn't even drink a vampire's blood or die!"

"You drank from me last night, and today at the wedding, my father's minions disrupted the party. They started a fire and…"

"NO! You're lying! I can't be a vampire!"

"Y/N, please just listen to me..." he took a step towards me, but I backed away from him in panic, afraid to be so close to the man covered in blood... I could smell the wonderful, intoxicating smell of the red liquid on him.

"DON'T come closer. It is impossible. Are you playing some sick game, or is that some fucking plan of yours? A way to get me stuck here?"

"You think I'd stoop so low that I could do something like that to you? One of the few people I care about more than myself?!"

"You tell me. I don't know you."

"Do you really want to argue the same thing over and over again? When do we both know the truth?"

"I'm in transition, I'm scared, I'm angry, and I feel like my whole body is on fire with pain, and you're still able to bring everything back to our fucked-up relationship? You are an unbelievable narcistic psycho."

"Well, I know a very simple solution to your problems." he walked over to his desk and opened a drawer, leaving a bloodstain on the wood. He turned back to me, tossing me a bag of blood. "Drink."

"Are you crazy?! I'm not going to turn into that bloodthirsty thing that you are!"

"I've never heard such a beautiful compliment, love. Now. Drink. Before I pour it down your throat."

"You can't fucking make me!" I screamed, throwing a bag against the wall, which wasn't a good idea at all as its contents started to run down the wall, creating a small puddle on the floor. My gums involuntarily itched. My stomach rumbled as the delicious smell of fresh blood hit my nostrils.

I closed my eyes, sighing as I tried to control the overwhelming hunger. Klaus took advantage of my moment of weakness, coming over to me and enclosing me in a tight, strong hug. The smell of blood that covered him attacked my senses.

It was funny how his arms were both the only place that could bring me peace and make me fearful of the inner need caused by the vampire blood in my system.

"I can see how you are struggling and how persistently you are trying to overcome it. But why fight it? Why when you can get so much? Have you ever thought about the benefits of being a vampire? Your lovely, pretty face will never age a day, being able to dazzle others with its unimaginable beauty forever. All human diseases and ailments will disappear. You will be able to enjoy eternal life, discovering the mysteries and wonders of this world, even if not with me by your side, then with someone who will worship you until the end of this world. All you have to do is drink some blood and let us take care of you until you learn to control yourself. Is that such a big price to pay for eternal life?" he let me pull away from him a little so I could look into his eyes as he held me tight, desperately trying to convince me to stay alive.

"Who said it would be a happy life? That I'll learn to control myself and not go crazy or become a ripper? That I won't come back covered in the innocent blood of humans every night like you?"

"I must admit I'm a little offended, but I won't blame you for making such vicious accusations against me." he said it in such a tone that I laughed involuntarily, bringing a tender smile to his face. He could always make me laugh, even in the darkest of times. "It's the blood of Mikael and his minions; they definitely weren't innocent, love. Besides, I know you. You will not attack an ordinary man for your own pleasure. And even if you want to, I'll make sure you don't do anything stupid."

I got out of his grip, walking away from him to a safe distance. I might have been in transition, but of the two of us, the man was still the more impetuous. His reaction to my final decision may vary, and I prefer not to risk an untimely death by suffocation.

Besides, Klaus would never forgive himself for that.

"I can't, Nik. I won't feed." his calm facade dropped, and the desperation in his eyes and fear became more evident.

"Y/N just listen to me..."

"It seems like the only fair way out, you know? I helped you plan that stupid wedding; now, at least, you can return the favor by giving me a big, epic funeral."

"Don't even joke like that."

"You know, when Bonnie became sort of an anchor for dead supernaturals to find their way to peace or whatever it is, I couldn't believe at first that the dead actually went somewhere. It seems logical that after you've lived so many years with all these super powers, you just… die. No special effects, no second life, or another reality where there are other dead people. Now, I wish I believed in an afterlife, but I just don't buy this peace story."

"Vampirism is by definition an afterlife."

"I'd rather go into the unknown than live in pain." as if on cue, a sudden, painful spasm seized the left half of my body, causing me to double up... I thought I was beginning to decay from the inside out.

Klaus was near me in no time, holding me up. Fear and despair were painted on his face so clearly that I had to look away from him to chase away the remorse.

"The longer you wait, the more you'll suffer."

"Yeah. I think it's better this way. I mean, look at me. I'm gonna make a super-hot corpse. Perfect for an open casket..."

"Y/N."

"I want a huge party. Everyone has to drink themselves into oblivion and reminisce about all the happy times, funny jokes, or God knows what else. And don't let Kol officiate my funeral, because he'll definitely bring up that stupid story about drunk me flirting with you in a wedding dress or that you were my last fu..."

"STOP IT!" he shouted, interrupting me."I'll not entertain this kind of talk any longer. You must feed. I need you." he growled, glaring at me madly as if that had ever impressed me or worked on me.

He wanted a furious lovers quarrel? Here we go, I'll give him a fucking, last argument.

"This is not about you, this is about me! I liked who I was! I've spent my entire life being that exact version of myself! Years of hard practice and experimentation with my magic went for nothing. I'm nothing! I will never be who I used to be. It is better if I die as someone I'm proud of than live as someone I despise!"

"NO! It is better to live a flawed life than to waste it rotting in clay!"

"But that's not your decision to make." I whispered with tears in my eyes.

He thought I wanted to die? Leaving the love of my life when our story was just beginning? That I didn't want that fucking fairytale ending where the princess got her prince charming?

But I was never a Cinderella, and Klaus was no cut-off to be a prince on a white horse. And we had to accept this.

"Y/N..."

"I HAVE NOTHING, KLAUS! Without my magic, I am a meaningless shell of my former self. I will always be just a shadow of the person I used to be, unable to cast even the simplest spell or feel the fucking energy of plants! My immortal life will be one big void that nothing can fill!" I walked over to him, taking his hands. I didn't want him to leave. Since I was about to die, I didn't want to do it alone. But I knew full well that he wouldn't stay with me to watch me die, because if I were in his place, I wouldn't be able to watch him go away forever either. "I don't want to live like this, Nik. I can't stand such a pain, and certainly nothing is worth it."

"If you want to go back to the arms of death so badly, I won't stop you. I only hope the bugs will eat your rotten body soon, love." he growled, pulling his hand out of my grip, and he stormed out of the room.

"Klaus! Wait!" I shouted after him, trying to take a step towards the door, but I was too weak to move. I slumped to the ground, letting all my heightened emotions come to light and burst into tears as I listened as the hybrid left the house, slamming the door angrily.

This wasn't how it was all supposed to be.

Everything was meant to fall into place after the wedding, but my life was coming to an inexorable end, and my epic true love left me alone and ran away, hurt by my refusal to accept eternal life by his side.

Suddenly, I felt arms pull me into a comforting, firm embrace as someone began to stroke my hair reassuringly. I looked up. It was Klaus' father.

Klaus told me about it several times and even showed me one of the most traumatic memories for him—finding his biological father, pierced through and through by Mikael's sword. I spent half the night with him then, trying to distract his mind from his memories about his true origin.

Apparently, Ansel must have returned with the parents of the originals. He must have trusted him to let him into his mansion.

"All right. He will calm down a bit and come back to you, darling. He will not waste the last hours with his beloved on pointless wandering in anger around the city."

"I... don't want to hurt him. I just can't... I... was never supposed to become... It's all so fucked up." I sobbed, letting Ansel move me to Klaus' bed, so we were sitting next to each other.

"Try to understand him. The love of his life is dying, and while he could shove blood down your throat and save you, he can't do anything without your permission. He's powerless, and that's one of the few feelings my son doesn't take well."

"I don't think I can do it, Ansel. I don't want to be a vampire, but… I want him to be okay. He finally has some happiness and peace in his life, and I'm taking that away from him, making him unhappy again. If only I could turn back time and…"

"And do what? Never met him?"

"That would be best for him and his family."

"I think my son knows what's best for him. And I think..." he got out of bed, rolled up the carpet to get to the floorboards, and pulled out one board. He put his hand into the hole and pulled out a huge bundle of papers. He put everything back in its place and came over to me, handing me the package. "He discovered it himself a long time ago."

"What is it?" I asked, wiping tears from my cheeks, and (after wiping my hands on my dress) I took it from him.

"Something for you. Ah, these postmen! They always lose something or don't deliver it on time, don't they? I'll leave you with that for a while. I'll make sure you have some privacy." Klaus' father went out of the room, closing a door behind him.

A werewolf left me with the strange envelopes alone.

I looked at them distrustfully, not certain if I really wanted to open them. But my innate curiosity made me ask myself one important question all the time.

What was in them?

With trembling hands, I opened the first sealed envelope.

I'd recognize Klaus' practiced, beautiful handwriting anywhere. It's been haunting me since he sent me an invitation to Mikaelson's ball. After every little note he gave me, I could tell I was an expert at his refined handwriting. Thanks to this little obsession, after the first glance at the letter, I knew it was written by him.

Y/N, I have to admit, I'm a little offended that you're not answering my calls. Are you so busy with Mystic Falls stuff that you don't have time for old friends? It'd be nice to know you're alive, Klaus

My malicious witch, my nuisance, It's really awful of you to torment my poor soul. What have I done to deserve such a cold shoulder? Have your little friends turned you against me? If Rebekah and Katherine deserve weekly video calls, what do I have to do to have the honor of hearing your irritating voice? Stop with that attitude, or I'll show up in this musty hole myself, Klaus

A thorn in my side, a waking nightmare, I see you're ignoring me on purpose. I have to admit, I didn't expect such a game from you, but here you go. Want to play games? Expect me to be a willing participant. Let the best win, Klaus

My stupid little witch, Heretics will no longer bother you. Do not thank me. Put your life in danger for these morons one more time, and you will know my wrath, Klaus

My little tormentor, Have you cast a spell on me to think about you every night? Does this possession make me see you everywhere I go, only to be disappointed when I reach a person who is not you? Is this another one of your new tricks? Making me miss you awake and asleep? I swear I'll draw you into your own trap, Klaus

My lovely witch and the sweet bane of my existence, You win. I love you. Truly, madly, deeply. I dare you to come to me and get your price. Yours, Klaus

If it was possible, I cried more than before. Why now? Why didn't I find all these letters sooner? If only I had known about the letters sooner, now at least I would have had something to remember on the other side.

But the most important question was, did I really want to go to the other side, now?

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟

147 my god!!!!! This is over 1000 words

---

It feels as close to the experience of a hospital waiting room as probably exists anymore. 

Bobby nods. “It’s resolved. Not to worry.”

“The radio?” Athena asks.

“No longer transmitting. We don’t need anyone else finding this place,” Bobby explains. “I’m just glad it was you and not someone we don’t know.”

Athena nods. “The end of the world brings out the worst in people.”

“Enables the worst in them, certainly,” Bobby agrees. 

“Though I suppose not everyone,” Athena adds. “Look at what you’ve done here.”

Bobby smiles, gesture feeling slightly forced. “Thank you. We’re getting by.”

“Looks more like thriving, compared to some of what I’ve seen.”

Well, that’s fair. Bobby hasn’t seen as much. He’s happy not to know. Happy not to be part of a larger, more dangerous world. He can’t risk losing another family. 

Before Bobby can reply, Hen and Chim walk out of the utility closet where they’ve been treating May. 

“How is she?” Athena asks, rising to her feet. 

“She has an infection,” Hen says. “But not the infection. Likely, something got in the wound. Or, the zombie that scratched her had something gross on its hands.”

“We’re doing what we can,” Chim says. “If it gets worse, we’d have to take the leg.”

Athena gasps. 

“We’re not there yet, Athena,” Hen assures her. 

Athena takes a deep breath. 

“I trust you, Hen. Do what you have to do to save my baby. She’s more than a leg.”

Bobby swallows. His mind can’t help drifting to his own kids. He feels a desperate, nagging need to prevent her from experiencing his agony. He doesn’t know her kids at all, but he wouldn’t wish that loss on anyone. It’s completely unnatural. Completely soul-changing. So very hard to survive. 

“It’s a waiting game for now,” Chim tells her. “You and your son should rest. We’ll keep you updated, and you can see her.”

Athena sighs. “I can’t rest now. I have to go check the old house. See what I can crab. See if there are any signs of Michael.”

“Town’s not so bad for zombies anymore,” Chim tells her. “They’re mostly all dead.”

Bobby still feels a pang of anxiety at the thought of her going out into it alone, anyway. 

“You want backup?” He offers. 

Athena smiles a little ruefully. “I never did work with a partner, captain.”

“We’ve got an electric vehicle,” he shrugs. “Don’t waste your gas.”

Pragmatism often wins out over ego, he finds. Or just a desire to be alone. 

She nods. “Well, alright then. Thank you.”

▪️▪️▪️

Before the outbreak, Bobby had been a truck guy. Maybe that was just familiarity with the battalion trucks at work, maybe it was a lifetime of driving on snowier, rougher roads. The immediate halt of gasoline production changed that, of course. Hard to appreciate a gas guzzler when each refill is a chore. Siphoning is one thing. Locating gas to be siphoned? Another. 

Luckily for them, the community center already had one of the town’s only public EV charging stations. And a few of the more affluent residents, all of whom died fairly quickly, left behind their expensive cars. It was Karen who proposed they take as many as they could. She could work with their computer systems, and the rest of them were handy with vehicles on account of the job. So now Bobby finds himself driving a Tesla, covered in looted bumper stickers from the dollar store that Denny has artfully arranged. There’s a number of absurd slogans. I love my Bichon Frise. My kid is an honor roll student. Who rescued who? Coexist. Go green - go vegan. Athena reads them all as she climbs in the car. 

“We’re more pescatarian at this point,” Bobby says when he catches her eyeing the last one. “Buck catches a lot of fish.”

“You don’t strike me as a bumper sticker guy,” Athena smirks, climbing in the passenger seat and buckling up. 

He appreciates someone who uses their seat belt even post-apocalypse. It had been an argument with Buck until Chim made him watch a DVD copy of Zombieland. Not as funny of a film when it’s your reality. 

“That’s all Denny,” Bobby replies, chuckling. “We had to draw the line at someone’s NRA sticker.”

Athena laughs. “I’m guessing he didn’t understand?”

“No. We took the guy’s guns, left his agenda.” 

“Fair enough,” she chuckles.

“Where am I headed?” Bobby asks.

“Montalvo Drive,” Athena says. 

Fancy neighborhood. Damn. Not something she’d afford on a police salary. 

“You got it.”

A quiet falls over the car as Bobby drives. He knows very little about what happened between Athena Grant and her husband, Michael. A man Bobby has never met.  Hen knows. Karen knows. But they’ve never said. There wasn’t a reason to, after the outbreak. And before, it was a private matter. One day, they were called to an motorist accident, a different sergeant was at the scene who Bobby didn’t recognize, and Hen quietly told Bobby and Chim that Athena had taken the kids and gone to her parents. He found he missed seeing her at calls, as strange as that is to say. She has an energy about her, maybe. 

“What did your husband do?” Bobby asks finally, after five minutes, when they pull onto the street. 

“Architect,” Athena explains. 

Well that accounts for that. 

“He was - is, I don’t know - good at it, too.” Athena continues. “Successful.”

He’d have to be, to buy the home she ends up directing him to. Ocean view. Two stories. Big gates and a pool. Athena probably didn’t have to work at all. Let alone a dangerous, demanding job. Which just goes to say, she’s the kind of person that needs to. He understands that. 

Bobby parks outside the gate. He grabs the shotgun he brought with them as Athena checks the gate codelock. You never can be too sure. 

“The batteries in these things are supposed to last years,” Athena mutters as she punches in the code. 

The gate clicks open. 

“We can leave the security company a testimonial,” Bobby tells her. 

“Customer reviews are everything,” Athena agrees flatly. 

They slip through the creaking gate. It doesn’t have the power to automatically open. From there, it’s a short walk up to the front door of the home. The walkway is that flat, river stone look. It must once have been polished and beautiful. Now, it’s growing through with weeds and a little dusty. Athena sighs when she looks at it. 

[presleyhearted]

Hello!! Oh my goodness you follow me!! It feels amazing that people who write fanfictions follow me and you seem so lovely!!

I just have to ask if I could have the honor of being your first requester of a fiction to go on your materialist?

If so, then I was just thinking of someone fluffy, what if the reader has like really bad flight anxiety and is all nervous to get on the plane when they have to leave (70's Elvis please!) and so she pretends that she left something in the car confusing Elvis so he waits for her so they can walk up the stairs together and just talks to some of the fans. Eventually when she realizes he doesn't catch onto her hint she just get's up and walks up the plane with a fake smile. Eventually they sit in the back of Elvis's plane (Can be the Lisa Marie depending if this is set accurately.) and then all of a sudden the nerves hit when she's sitting down. Elvis is talking to some of the guys and stuff and doesn't notice your worried (I have a really bad habit of picking at my fingers when I'm nervous. So maybe reader does too?) and then when he realizes she's shaking her foot he asks if she's ok, and she tries to lie but he knows her too well. Anyway fluff/comfort please?

I know this is long and you don't have to but it would be greatly appreciated!!

Thankyou!!💗💗💗💗

Breathe in, Breathe through, Breathe out.

Pairing: 70s!e x reader

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, fear of flying.

Word count: 1743 words

A/N: Well hello @elvispresleywife ! Thank you for trusting me with your request, although I am still new. I hope this lives up to your expectations! 💋

@literally-just-elvis-fics

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The car stops, a differ from your racing heartbeat. You feel your throat become dry, as your mind frantically screams at you to turn the direction, to not be here right now, to just not be. You knew what you were getting into before beginning this relationship, of course you knew. Your life and Elvis’ life couldn’t be more different. But out of all the factors that contrasted to your life, the one thing you could not fully grasp is how Elvis is constantly flying from state to state. 

Not because it sounded exhausting and busy, but the concept of flying itself. The sheer thought of stepping foot on a plane, being essentially stuck there in your seat for who knows how many hours, and then the movement of the plane landing. The very thought of it all made dread stem in your chest. 

You had flight anxiety. 

Elvis has done this routine hundreds of times, and this is the first time since being with him that you agreed to come with him to his next concert. You’ve only known each other for a few weeks, and really, you would make an ample amount of excuses not to go with him out of state. But soon enough, you felt guilty for lying to him and so when on a telephone call with him - you finally agreed. You did notice the faster thump of your chest after you agreed. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell Elvis that you have terrible flight anxiety. You didn’t want to worry him, as you know he already has a lot on his plate. You also see yourself as a fairly confident person, and you don't want people to judge you for this glimpse into something that you see as vulnerable. After all, it wasn’t only Elvis and you that will be on the plane. He is constantly surrounded by his entourage, the Memphis Mafia. And sometimes some of his backup singers, the Sweet Inspirations. You feel like if you show even a glimmer of vulnerability, there will be judging eyes. 

Elvis’ tug on your hand snaps you out of your thoughts, “Ready, honey?” He asks, an easy smile on his lips and tinted sunglasses covering his eyes. 

You almost say no. Almost let go of his hand and ran. But that is unfair to him, you know that. You don’t want to be the reason the smile of his disappears. 

So, instead, you nod and attempt to smile. 

The door is opened and you both step out. The wind hits your face, it’s greeting not helping with the nervous feeling at the pit of your stomach. A large crowd of people, his fans, were all excitedly chattering and streaming at the sight of their idol. You don’t blame them, but the sound and the noise from the plane elevate the fear within you. The web of fear grows larger as each second passes. 

 You need to do something. You need to do it now. 

You lean forward to whisper into Elvis’ ear, “Babe, I uh. . . I think I left my lipstick in the car. I’ll be back, okay?” You lie, hoping that he does not notice the subtle tremble in your voice. 

He raises an eyebrow confused before slowly nodding.

You hope that he got the hint. The hint that you may need to step back and sit this one out. You walk back to the parked car and explain to the driver that you forgot something, which you didn’t. He simply nods and unlocks the car for you. 

Your legs get the best of you and you practically collapse into the car, hurriedly shutting the door behind you. You can almost hear your head pounding at an insane speed, matching the beat against your chest. You attempt to breathe normally, but fail. The windows are tinted in this car, so no one can see you, definitely not looking for lipstick. 

You wait a while. Hoping that Elvis got the hint and will soon join you. You didn’t want him to stop everything and stop the entire plan. But more so for him to open the car door, see the state that you are in, and for him to be okay that you won’t be joining him. 

But it doesn’t happen. You peer at the window again, and see that he is halfway through the flight of stairs attached to the plane. He is happily chatting with fans, but you can feel that his eyes are darting towards the car - waiting for you. 

So, instead, you sigh. You leave the car and thank the driver. You then soon catch up with him, going beside him up the stairs. Your legs are trembling, and you feel yourself bite on your bottom lip - as if you forced a fake smile. A smile that signified anything but the anxiety that coursed through your body. Elvis was quick to wrap his hand around your waist, waving a goodbye to the fans before settling into the plane. 

You don’t know what’s worse - a private jet or a normal commercial plane. Both, you suppose. You guess that it’s good that Elvis has his own private plane, it makes things easier for him and his privacy. But now that you, yourself is observing the interior of it all - you feel your breath pause. The plane was remarkable in having essentially anything and everything that you could possibly have on a private, luxury plane. But it also emphasises just how much smaller it is. 

A small, tiny metal tube that you will be stuck in for the next however many hours. You both make your way to the very back seat, Elvis sitting next to you. Everyone is offered refreshments, and Elvis is engaged in conversation with Charlie and Red about a topic that you are unsure about. You don’t even know, their words are all inaudible to you and the laughter adds to the dreaded feeling. 

The reality of it all hits you as you are sitting down. Of course you immediately buckle your seatbelt, but you curse yourself mentally for taking the window seat. You were too in your thoughts to not notice that’s where you sat down. A direct, clear view of when the plane takes off and lands. You quickly pull the curtain over it. 

You try to look straight ahead, try to distract yourself. But you fail. You nervously pick at your fingers, a bad habit of yours whenever you are anxious. The trembling of your legs moves to your feet, the way that your foot is shaking. This time, Elvis surely notices it. He stops his conversation with Charlie and Red, “Let’s talk later.” He tells them, in which they both walk away and sit in their seats further to the front. 

He turns to you and he just knows that something isn’t right. 

“What’s wrong, darlin?” He asks, voice full of concern. 

You look at him and attempt to keep up your fake smile, “Nothing. I’m fine.” 

He doesn’t believe you. Of course he doesn’t. He knows you too well.

Elvis shakes his head, “I know you too well, Y/N. That foot of yours and your fingers, you're shaking like a leaf.” He points. 

“It’s stupid.” You say. 

“I don’t think so. Tell me, please.”

His gaze sees right through you and you know that there is no use in lying now. So you tell him about your terrible flight anxiety, and once you start spewing out all the words everything begins to click in his mind. All those times that you’ve made an excuse on how you wouldn’t be able to join him on the plane. On how you told him you forgot something from the car. It finally made sense, and he felt like mentally kicking himself for not figuring it out sooner. For not realising it all sooner. 

But he can’t reverse the past, all he can do is focus on you now. He wraps his hand around yours tightly, trying to ease the nervous energy. The stewardess announces to everyone that they should fasten their seatbelts and take off in five minutes. This only heightens your anxiety. Elvis places his other hand on your thigh, squeezing it in reassurance. 

Once you feel the plane begin to rumble into take off little by little, you feel tears prick your eyes. 

“Hey, I’m here, baby. I’m here.” He says softly. His fingertips under your chin, turning you to face him. 

The plane is now fully in the air, and you feel the beat of your heart relax the slightest bit. But not quite. 

“How are you doing?” Elvis asks, finding your silence uncertain. 

“I-. . . E what if it crashes? We are s-so high up.” You mutter, struggling to form a sentence. 

He shakes his head, “That ain’t gonna happen, y/n. Trust me. “ He says, but can tell that you are still not convinced. 

You find yourself leaning into his neck as you mumble, “I don’t want them to see me like this.” You glance at everyone else, who are not paying attention to the both of you at all, but your anxiety is getting the best of you. 

You think Elvis doesn’t hear you, but he certainly does. He abruptly stands up, pulling you up along with him. His arm wrapped around your waist as he tells everyone, “Y/N and I will be resting. Don’t disturb us.” He says briefly, and they nod. Some of the guys wink at Elvis, thinking that the opposite will be happening between you. 

You both walk over to the very back of the plane, and he settles you into the bed. The sheets are warm and inviting. You are both sitting down facing each other. 

“Breathe with me, okay?” He says, hands soothingly running up and down both of your arms. 

You nod. 

“Breathe in, breathe through, breathe out.” He instructs. 

You follow, despite the stinging pain of anxiety in your chest. You do this for a while, for the next few minutes, and eventually it calms down the racing heart beat against your chest. Your head is no longer pounding, and you can finally gain sense of eveything. 

Elvis sees your eyes grow heavy, you both are now lying down beside each other as you face each other. But his arm is gripping tightly around your waist. 

“Thank you. . . “ You say after a while, your voice is steady now. 

Elvis’ eyes are soft as he looks at you, “Of course.”

You feel your fingers tracing his jaw, and his face and Elvis finds himself closing his eyes at your touch. You lean forward and grant a kiss on his lips, “I love you, E.” 

Before he could even respond to your words, all the nervous energy from earlier catches up to you and pulls you in a quick slumber. Despite this, with your eyes closed, Elvis leans forward and plants a kiss on your forehead, cheek, and then lips. 

“I love you too, y/n.” 

And this time, your heart speeds up but with a reason your mind welcomes openly.

[pumpkinsy0]

Buck x Tim headconnons

I feel like they would be a good duo

Buck can fight, but he's just retired to fight. Just tends the Bar he owes

They will both beat peoples asses, if they fight together

Tim makes fun of Buck for being old, but Buck doesn't get mad he lets it slide

If its Buck's b-day, Tim will steal him little gifts (Buck gets mad at Tim for stealing but is thankful for the gift)

If its Tim's b-day, Buck will let him have free beer (only on his birthday)

Tim dares Buck to fight him, but still losses to Buck anyways 😂

When Tim is having a bad day, he will go to Buck's bar and spend there all day till he's drunk (maybe will often tell Buck about his bad day, and Buck will try his best to comfort him) I thought that will be cute♥😭

Since Buck has a dog (I feel like it should be a girl and her name should be pig) But Buck's dog loves Tim and Tim loves her back, he loves playing with her and she loves playing with him

One time Buck was laughing at Tim, because he was getting attacked by Pig while playfighting, and she accidentally bit Tim so hard he ended up having a scar on his neck (ofc Buck took Pig off Tim, but Tim was hurt so badly he couldn't talk right for a few week😭)

Tim wasn't mad at Pig, but was mad at Buck for laughing at him💀 (its fine if u don't like the whole idea)

When Tim's car isn't working and he need to go some places, he would steal Buck's car and Buck finds out, gets really pissed at him for stealing his car

Speaking of Buck's car, Tim like riding with Buck when he's running errands (Tim's passenger princess😭 Buck is forces to buy him stuff) 💀

Sorry for writing so much. And sorry if you don't like some stuff I put down. But I would love to see what you come up with. (I love your headconnons there so awesome! I wanna know what you put for THESE TWO. And its them being friends not lovers I swear😭)

This is the same person that asked for the "Buck Merrill headconnons" just letting you know. :D And you know that Buck is my favorite character. :D I also loved what you wrote for him, and thanks for taking your time writing about him. Now I wanna know for this one. :D

OOoOo i actually dont see many ppl talk about buck n tim so id b happy to talk about it!!!

perhaps buck will b my third fav caribbean man of the outsiders one day

•i see them as business partners and friends!!! not exactly THEE closest of friends, but friends nonetheless!!!

•so like,,,both of em r black,,,,both got 4c hair,,,perhaps they share tips n tricks on how to maintain their hait🗽🗽

•i can totally see buck w cornrows, tim probably did it for him as a “thanks for letting me hide out here while the cops searched for me and patching me up”

•tim can braid hair thanks to practice on angela and curlys hair btw i feel like i should announce that

•tim absolutely does make fun of buck for being old even though it’s literally by a few years buck is so sick of it, ESPECIALLY when tims drunk, ur so real for this hc anon

•for tims bday he definitely abuses his free beer privileges n takes some home, if he can get it for free and not have to pay later he’s DEFINITELY gonna b on that

•buck doesnt rlly fight anymore but he for sure isnt rusty, hes the bartender AND the bouncer let that b known☝🏽☝🏽

•buck MIGHT join in on a rumble if tim RLLY needed the backup but thats a huge might

•AT FIRST pig was fucking terrified of tim, like she would run away from tim, but tim gave her some food ONCE and now she loves em

•sometimes when buck and tim get together for business reasons tims just petting pig cause fluffy dog goes brrrrr

•inspired by my dog but sometimes pig just takes tims hand and literally forces the guy wherever and tim wants to hate it but pig is a cutie so he lets it slide<33

•LIKE I SAID caribbean men, buck prolly taught tim some trinidadian creole english while tim taught buck some haitian creole #culturalkingswowiezowie

•if tims having a bad day or is just bored and doesnt rlly wanna go home he just goes to bucks bar to pick someone up or drink a bit hes not a busy man EVERY day surprisingly

•rlly when it comes to buck, if darry cant rlly relate to him he knows that buck will to some degree!!!

•ALSO ALSO hc that when tims locked up or gets arrested, he calls for buck to watch over angela and curly, cant have them without a guardian now

BUT YEA THIS IS WHAT I COULD COME UP W ON THE WHIM hope u liked it anon🫶🏽🫶🏽

and thx for liking the hcs :D!!

[pbandjesse]

It is confusing my body that I have work tomorrow. Having Monday's off has been such a thing that it feels weird that I'm going to camp tomorrow. But even more it feels weird that other people will be there! Because camp is starting!

I have tried very hard to enjoy my day off. Me and James stayed up late talking and laughing and hanging out. It was a really nice evening and I would sleep really well. And I got to sleep in.

I woke up at 9 and I could have kept sleeping but I wanted to get up. I would go get washed and dressed. I felt pretty. It was going to be pretty sunny and warm but I had much to do!

I would feel a little dazed today. I don't know why. I feel very introspective and quiet. It's interesting for sure.

I would go downstairs and had a little breakfast. I had a toasted cinnamon raisin English muffin with butter. And gathered myself to go out.

My whole plan today was to get the supplies to build Crabcake's outdoor enclosure. I had a few ideas but I'm very happy with my final decision.

But I was getting frustrated. I would start my day out by going to five below to look for bar soap for camp. I have one but I wanted a backup. No luck though?? No soaps at all at that location.

I would get a blind bags and a snack. But then I was off. I walked across the parking lot to target. I would try our soda stream liquid there. And looked around at the clothes but I didn't want or need anything. I paid and went to my next stop.

Over to the Petco. I wanted to get a better hearing bulb. Which was a little confusing but I think I got a good one. Ceramic heating bulb. I would also get a hide and some extra food pellets and dried flowers for snacking. I had a nice conversation with the cashier. On my account Crabcake's name is Frank. But in talking to her it has been decided that his name is Crabcake Franklin Lentzwiler the first.

I would try to go to ace hardware next. But I kept having to drive in circles because of all the one way streets. I was struggling. I did finally make it inside but they didn't have anything I needed for my idea. So I felt dumb for all the driving in circles.

I would go to Aldi next. This Aldi did not have as many things as the Lidil did the other day. Disappointing but not surprising. It's funny how nice some of the Aldi and lidils are while other are so bare bones and you literally never know what you're going to get.

So I went to my final stop. I drove to Home Depot. And it wasn't perfect but it would work out in the end.

I was very frustrated when I could not find a staff member to help me. I found the tub I wanted but I couldn't safely pick it up off the pile without knocking everything over. But I circled the garden center 3 times before I gave up and went inside the main store and I found someone. And was like hey I know that it isn't your section but can you help me get something and he was surprised no one was available in the garden section but he was really kind and came and helped.

I would get two bags of peat moss topsoil, which is what was recommended online for tortoises. And then I chose a yellow flower plant and an egg plant plant a low dish and a terracotta pot. I was pretty happy with my choices.

The line took a long time. I chatted with the girl in front of me. She was super excited about my plan to make an enclosure garden for a tortoise. I was also very excited.

I paid and they offered to load the car for me but I decided that since I needed to get it all out of the car I should put it in myself. The guy thought that was funny.

I'm glad I did that though. Nothing was actually heavy it would just be a lot of thinking and moving things around.

I went home and got a parking space right in front of our door. Excellent. I came inside and put Sweetp in the basement. And brought everything inside.

I let Sweetp be free while I was working on setting up the tub. I had decided to get the tub without a bottom and so I would put a tarp down first. I used the two bags of top soil to cover that and then the two blocks of coconut fiber. I soaked everything and got it all mixed and set up and was pretty happy.

Both plants were pretty badly root bound. I had to chop some off of the flowers just to get it to break apart a bit. Pretty annoying. I really hope they don't die.

I got them planted and put in the other things I got. I filled the soaking tray. I half buried the pot as a hide. And I placed the log I got. It was time to introduce the boy.

Crabcake had been out when I left earlier. And he was still hanging out when I went to get him.

He is so stinking cute. I think this may have been the first time he was really outside. Born in captivity and such. So he seemed a little nervous when I put him in the tub but he has been exploring and hiding in the flowers and I am really excited that he seems happy in there. I want to grow chia for him to eat in there. I still need to figure out predator protection but for now, as a supervised activity I think it is all good.

Once I was done setting up and I had wash all the dirt off of my hands I would set up our camp chair out there and put the umbrella over it. I made nachos and set myself up to watch TikToks and eat my little lunch.

James asked me to water the plants so I did that. And sat down to eat. I opened my blind bags. Got a small dog dressed like a sorcerer named Justin. It was a good day.

I eventually got a little to hot and would move inside. I would go outside to check on Crabcake and Sweetp often. But I would also just hang out and eat snacks. It was honestly lovely. Though I got very sleepy.

James would come home at 5. And I would show them my hard work. I had asked them earlier in the day if we could go out to buy a porch swing this evening. And so after they changed their shirt and we brought all our animals inside, we would go out into the world.

We did not have luck at the first store. Disappointing. We still got a few small things. Pastries. We had to go to the Lidil I went to the other day. And they would have it! Amazing! James was very strong and carried it to the car. I was very happy.

But very quickly I fell apart. Callie let me know that some boys are trying to get the block house we want. Which upset me. And then we got to Mathews for dinner but they were out of pizzas??? I was so disappointed.

James pivoted and is still trying to cheer me up. We went to get pizza somewhere else but then their soda was flat and my stomach hurt so much and I was so upset. And it was worse that I knew I was being irrational. But I just feel all out of sorts.

I'm hoping eating helps. We are almost home. Where I will eat and try to be normal again. I was having a really good day and I would like to continue that.

Especially because I am very excited for camp tomorrow. I hope it's a really good day and I get a lot done.

I hope you all have a great night tonight. Take care of eachother. And be safe. I love you all. Goodnight!!

[landofzero-archive]

Absolute - To Abhor the Impure World 11

(Location: Michigan Townscape)

Jun: Haaah~…… The world is way too confusing.

NEGI: “It’s relatively common in this country. Absolute is the flashier one, but there are others where people hit each other with cars, and I heard that there are a lot of abandoned cars once the competition’s over.”

Hiyori: What would possess people to do that?

NEGI: “It’s insane. But that’s what makes it so interesting, you see.

Art can only be born from madness, I guess.”

Hiyori: Madness, huuh. We don’t have enough of that, do we?

Jun: It’s true that we always perform perfectly according to Ibara’s carefully thought out plans.

And that’s why unexpected things rarely happen.

But with Ibara, I’d like to see him break out of his shell and spread his wings, rather than staying stuck in his own expectations.

Hiyori: Ibara, even though he gets angry when we act unexpectedly and selfishly.

Jun: Ahaha. If he found out we’re walking around outside like this, he’d probably get angry.

Hiyori: Probably. I hate Ibara’s lectures since he just drones on and on and on, so let’s get this all settled before he finds out.

NEGI-chan. You said there might be clues at this Absolute venue—

NEGI: “I don’t have any proof though. The performers in Absolute essentially work individually, unlike ES with its unit system.”

Hiyori: The super idols that have already become obsolete in Japan are still mainstream, huh.

NEGI: “Yes. The same goes for Shaka, who, officially, is working as an individual.

But in reality, many staff members work together to create the stage— including a large number of backup dancers and a special effects team.”

Hiyori: It’s the same way in Japan. Behind the sparkling, shining sun, there’s a large number of staff supporting us.

NEGI: “Yes. And talented people are in high demand everywhere, and some of them work with Shaka while also helping other performers.

But then, Shaka disappeared. But not all of the people involved with him disappeared with him.

There’s a chance that one of them may know where Shaka is.

It’s a classic trope in mystery novels, it’s not that easy to erase a human being from existence.

There must be an accomplice who is guiding him or acting as a diversion in order to mislead the investigation.”

Hiyori: So the idea is to figure out Shaka-san’s whereabouts from that perspective.

However, since we don’t know who is involved in this incident, it seems like it’s going to be a pain to go around asking questions.

NEGI: “That’s true. But I know quite a bit about Shaka’s friendships, so I have a good idea of who it may be.

From here on out, I’m going to contact each of these people and ask them about it.

It’s straightforward work and disheartening, but I can’t think of anything else I can do right now.”

Jun: The fortress-like place where Shaka-san was being protected is on high alert.

It had an atmosphere that I couldn’t even get close to~. On-site verification isn’t possible, either.

Hiyori: I don’t think we would be able to find any clues even if we inspected the scene, no matter if we were detectives or not.

We just have to try our best and do everything we can.

I don’t really like that kind of uncouth stuff.

It can’t be helped, though. It’s for Nagisa-kun’s sake.

Jun: Well, we still don’t know whether Nagi-senpai has something to do with Shaka-san’s disappearance, y’know~. He could be back at the hotel by now.

He was just taking a morning walk, or something. Like he usually does, in his carefree way.

Hiyori: Yeah. It would’ve been nice if it had been a “we didn’t know that and had just been wandering every which way of our own accord” kind of disappointing punchline.

However, until we reach the truth, we can’t be optimistic.

Jun: Gotcha. At worst, Nagi-senpai’s life is at risk.

NEGI: “I agree. Let’s do our best. And for that reason, I need your cooperation.”

Jun: But we’ve said it a bunch of times already, we’re not detectives or anything, y’know~? Can we even be of any use?

NEGI: “But you guys are performing in Absolute, right? If you didn’t have that position, we wouldn’t be able to enter the staff’s tent village.

See, it would be a problem if fans could come in without permission and come in contact with the performers and staff.

This city is usually unsafe, so these kinds of security measures have been put in place.”

Hiyori: I see. So we’re like key cards necessary to enter areas that are normally off-limits to outsiders.

NEGI: “Something like that. Of course, to you there’s basically only foreigners here, so they don’t understand Japanese—

I’ll be the one to interrogate any shady people.”

Hiyori: I can also speak English to some extent since it’s necessary for socializing.

Jun: …… I don’t think I’ll be too useful in that area, so I’ll keep an eye on our surroundings, okay~?

NEGI: “Alright. Then, just like that—

I’ll get to the dirty work. I can’t stand having the biggest idols in ES do something like that♪”

Previous | Directory | Next

[dozenssporks]

meryl: explain.

vash, a kid under each arm, one on his back, and a baby strapped to his front: how much do you think they’re worth altogether? if I took them to the supermarket do you think I could afford pizza?

meryl: explain.

kid on vash’s back: mom’s got to work so we’re having a sleepover with vash!

kid under vash’s left arm: he owes mom thirty-two dollars so he has to do it for free!

vash: was it really necessary to mention that? makes me sound like a bum.

meryl: you are a bum.

vash: hahaha, bad timing to ask then but . . . you need an um indoor place for a sleepover and I was wondering . . .?

mery: oh no you don’t

vash: we need an address if we want pizza delivered. pleeease?

*all the kids echo him and look up at meryl with big sad eyes. the baby flaps their arms*

meryl, twisting her face as she attempts to resist: I . . . you . . . you--you’d better not damage the room I don’t want to pay the motel extra fees.

*all the kids cheer*

vash: indoor voices please!

kid on his back: we’re still outside! Imma shout all I want!

vash, steps through the door: ha! evil plot foiled, tiny villain! you will be captured and contained for the sake of the galaxy!

kid on his back, pulling on vash’s hair: curse yoouuuu!

*vash drops the two kids he’s holding on the floor and flails around trying to reach the kid on his back*

meryl, shutting the door: do you even have baby stuff?

vash, produces a diaper bag that definitely hadn’t been there before: I am always prepared for all contingencies!

meryl: don’t lie to my face. you wing it so much you might as well be a bird.

*some time later milly returns from running errands and installs herself on the couch with the kids while they watch cartoons and eat pizza*

vash, feeding the baby their bottle: heeeey, meryl, have I mentioned lately that you are a selfless and beautiful human being?

meryl: whatever. I’m going to check the news on my laptop so don’t bug me, okay? Our paper already has people covering the local protest but I want to keep up to date . . . why are you suddenly looking away?

vash, looking sideways at the wall: hahaha! but I’m not?

meryl: you were at the protest, weren’t you?

vash: um.

meryl: and you made the news again, didn’t you?

vash: wow this little guy sure can chow down, huh? I knew his dad so I can tell you this guy is going to be built like a house when he grows up--

meryl: should I be packing the car? why do you have kids with you when you might have to skip town! you’re insane and irresponsible and I cannot believe you’re dragging me into this again!

vash, softly: their mom got arrested at the protest.

meryl: what--!

vash: shhhh! the kids don’t know!

*meryl takes a breath to calm herself and glances at the soft brown faces of the kids watching tv across the room to confirm they hadn’t heard*

meryl: I’m sorry. go on. please.

vash: I knew the kids were with a teenage sitter and since their dad was killed a few months ago the emergency contact is their aunt but something happened and she can’t make it until morning. Child services might’ve taken the kids into custody before then.

meryl: and temporary custody might turn into them taking the kids away permanently, considering the circumstances, right? Yeah, I see.Though if I didn’t know you personally I’d think she was nuts for asking Vash the Stampede to help her out. I’m still on the fence sometimes.

vash, putting the baby on his shoulder and patting their back: haha, I’ve known her awhile. She’s a doctor! If any of the kids want to put bandaids on you please play along they like to pretend to be like mom.

meryl: how many bullets did she have to pull out of you when you first met?

vash: . . . only one . . . *mumbles* and a stab wound . . .

meryl: uh huh

vash, sulky: it wasn’t even my fault. these things just happen to me.

*baby spits up on vash*

vash: like that.

meryl: mmhm. are you sure you’re safe here for tonight?

vash: yup! all good! and if not I’ve got backup! Tada! *holds the baby up in the lion king pose*

meryl: you’re beyond help.

[oldbutnotyetwise]

Noise

      I’ve been thinking about noise a lot lately, it is almost like I am drowning in it.  Moving to the city after living in the country is a big adjustment.  Noise in the city is relentless, it never stops, it may lessen a bit sometimes, but it is always still there. 

     Buying a Condo two blocks away from a Fire Station means you are going to hear a lot of sirens. 

     Let’s start with a short rant here, Car Alarms, I had forgotten about them when I lived in the country but within a day of living in the city I was sure reminded of them.  Can we not as a world population just agree that they don’t work.  They constantly go off for no apparent reason, so much so that people don’t even bother looking to see where the alarm is coming from anymore.  Here’s an idea, lets just stop putting them in vehicles and disconnect the ones already installed, we can all agree that they were a total failure.  Now if we could segue  from car alarms to backup alarms on commercial vehicles.  I agree a good idea, warn someone of a vehicle backing up so they don’t get hit or run over, but can we talk about the volume?  I am two blocks away and twelve floors up and you sound like you are on my balcony.

     The other day I listened to someone nearby using a chainsaw all day as he cut down a tree.  My neighbour in the country used a chainsaw frequently but there he was much farther away and the sound didn’t bounce off of all the buildings.  In the country it was almost a soothing sound, but in the city it was a day long annoyance.

     In the country I rarely used my vehicle horn, and if I did it was just a quick beep to get my neighbour to pull his head out from whatever equipment he was working on so he could return my wave.  In the city the vehicle horn is used very differently, it is a weapon, it is a loud form of swearing at someone, an outlet for the anger of an already frustrated and agitated driver. 

     What about the cars and the motorcycles with their radio blasting out the driver’s musical selections?  I don’t know about you but I hate Rap Music and getting stuck beside someone playing that while stuck at a red light is a form of torture for me.  What, what’s that you say?  Well yeah, okay so maybe I did that in my teen years too but that was different because I was playing Supertramp, The Eagles, Queen, Fleetwood Mac and so on.  I was providing a public service when I was playing that music loud enough for others to hear because that was great music.  Yes, you’re right, I should probably just move on to the next point.

     Let’s talk about loud exhausts, you know the kind.  The I ride a Harley and I want everyone to know it.  “It has a loud exhaust but that is a safety feature so people hear me coming”…..sorry guys no matter how many times you try to sell that line I am not buying it.  The loud exhaust is just something that forces people to look at you and that is something that you seem to need.

     The opposite end of the scale to loud motorcycles is those annoying small cars that the kids are souping up and have that loud whiney exhaust noise that is both loud and annoying.  Yes kid everyone within a five block radius loves to hear the sound of your car as you drive down the road.

     I like almost all dogs, I certainly tend to like dogs more than dog owners,  Living in a city you will have to deal with barking dogs.  There is a small yappy dog that lives across the street from my Condo.  The people let the dog out around six a.m. at which time the dog barks constantly for 20 - 30 minutes, this pattern repeats itself throughout the day and up until around ten p.m.  I am at a loss to understand why someone would think it’s okay to let your dog bark constantly disturbing so many people around you.  I blame the people here, not the dog, I actually feel sorry for this annoying little dog who probably knows no world outside of their house and backyard.  

     How about some classic Noise Pollution?  The leaf blower, yes I admit that they work but damn are they annoying.  I know they aren’t as efficient, but couldn’t we go back to the days of rakes and brooms?

     How about the drunken idiots or couples walking down the street in the early morning hours yelling at each other, waking up all the sleeping people and sharing their well developed knowledge of swear words.  

     They are right up there with the people having a phone conversation using blue tooth, I can’t be the only one who answers the person next to them in a grocery store when they say “Hey, how you doing?”  Of course after you answer they turn and look at you all annoyed before marching off and continuing their conversation with whoever they called on their bluetooth.  Yes, yes, rest assured we all love hearing half a phone conversation of someone as important as you.

     In a big city there is always traffic, three, four, five o’clock in the morning you can still hear it, it never ends.  I wonder when the last time people in the city heard absolute silence, would it be as disconcerting for them as all this city noise is to me.  

     My wife Robin and I took her son Jack out for dinner the other day.  We sat on an outdoor patio and I couldn’t help but notice how comfortable Jack was.  I on the other hand was sitting there a bit overwhelmed by the traffic noise from the busy street during rush hour, racing engines, car horns, add to the all the regular city noise, patio music being played too loud and the loud voices from fellow diners.  Jack didn’t seem to take any notice of all the noise, he seemed comfortable, almost at peace.  I wondered if living in the city he had built up an immunity to it all.  I on the other hand was in a bit of an auditory overload.

     My sister-in-law who lives in Toronto stayed with us when we lived up north and the first morning she complained about all the noise the birds made in the early morning hours, they had woken her.  Yet I bet she would have just slept through all the city noise because that is what she is used to.

     One type of city noise that I hear, and I like to hear is the sound of a distant train whistle in the early morning hours.  There is a comfort to me in hearing a train whistle as it goes through a crossing, a train going somewhere, passenger train or freight train I don’t know.  The sound of a train in many ways is the sound of the past, a simpler quieter time, or maybe I’m just romanticizing it a bit.  

     Another sound I like in the city is the sound of church bells ringing, for some reason the sound of church bells always make me pause and listen to them.  Each time the the bell chimes, I pause waiting for the bell to chime again, and when the chiming stops I feel slightly sad for a moment before continuing on with my day.

     Perhaps one person’s noise is another person’s comforting sounds, and vice versa.  Maybe one day I will adjust to all the noises of the city, maybe I won’t notice the cornucopia of city noise that are like fingernails on the chalkboard to me now.  I don’t know if that is something I should look forward to or if it is something I should dread.

     What sounds cause you instant irritation and what sounds bring you comfort, sounds you find soothing or that help you relax? 

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

134 of 2025

Have you ever been to a Chinatown in any of the cities you’ve been to?

Yeah, in Antwerp. They have a Chinatown, and maybe Brussels does, but certainly nowhere else in this country.

How old was the oldest person you’ve dated?

He's gonna be 53 soon. I'm 35.

Do you know anyone who has their own podcast?

Not in person.

Who is the first person under C in your phone’s contacts? How old are they?

Caroline, she's in her 40s.

Have you ever been to couple’s counseling?

Nope, and knowing life, my husband would rather die than go to something like this. He's really stubborn.

How often does your employer ask you to work overtime?

They used to ask me a lot and I never turned it down because a) chill and no bosses around, b) shorter shift and c) paid twice as much. But since I got disabled, I'm legally not allowed to work overtime, especially that I work part time.

What did you have for dinner last night?

No real dinner, I just heated some chicken wings in the microwave.

How many children do you want, and how did you decide on this number?

None, I'm too disabled for this.

Where did your last kiss take place?

Just here on the couch.

Did you often read for fun when you were a kid?

Yes. I always loved books.

^ What were some of your favorite books?

One of them was Pelle Svanslös. Just because I loved cats, it was lovely to read.

When and why did you last feel lonely?

Last Friday at work, the reason was all the shit piling up on me.

Are you more of a visual learner or an auditory learner?

I'm a kinesthetic learner. In order to learn something, I have to try to do it myself.

Do you have any dietary restrictions?

Yes, I can't consume caffeine in any way. No coffee, no Coca Cola, no energy drinks.

Do you prefer Google Maps, Apple Maps, Waze, or something else?

I prefer the navigation we have in the car, I think it's TomTom.

What is your favorite coffee brand?

Douwe Egberts. I'm sad I can't drink anymore.

What is your favorite tea brand?

Lipton, but the only tea I've ever liked was Earl Grey tea, and I can't drink tea either.

Have you ever worn false eyelashes?

Lol no.

How old does someone have to be for you to see them as an adult?

It doesn't depend on age. It depends on personal levels of maturity. You can be mature at 15 and immature at 50.

Do you ever ‘manspread’ when you sit down?

Doesn't every guy do it by any chance?

Which of your good habits has made the biggest positive difference in your life?

Writing and planning in a calendar. It helps me remember everything.

Have you ever dated someone who was very lazy?

Yeah. My first ex didn't want to get any job because "he's an artist". I can't deny, his photography was wonderful. But let's be realistic, it's not that easy to make a name in this industry, so it's better to have some backup, at least until it really happens. He didn't even want to think about it. He didn't want to do anything in the house either.

Have you ever turned down a job offer?

No. I tried anything and everything as seasonal jobs, until I graduated and found the job I do until today.

What was the last medical appointment you scheduled?

Neurologist in December, but it was already last year. I still need to book appointments with other specialists.

What are some of your favorite alcoholic drinks?

Semi-sweet white wine, lambic beer, kriek (the same beer, but made with sour cherries), champagne. That's about it.

Have you ever taught an elderly relative how to use a computer/smartphone?

Yeah, my dad. Now he operates both really well. I've been trying to teach my mum, but sadly she's not the smartest with technology.

Where did you get the shirt you’re wearing?

I'm not wearing any shirt. You heard about hoodies before?

How many people can be seated at your kitchen table?

I don't think any table would even fit in the kitchen like this.

[the-firebird69]

https://images.app.goo.gl/5qEJZBKRo6SCrA9a7

This is the car our son and daughter and their gang their kids help design and yeah it's getting cold out really out here and Florida it's cold he says it too. This car is worth a lot of money if someone made it and sold it as a kit you could probably get if it was assembled and had a warranty and guarantee it has a very nice 12 cylinder Chrysler motor the drivetrain is high performance and of the right metal that's really high strength steel the transmission when you have an automatic it's a racing transmission and it's racing quality the other parts are all high performance and the shell is pretty decent metal it doesn't weigh that light but it's pretty sturdy it's rated for 400 mph now it's rated for about 800 mph. Nobody is making this car at all. It is not being made anywhere on Earth and that is not a problem but it is a nice car and Chrysler dropped it and it would have been there Corvette they're getting smaller and smaller and we don't need that to happen it's an unfortunate thing and it's a sad thing we are going to have to try and decide what to do with it you can't really jump right out and start making a Chrysler. This company is in peril it's almost going to be defunct it's been going out of business for a long time it's been losing market share it's really not a great firm right now. They are closing dealers down all over the world and they don't have on any kind of backup plan and they are in trouble. This guy Trump is a stupid dick he went over and he moved our son's trash can and he meant to and he said I touched it and stuff like that so we're going to publish to expose him.

The company is crashing it's got a third as many shares and it is going down it's not going to have half the value that it has now in a short amount of time it's going down now and it is going to start becoming less and less valuable by the time you sells it he's going to make probably 1/8 of what he could have and he has cut down on production to about a third and we want him out we need him out we are going to try and force him out he doesn't have a right to do it and he's a bum and he was trying to have the trash can fall over such a loser so my son will probably have to put it back cuz he put it on the edge of the gully I'm sick of this piece of s***

We're going to start going after his businesses and we need them all they're fighting very hard and they're neglecting the businesses they're not doing their jobs and they're ignoring orders we need to get in there now

He wants to attract the dick heads and see what they're going to do with the company and we think we know but it's a good idea and he wants to make this car with some changes out of fiberglass with a roll cage and to attract the duplicates they'll come out of the woodwork and we can make it fast we have chances for it it's from another car can even be a kit that's a good idea but he wants to call it a Chrisler and blame himself but cover it up you sort of get that he really hates this guy other people will be willing to do it and we would make it the same style name they just have to change the letter then of course they would have an authentic product it's not true but that's the way it goes we're going to start moving on it now some sick of seeing these idiots

Thor Freya

Olympus

Zues Hera

[wozman23]

2024 Music in Review: My Favorite Songs

Spotify Wrapped is here, but mine is only a small glimpse of what I listen to, and how I listen to it. Sure, as singles release, I do usually turn to Spotify, or YouTube, to listen. But once an album is out, the vast majority of my listening happens via the iPod connect to my car stereo on my 25-60+ minute commutes to and from work (depending on how early I wrap up my day - no pun intended). And on PC I still prefer Winamp. I only tolerate iTunes because having every song I've ever loved, stored locally, on a simple device that interfaces with my car stereo has never been trumped.

So here's a small sampling of what Spotify and iTunes say I listened to most.

Note: at a certain point this year, iTunes scrubbed my complete history of play counts (I bought a new PC and probably loaded a different backup of the files from a different drive, plus iTunes always gives me a fight when synching my modded iPod.) Otherwise, there would still be a lot of plays from Fair to Midland, Lions at the Gate, Fire from the Gods, Voyager, and some of the other early albums from the year or late last year.

First off, as favorites go, it was a sweep this year:

Artist of the Year: Linkin Park

Album of the Year: From Zero

Song of the Year: "Good Things Go" (debatable with many of the other From Zero songs)

"IGYEIH" by Linkin Park:

I talked about "Good Things Go" elsewhere before, as well as iTunes' most played song, "Stained" so here's "IGYEIH." If I have one criticism of it, it is that I wish Colin would have leaned even more into the bass drum with a barrage of sixteenth note kicks as the phrases end ("wishful thinking, drowning, sinking, left with nothing left, I give you everything I have!")

"I Don't Know How We Got Here" by VOLA:

My second favorite song (excluding LP songs) is up for debate. But let's give it to VOLA with "I Don't Know How We Got Here." It's a hauntingly smooth, catchy track with some interesting imagery. And Adam Janzi is one of the smoothest guys behind a drumset, effortlessly working around his kit with perfect precision on a song that somehow both feels somewhat simple yet percussively complex. So here he is playing through the track.

VOLA's full album is another latecomer to 2024 which is why their iTunes play count is still lacking. I loved all the singles, but I'm still forming an opinion on the complete album, and it doesn't get as much love with LP on constant repeat.

"Last dAntz" by Alien Ant Farm:

Alien Ant Farm came back! That wasn't on my bingo card. A lot of people call them a one hit wonder, and really only know them for a cover song. I was a huge fan of their first two albums. "Movies," "Attitude," "Wish," "Summer," "Goodbye," and "1000 Days" are all worthy of your time. Later, "Homage" was a beautiful song honoring music. Their new album is just as eccentric as their older albums, sometimes to its detriment, but one song stands out as possibly their best song ever: "Last dAntz." It reminds me a lot of the heart of "Homage." Dryden's vocals and phrasing are still really cool. And the chorus kills! I really didn't latch on to the album, and I gravitate towards groups with albums that I enjoy from start to finish, but every time I turn on this song, I'm really, really impressed.

"Your Last Breath" by Overhead, The Albatross:

If you'd have asked me last year, "What's your favorite song of all time?" I'd have blurted out "Big River Man by Overhead, The Albatross!" I found them in 2016, deep in my quest to explore post-rock. And I've been hooked ever since. No one composes like them. Describing them as post-rock almost feels silly. They exist on a different plane. They'll make 10 minute songs that never overstay their welcome. They've got the elements of a typical rock band. And some great synths and programming. But they'll also bring in sax players. Choral singers. Do some spoken word stuff. And hell, they'll even bang on the rungs of ladders. Sometimes you'll find a driving motivation in their work, yet other times you'll hypnotically zone out in the atypically metered polyrhythms. You'll find moments of sadness and joy in equal measure. They're a one of one. You simply won't find anything quite like them. They went silent for a while through the pandemic. But thankfully they're back. And they also put out a new album last month. And now when you ask me my favorite song I'm no longer sure. It might still be "Big River Man" but it just might be "Your Last Breath."

Putting them this far down this list feels criminal. And even in typing this, maybe this should even be my Song of the Year. Let's call it my "Indie Song of the Year."

However, I've sang this one's praises before. I've posted this song on two occasions: on it's release as a single, and the day the album came out.

I know they're off the beaten path. And I know some people are offput by a 9:07 song that isn't driven by lyrics. But the fact that this video has been on YouTube for 8 months and has only amassed 3500 views feels like music's biggest travesty.

If there are two things I'm ecstatic about in music this year, it's the return of Linkin Park and Overhead, The Albatross. They're both back in my list of favorite artists.

"Antihero" by We Are The Catalyst:

I've followed We Are The Catalyst since 2014 when I stumbled upon their debut LP. I've praised them many times over the years as well. Now, five LPs deep, after releasing a steady stream of singles, they've compiled them all for Friction. They've long been a Linkin Park-esque stand-in for me. Created by the Swedish sweethearts, Cat and Kenny, they share a lot of similar elements to LP. And they've come a long way from the early days of utilizing programmed drums. Through it all they've held on to Cat's great vocals, Kenny's growls and screams, and a whole lot of synths. But I'm always most impressed with the fact that Kenny produces everything himself, in-house. "Antihero" is easily the standout from Friction, but it's got a lot of good stuff.

"STARCHILD" by COSMODROME:

COSMODROME is actually somewhat similar to We Are The Catalyst, but they were a new discovery for me via Spotify's recommendations. I'm always looking for more band like STARSET, which basically became a favorite after craving more bands like Linkin Park. COSMODROME is basically German STARSET. Much like We Are The Catalyst, you can tell English isn't their primary language. And there's something really interesting about that. These guys only have singles, so I do actually use Spotify to listen to them, which is why the appear in the Top 5 list. They aren't on my iPod yet, but the day they release an album, they will be.

"DEGENERATE" by STARSET:

Speaking of STARSET, they're putting out singles. They've all been great at adding new layers to Dustin's vocals. "TokSik" has a fun message, and an equally as fun rap-ish section. "Brave New World" introduced us to STARSET dropping f-bombs, which I'm still kind of mixed on. But the track I've liked most so far is "DEGENERATE," largely for it's anti-AI messaging, but mainly because its got that new, low, throaty vocal from Dustin (Down, down, down, down, down, It's a race to the bottom.") You'll see Downplay, Dustin's former band, listed as a top artist, because I was listening to them a lot early in the year to familiarize myself with his past work. Prior to my iTunes, reboot, you'd have seen a lot of STARSET too. I can't wait for what's next!

"Animal Soul" by AURORA:

Last year, the music from Alan Wake II consumed me. This year, the song from gaming that did that was AURORA's "Animal Soul" which closed out Senua's Saga: Hellblade II. I really want to find more stuff like this and the haunting Alan Wake electro-pop-ish stuff, but I don't know how to find it or where to look. As far as this song goes, from what I understand this was a song AURORA never really recorded a studio version for. Then Ninja Theory commissioned her to record it for Hellblade. It's simply beautiful. I assume with its almost exactly 3 minute length - that feels as if it ends way too soon - it was perhaps written for Eurovision. I'm so thankful for these two worlds coming together. Otherwise I'd probably never have heard this gem.

Honorable Mentions, many of which I've posted before:

Young Lion - Non-Believer (an old find through Spotify)

Greywind - Here's Your Deathwish (and their entire EP)

Abandon Pools - Amazing Days

"I Don't Need Anyone" and almost the entire Hell Side of Sum 41's last album

And plenty of carry over from last year from bands like Fire From the Gods, Voyager, Lions at the Gate, blink-182, and perennial favorites, Fair to Midland.

[reasoningdaily]

Futurism: Billionaire Drools That "Citizens Will Be on Their Best Behavior" Under Constant AI Surveillance

Here's something worth noting, though: in 2022, Oracle was sued for running a "worldwide surveillance machine" which was facilitated by allegedly collecting billions of people's personal information and pawning it off to third parties.

It settled the case in July, agreeing to pay $115 million. Make of that what you will.

"Citizens will be on their best behavior because we are constantly recording and reporting everything that's going on."

Say Cheese!

If it were up to Larry Ellison, the exorbitantly rich cofounder of software outfit Oracle, all of us will soon be smiling for the camera — constantly. Not for a cheery photograph, but to appease our super-invasive, if not totally omnipresent, algorithmic overseers.

As Business Insider reports, the tech centibillionaire glibly predicts that the wonders of AI will bring about a new paradigm of supercharged surveillance, guaranteeing that the proles — excuse us, "citizens" — all behave and stay in line.

"We're going to have supervision," Ellison said this week at an Oracle financial analysts meeting, per BI. "Every police officer is going to be supervised at all times, and if there's a problem, AI will report that problem and report it to the appropriate person."

"Citizens will be on their best behavior," he added, "because we are constantly recording and reporting everything that's going on."

Cop Out

Of course, many of these surveillance apparatuses — security cameras, bodycams — are already in place. The novel dystopian development would be that AIs would be deployed to monitor these feeds constantly — which already happens to some extent in experimental forms, but not as pervasively as Ellison envisions — so those poor, outnumbered Feds at intelligence agencies everywhere have a little backup.

Hell, it might even give patrol cops a run for their money, according to Ellison. Why have them engage in a risky car chase, for example, when you can get an AI drone to tail a suspect instead?

"You just have a drone follow the car," Ellison said, per BI. "It's very simple in the age of autonomous drones."

Ivory Power

This is all very rich coming from a guy who's, well, very rich. Depending on whose estimate you go by, Ellison's net worth is north of $200 billion, making him the second wealthiest person in the world behind Elon Musk (another tech bigwig who, it's worth mentioning, is currently profiting off government surveillance).

Under Ellison's stewardship, Oracle has been attempting to position itself as another leader in the AI race, and has quickly integrated the tech into its cloud computing services.

It's not a stretch to say that the Austin-based corporation will want to be part of that royal "we" Ellison is so fond of using that will oversee the "citizens." Here's something worth noting, though: in 2022, Oracle was sued for running a "worldwide surveillance machine" which was facilitated by allegedly collecting billions of people's personal information and pawning it off to third parties.

It settled the case in July, agreeing to pay $115 million. Make of that what you will.

[serperioranimations]

BUCKLE UP KIDS, ITS TATER TED TALK TIME

I can definitely be on board with this. I am a disabled artist myself, (neurodivergent/ADHD), and I have a range of characters with physical and mental disabilities, and this also includes Red leader Tord. As well as Tom. And Matt. I’ll put my thoughts and response down below.

I also agree with the scarring points, how in film, evil characters have scars to look more “scary”. There is three examples off the top of my head that literally have the word “scar” in their name. However, I won’t really be discussing that here.

I wouldn’t say MY version of red leader is a bad guy(at least not to Edd, Matt and Tom), he’s moreso just a guy who went about things the wrong way while trying to get his friends recruited. Whole thing. He made up with them eventually. And while he has the ability to come off as intimidating, it’s moreso about the level of power he holds in a room rather than his “scary” appearance.

My portrayals of disability, at least with with red leader tord, mostly focus on the mental effects of his disability. Sure, the physical stress is a lot, but the mental stress of having to worry about your perception and how you are viewed as a disabled person makes a lot of disabilities ten times worse.

He fears that he could get into another accident and lose more of his body and therefore his humanity. Sometimes he has to take his arm off because he hates that he now has to have machinery as his arm. He has nightmares where he’ll be full robot and it freaks him the hell out.

Obviously, there are things that affect him physically too. In the crash, he lost some of his teeth and his cornea had a piece of glass stuck in it and it was damaged. His depth perception is greatly impacted because he’s now blind in his right eye, and he has to wear dentures. He had to change parts of his lifestyle in order to keep them in tact, such as quitting smoking. He also quit because he was scared of getting robot/synthetic lungs and further losing his humanity.

Not to mention, he has to do a lot of work to make sure he can actually LIFT his arm, as it has a lot of machinery in it and that can get quite heavy. He has a lot of frustration surrounding that as well. My version of tord is a tinkerer and always is trying to find new ways to improve something. So his arm is never quite finished. It’s more of an extension to his character than it is a replacement for his arm.

My portrayal of future Tom also has this concept, in the fact that he is blind. His visor does do a lot of things for him, and Tord spent a very long time even trying to get it to work AT ALL.

In a comic I made, it’s implied he had to go through several versions and tests over multiple months to even get him to see ANYTHING. And that comic also implied that it was only a START.

And even if it allows him to see, he still needs to take care of it, he has a backup incase something happens, he has to charge it, all this stuff. And also, it cannot help him see all the time. Like when he turns into a monster.

It can’t help him see when he turns to the size of a building. In fact, when he feels himself turning, he often tries to get the visor off of him as to avoid breaking it because he knows how hard Tord worked on it. But without it, He’s just a giant blind monster who has no idea what’s going on or where he is. And that is a recipe for disaster, my friends.

I will say my representations of technology are not exactly “realistic” and I’ll fully admit that. However, I think it’s important to take into account that sometimes, people just wanna design cool robot stuff that can do cool things. It’s the whole reason people love the idea of flying cars. Yes it’s unrealistic, and we have so many other vehicles that would be way more efficient, but come on- the idea of a flying car is very entertaining. And most of the time, that is what I focus on. If it’s entertaining or interesting.

Plus I’m just like “you know what, I like you- here’s some cool shit you can do cool things with.” That’s how I see the technology in WTFuture. Or at least that’s how I go about it.

In a more realistic and grounded universe outside of Eddsworld, such as my own original story “The Bad Hunters”, I would obviously go about this differently.

But in a world where people can turn into vampires, superhero’s, giant monsters, and just overall break most rules of physics and real life, I think it’s understandable why people in the fandom often default to “because it looks cool” when it comes to designs. After all, I think Edd Gould himself shared this sentiment. 90% of the decisions or jokes he made in his show, I guarantee he made “because it’s funny” or “because it’s cool”.

Like, for example, I have this joke that Tom during meetings will play minesweeper in his headset, because 1- it’s in character that he wouldn’t pay attention to meetings, and 2- it’s funny as hell. And let’s be real- if you’ve been on a zoom meeting that was boring, you’ve probably pulled up minesweeper or solitaire. Is that something realistically that a blind person would be able to do if they had a headset that allowed them to see? Absolutely not. But is it funny? Yes.

Future Matt also has a pretty big disability- that being he has some memory loss related to a brain injury. He got shot in the head and his eye was replaced with a metal one. He also had to get his jaw fixed. He often struggles with remembering what people just told him, and sometimes he forgets where Edd is and that he left. It also, much like Tom and tord and their disabilities, took some getting used to.

He’s also got a mini super computer in his eye that allows him to calculate bullet trajectory and allow him to dodge bullets matrix style. Because fuck it- future Matt is cool, he deserves cool shit. Also because tord was like “aight bro what if I made sure you never got shot in the face again”. Again- is it realistic? No. But is it cool? Yes.

Overall, as an author with disabilities myself, the portrayals of disability I enjoy the most are the ones that acknowledge “this shit sucks” but also are ones that allow for some levity and lightheartedness. This applies to both mental and physical disabilities.

Like toph from ATLA. Yes, she can’t see through the earth and she’s insanely powerful, but also, girlie can’t swim. Obviously, her drowning is no laughing matter, and they don’t make fun of that. But her confidently putting a poster on a wall the wrong way because she can’t see is hilarious.

Or like in arcane, when sevika gets a sick new arm made by jinx, only for it to turn out to be an unpredictable hunk of junk that will do random shit like blast music or shoot fireworks, and sevika is just like “bro are you fucking kidding me”. That may be the most realistic portrayal of a disability aid/tool I’ve ever seen. Sometimes it works great, but sometimes it’s a fucking piece of shit. It also helps that Sevikas arm links to her gambling addiction, hence the slot machine. Sure, it’s not the most “realistic” portrayal, but it does further her character and I think that is also a valid way to write it.

Overall, what I’d say is that I definitely agree with all of what was said above me! These are all valid points and the portrayal of scarring being used the characterize “evil”, or make them look scary, as well as just treating prosthetics as perfect replacements definitely don’t always sit right.

But also I would say that with portraying disability, don’t go the easy way out and basically get rid of their disability by giving them a perfect replacement with no issues that would realistically go along with this. Not just because it’s harmful and disability erasure, but also because it’s boring as shit.

Challenge yourself. Do some research. And most importantly, HAVE FUN.

-your friendly neighborhood tater

The Problem With the Eddsworld Fandom's Depictions of Red Leader/Future Tord, A Disabled Perspective

Disability is a contentious concept for most of society, with most either treating us with disgust, confusion, refusing to treat us as human, or to see our struggles as what they are. Ableism affects all people in many different ways, but as someone who focuses a lot of my energy in fandom spaces, the pervasiveness of ableism with how media and their fans interpet and react to disabled characters is a very personal situation for me. While many may argue that an ignorance to these topics in fiction has little bearing on real life, the prevalance of these tropes have echoed and led to feelings of othering for many disabled people, and oftentimes support the same notions that lead to the day-to-day ableism in our own personal lives.

In recent years, I have experienced this most often with the prevalance of negative disability tropes perpetrated by fanfiction surrounding the character of Tord, also known under the alias of Red Leader in some fanworks. It is a problem not just common in the Eddsworld fandom. A more recent, and much larger fandom in Mouthwashing also shares a common trend of repeated ableism in fan depictions and interpretarions of disabled characters. Most fan creators are unaware of these tropes and the harm that they cause, but as a disabled person, I am unable to ignore it.

For context on myself, you can call me Fish. Get it? Or"fish"eus? I like to think I'm funny. I am a mentally ill, disabled, and neurodivergent creative who has niche interests in representation in media and the intersection of intersectionality and fandom spaces. I experience chronic pain due to a multitude of conditions, all of which are invisible disabilities. I am NOT an amputee or have a facial difference, like the character I am analyzing. I can only speak based on my own research in my attempts to portray him positively, but I want to mainly focus on the ableist tropes I see and the real life effects they have. That is something I CAN focus on, because I've been dealing with it for years from conditions that came onset later in my life. I will be speaking from that perspective, but will be doing my best to try to educate on what I do know from my research to help authors, artists, and creatives create a better portrayal of him in fanworks.

The most common tropes I see with him are what I will call "The Disabled Villain", "The Innacurate Disability", and "The Ignored Disability". There are a few tropes in each, but for ease of organization (and the sake of your (and my) time), I will be talking about them together in these sections. There are also overlaps in many, but I will define the main issues with them.

The Disabled Villain

James Bond, Wonder Woman, The Witches. You name it. You have most likely seen this trope at work in cinema. A malicious evil-doer is revealed to have a "horrid" face symbolic of the true evil within their soul, while the beautiful, able-bodied hero is meant to stop them. It's a trope as old as time, one that goes back to even Plato. Tropes are tropes, people subvert them, so a few cases down the line may be excusable. But that has not been the case For many years, the most prevalent form of representation for disabled people was in these villains. Imagine if the only representation you had for yourself was narratives surrounding how the way you look or what your disability is and have it only be equated to evil people. It leads to a villainization of disabled people. People react to facial differences with disgust, because they are "shown" that it is "evil", or "ugly", or equal to being a horrible person. As stated by The Nora Project, "According to the book Disabilities: Insights from Across Fields and Around the World, disabled students are two to three times more likely to be bullied in comparison to their nondisabled classmates. The disabled villain trope contributes to this phenomenon in overt and subtle ways. For example, the trope implicitly encourages fear of disability and difference, while validating, and even elevating, those who fight against the evil, Disabled Villain. Bullying based on fear and disdain is almost a natural consequence of the trope when viewed in this light". Another big issue is that disabled characters have not been given space to exist outside of villainy. There are not many complex narratives surrounding them. This leads to our disabilities being downplayed, us being dehumanised, and we are seen more like props in real life, or simply tools to achieve a message in a narrative.

Tord's disability is never explicitly shown in the show. It is something more prevalent in Fanon, specifically in fanworks that focus on the "Future" era of the show's timeline, where the narrative and outside discussions on the show implies a high tech society, potentially dystopian, potentially a consequence of his actions. These ideas have taken a life of their own in the fandom, with many creators fully expressing these ideas. The problem arises when Red Leader falls in line with this trope. In many works, he is the sole disabled character, a figure of pure evil, or given little nuance in the narrative. Artists illustrate his scars as bright red, crimson, or, in TBATF, green. For some reason. In this way, they attempt to highlight the villainy by equating him with common symbols of evil: facial differences and disabilities. Unfortunately, these are not just symbols. These are conditions and scars that real people have, which the fandom tends to ignore in favor of dramatization.

This was a trope I most commonly saw explored in fanfiction when I first joined in 2016/17. The show, unfortunately, subtly and accidentally perpetrated it by having the only character visibly and irreparably "damaged" by the giant robot fight be Tord, despite the fact that Tom, who had a whole missile directed at him and got buried under a house, was fine with at most a leg injury and a cut on his arm. Luckily, we have grown past the need for ableist tropes, and the faults of the show can be left in the past!

... Not.

Disability tropes have simply evolved in how the fandom treats Tord. Even if it is now done with more consciousness and sympathy towards his character, ignorance still prevails. Let's talk about common pitfalls people fall into when writing him.

The Inaccurate Disability

In fanon perception, Red Leader is an amputee with a high tech prosthesis and a facial difference resulting from burn scars. Like many disabled characters, he suffers from a collective fandom lack of research. But never fret! That is what I have subjected myself to for the past four years, so your friendly neighborhood disabled Fish can tell you how to right your fandom wrongs! Just kidding! Take this as a pointer, and do your own research.

As is common with fictional prosthetics, his arm prosthetic is treated as a perfect fix for his amputation. It acts just like, if not better than an actual arm. The issue with this is that is isn't realistic. Yes, I know, I'm criticising Eddsworld fanfiction for not being realistic. STAY WITH ME HERE. Once again, if it was one instance, or a few, that explored prosthetics being incredibly functional in science-fiction, then it could be a cool concept. But when every sci-fi work has it, then that is no longer a concept. That is a misconception. And I have interacted with people who believed that prosthetics were 100% functional! The thing is, like all disability aids, it does not suddenly make us able-bodied. For example, I have ear defenders that I wear when I experience pain within my ears. But that does not mean my hearing will now become normal, and I will no longer experience pain from the sound I'm hearing. What WILL happen is that I will straight up not hear you. Like, literally. Can you repeat that? I had my ear defenders on. Oh, you're saying that my ear defenders aren't prosthetics and are not a fair comparison? Well, that's fair, but take this as an illustration of a disability aid and how they differ from able-bodied experiences. Also, many prosthetic users do many things without their prostheses, and some even prefer NOT to wear them. Blogs that explicitly cover disabled representation, such as @/cripplecharacters, have posts that cover WHY many amputees are not fans of this trope. The problem comes with that it erases disability, and yet also treats us like we are given a space at the table of representation. It's just another way that authors avoid actually doing research.

Other things that people tend to ignore are how burn scars, or any scars, would not only appear on a character, but also affect them. I have seen, aside from skin tones that looked like they were picked out of a crayon box instead of what would appear on a person, teeth exposed, wounds that look as if they are fresh from the explosion YEARS after they occurred, and what I like to call "paper shredder" scars. Because instead of them looking like burn or shrapnel scars, it appears as if his skin was put through a shredder. Once again, another consequence of the show's at most-30 second scene with questionable decisions that made massive ripples in the fandom. With the injuries Tord received, it is most likely that he would have two kinds of injuries: a burn on 18% of his body (minimum, based on rule of 9s), and/or shrapnel scars from debris. While shrapnel scars would manifest as darker scars, the burn scar would likely be a hypertrophic scar, as "70% of patients develop hypertrophic scars following burns" (Finnerty et. al). The scars, when healed, are warm toned on the boundaries of their areas and cool in between. When on a pale skintone, they are not too dissimilar, and would therefore not have such a drastic color difference as seen on skin. They would also not go down to the bone or skin, as that would be a completely different kind of injury, and are also commonly done to make him look "scarier", which then aids the Disabled Villain trope. It also treats these scars and injuries more like a work of fiction, rather than something that many real people have experienced, adding to continuous misinterpretations of real life disabilities and facial differences.

For writers wanting to include consequences of burns, what would be more likely to be affected are his hearing, vision, and nerves on the right side of his face, as burn scars can go as deep as nerve endings. Also, burn scars, especially third degree burns, require treatments, such as burn-specific skincare. Scars, especially burn scars, can affect you and become disabling. For artists, the main thing I don't see artists do is draw him with damaged hair follicles. Burn scars damage the scalp and eyebrows, preventing hair growth. I am sorry, but he would not still have fluffy, luscious hair. Do not kill me. He just wouldn't. And if you are saying that he had it in the show, I can't hear you because my ear defenders are on, but I hope you heard me, as we've gone over that the show is inaccurate and we should do our own research.

Even well intentioned authors and artists ignore many aspects of the disabilities he would likely have!

Which brings us to the last trope...

The Ignored Disability

Many well meaning people intend to give him nuance by trying to avoid the Disabled Villain trope. Accidentally, however, they end up completely ignoring his disabilities instead.

Just like the high-tech prosthetic, the real disabling aspects of having a disability are at best rarely mentioned. I have seen, in some fanworks, that he goes straight from amputation to having a prosthetic. And that is where his disability ends. Because the prosthetic ends up being a fix-all situation. Authors refuse, or forget, to include aspects of amputation, such as the healing process, stump or phantom pain. Artists will cover up his scars with a helmet or a mask, another trope that undermines his disabilities and attempts to brush it under the rug. I understand that there is a discomfort for able-bodied authors in thoroughly exploring how a character feels about their disability. That is something I think we should. Avoid. If you're not familiar with the experience of being that minority, you do not need to add commentary on it. And if you do, and it just falls into more negative tropes, I will send a salmon cannon at you (/j). However, I do not agree with brushing every disabling aspect of his life under the rug.

People can assume it's not a problem, like it isn't something blatantly apparent. But, if you assume that disability and being disabled is not a "big thing", you end up where your medication is denied because your insurance refuses to see your common procedure as not a necessary medical intervention because you're "too young". And that is not fiction. That is what inspired me to write this essay, because the day that I got that news was the same day I sat down and told myself that I needed to share my perspective on the perception of disabled characters by honing in on one of my favorite characters and how the fandom treated him.

Disabled characters deserve to be included in media, disability and all, with care given to how their life would operate as a result and what they would experience with their specific disability. That's why many people recommend sensitivity readers who can give proper insight upon that disability and can advise people to properly portray it.

But if you cannot afford or access that resource, what can you do?

Fish's Non-Cohesive List of Ways I Tried to Write Tord as a Non-Amputee Without a Facial Difference

Do research!! The more you are to try to understand what you are writing about, the less you are to misinterpret or misrepresent it.

Look into resources that focus on portraying disabled characters, especially with those you wish to write about. Read blogs, research tropes that are common in disabled characters, and hell, read medical journals. They can provide great insight (<< nerd who likes reading medical journals)

Include more disabled characters. Make the other boys be disabled! Want to be canon compliant? Create OCs who have disabilities! I have a bunch! It's 2024! Be cringe and be free! The character's disability would go against the traditional narrative form of "usefulness"? I'm an animator who can't wear headphones and a theatre performer who can't physically handle the volume of a band. And yet, we find ways to persist, to exist. We will always find our way to live in the way we want to, in whatever way we can.

Look into disability activism. Learn the difference between the Medical Model and Social Model of disability. Know what an invisible disability is. Listen to us when we say that we don't want to be treated as special or an inspiration for simply living (inspiration porn). The more you are aware of what we struggle in real life, the more aware you will be to not repeat those mistakes in your fiction.

Write what you can. Highlight little talked about aspects of having a burn scar or being an amputee, such as the recovery, or treatment for the chronic pain, or how different he would be in battle due to decreased depth perception. As a disabled author, I have personally touched on the experience of gaining a disability later in life, and how he copes with it. Now, not all of y'all can do that. But that is a personal experience I do have, and it is something I have highlighted in my own work. So, while I couldn't tell you the ins and outs of having a burn scar or a prosthetic arm, I could describe the shock and frustration that comes with suddenly experiencing difficulties, or even being unable to do what you had done before.

I ask that, if you are willing to do better, or to start on the right foot, you take what I have written, reflect on it, and treat disabled characters, and in turn, disabled people, better from here on out.

Fiction is not reality, but the way we deal with it is reflective of who we are and what we believe. The boundary for our own personal being does not suddenly stop within fiction. When we interact and interpret it and create for it, it is integral that we remain conscious that bigotry runs rampant, albeit often as an unseen force, within fandom spaces, and do our best to counteract that.

I have doubts that the new eddisode will treat this topic with the same respect. I hope you can all go forward with what you have read in this WAY LONGER than I expected essay, and do what those grown British men cannot. Even if they erase it, retconn it, or do not treat it with respect, let's all go forward and do better!

As for always, you can discuss more in the tags or my inbox!

I hope you have a wonderful life,

Fish