#like I had one in mind for various minor kids that were most around to see Phineas and Ferb's big ideas

[spc-rambles]

I realise that naturally people would be focused on Heinz, but I'm just focused on how this one woman from Roger's award ceremony scene in "Tree to Get Ready' seems to have a friend who's a crazy cat man.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

In His Element

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: After watching Matt cross examine a witness, your patience is worn thin, leaving you to plead with the devil.

warnings: SMUT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. fingering, brief masturbation, descriptions of fem genitalia, dom!Matt's filthy mind, and also him being so attractive

a/n: THIS IS MY FIRST EVER SMUT THAT WASN'T GHOST WRITTEN SO IT MIGHT NOT BE GREAT. I am going to keep practicing for y'all though! As always, please comment/reblog and leave me feedback if you desire :)

w/c: 3.5k

With clammy fingers, you smoothed your wrinkled skirt until it lay flat over your knees, crossing your ankles under the pew you were seated in. In your haste to find a seat before the trial resumed, you’d landed directly below an A/C vent, which was blowing a harsh current over you. The hair along your limbs stood on end, your heart pumping your blood in smaller loops, leaving your extremities to slowly wither. It should’ve been uncomfortable, but you were far too focused on the heat churning in your gut as your eyes followed your partner’s pacing form.

Hands stacked loosely over the handle of his cane, Matt’s head tilted slightly as he prepared to ask the prosecution’s witness a question. He was facing away from you, but you could imagine the exact emotionless-yet-somehow-haughty expression that graced his face. It was one of the attributes of your boyfriend’s stoic appearance that emerged behind the courtroom doors that you found mind-numbingly attractive.

“Officer Bauer,” Matt’s voice sent a shudder down your spine. Though the man wore a literal mask most nights, he had a variety of metaphorical personality-masks that suited various environments—his everyday polite demeanor, the protective and concerned boyfriend that always surfaced whenever you were threatened or hurt, and, notably, the serious, calculating attorney persona he adopted during his trials.

Biting your tongue to freeze your body in place, you inhaled slowly, trying not to draw attention to yourself. A quick glance to the jury confirmed that you were not the only one entranced by the dark-haired man as he strode back and forth, a few feet in front of the witness stand. He had you all captivated.

Shifting his weight to his heels, Matt was angled enough that you could see the innocent smile he directed at the man sweating on the stand. “Can you tell me what you were doing at the corner of 52nd and 8th on the afternoon of Thursday, March 6th?”

A simple question, innocuous enough that the callous man he was questioning let out an indignant scoff as he answered. ”Patrolling.“

You rolled your eyes at his single word response, his disdain for the judicial process evident in his slouched posture and bored tone. He was practically falling asleep in the worn leather chair, his half-lidded eyes trained on Matt like a dazed serpent. The man looked foul and, from the little that Matt had told you, his personality matched.

Despite the apathetic participant he was dealing with, Matt remained calm and composed. His smile widened marginally, revealing a flash of his pristine teeth as he huffed in amusement.

"Of course. And when you were on patrol you noticed the defendant amongst a group of young adults. Is that correct?"

Your chest was convulsing as your heart pounded from your rib cage. Matt was exceptionally intelligent and had explained his tactic for cross-examining this inattentive cop, but that didn't make it any less suspenseful as you watched his game of cat and mouse play out before your very eyes.

The officer's slitted eyes wandered to the ceiling as he sighed. "Yeah."

"Can you describe the group to me?" Matt lifted his shoulders as he posed the question, not quite shrugging, but definitely indicating that, while he believed the leathery-skinned witness had not yet satisfied his curiosity.

“Buncha kids. Messin around.” Four words rather than one. That was progress, right? Akin to the marble rolling down a track at the beginning of a complex Rube Goldberg machine. The task was far from accomplished, but there was motion somewhere within the structure.

“And, as your partner stated earlier, most of the kids were white, is that correct?” The first hint of something substantial. You pressed your lips together, holding in a smile as your mind started to piece together the rocky, cobblestone path your boyfriend was laying for his uncooperative witness.

“Yes.”

“What encouraged you and your partner to approach the defendant and other students in the park?” Tone laced with what sounded like genuine curiosity, Matt raised a brow at the arresting officer. His ability to color his voice in a way that would appeal to the jury never ceased to amaze you.

“We got news of a nearby break in, and they were actin' suspicious.”

At this point, you were pretty much tuning the lazy cop out—waiting for Matt to open his mouth again, to speak in the beautifully deep, almost hoarse way he always did when defending his clients. His words were direct, controlled in the same manner his general conduct was, his anger and need for justice hidden behind an expressionless facade.

It was intoxicating, his ability to hold back. Almost as divine as his ability to let go.

“Can you describe these suspicious activities for the court?”

Fidgeting with a loose thread on the hem of your skirt, you let Matt's voice drape over you like a wool blanket on a winter night. Comforting, warm, and a tad prickly. Only ears as finely tuned to the man's peculiarities could pick up the barbed edge of his questioning—thousands of serrated teeth waiting to ensnare the animal as soon as it was within their grasp. Knowing how talented your partner was in his field, that moment wasn't far away.

The chair creaked as the cop shifted with a hefty shrug. “Ya know, talkin' all low to each other, shovin' things in their bags while lookin' over their shoulder...” He trailed off, mashing a fist against his nose with an awful throat clearing sound.

“And, while on your patrol, you noticed the group acting this way.” More of a statement than a question. Matt was closing in.

“Yea, that’s what I just said.” The cop snorted, completely unaware of the brutal fate that awaited him.

“So you and your partner decided to intervene?” Matt reasoned aloud. He was pacing again. Your attention had been solely on his voice, not his footsteps.

“Course that’s our job.” The ignorant man to the right of the judge shifted again in his seat, his frustration visibly growing as Matt continued to hurl benign and repetitive questions at him.

“And when you exited your vehicle, what happened?” Matt asked.

“They took off.” Bauer answered, irritated.

“On foot?” Matt clarified.

“Yes.” The witness rubbed forcefully at the bridge of his nose again.

“And it’s true that my client left with them?” Gesturing softly to the young woman seated at the defense's table to indicate to the room who his client was, in case they needed a reminder.

 “Yes.” Bauer confirmed.

“So the entire group dispersed on foot?” Matt asked with an air of confusion. His rumbling baritone lifting on the tail end to indicate his dismay.

“Yep.” Bauer grit his teeth, tiring quickly as Matt persisted.

“At the same time?” Matt asked with the same bewildered look on his face.

“Yes.” His witness growled.

“The same group that was acting in a suspicious manner?” Matt questioned.

“Yes. I just said that.” Voice raising, you could see Bauer's face getting redder by the second.

“Then can you tell me, Officer Bauer, why you and your partner BOTH decided to pursue my client?”

Bauer's eyes flashed with something similar to understanding, his mouth remaining clamped shut as Matt stepped closer, closing in on his prey.

“You’ve previously reported and just now confirmed that the entire group left when they noticed you approaching. Yet you and your partner both were solely focused on my client rather than any of the other members of the group. Tell me, officer, is that because of her race?” Matt's words flew out of his mouth rapidly, a string of poorly concealed accusations within them.

You barely had time to appreciate Matt's ingenuity before the lead prosecutor bolted out of her seat. "Objection, Your Honor, that is clearly leading."

"Sustained. Counselor?" The judge glanced at Matt for his next move.

Holding up a hand, Matt didn't miss a beat. “I’ll rephrase. Officer, what reason did you have for pursuing my client rather than any of the other students?”

"Well, she was acting weird," Bauer stammered, his eyes bulging with fear. He'd spotted the threat then.

“In the same manner as the rest of the group, as you previously stated, all of whom you approached with your partner. Yet both of you ran after my client.”

“Yes.” Nodding cautiously, Bauer's voice was suddenly small.

“And, besides her race, can you give any other reason she stood out to you as more suspicious than the rest of the group?”

“Objection, leading.” The prosecution called out, her voice a bit shrill with desperation.

"Overruled. Mr. Murdock, please continue with your line of questioning." The judge's gaze flitted between the prosecutor and the witness who was now sweating profusely on the stand.

“Thank you, your honor. Officer Bauer, can you explain to the court exactly how my client was acting differently?” Changing the question slightly, Matt's lips twitched with the hint of a smirk.

“I don’t know, she, she just was!” Bauer cried, flustered.

“Is there any other difference between her and the rest of the group that you can explicitly state other than her appearance or her race?” Matt asked, cheeks twitching as he gleefully listened to the snare clasp around its victim.

“No.” Bauer answered. "But, but it wasn't like that!"

Turning to the judge, Matt's spine was straight with satisfaction as he announced his intentions. “Your honor, the defense would like to file a motion to dismiss this case on the grounds of selective enforcement. The combined testimony of Officers Bauer and Burke demonstrates an intent to frisk my client because she was black, not solely because of her actions, negating the principle of reasonable suspicion.”

The courtroom exploded, the witness and prosecution both howling in protest as the defendant and Matt both smirked. Grinning ecstatically, you stifled a laugh as the uproar continued, until the judge finally granted the dismissal. You couldn’t lessen your smile if you tried. 

Flooding out of the courtroom amidst the sea of spectators and journalists, you stepped out of the current as quickly as you could. Craning your neck over the waves of bobbing heads, you broke into a wide grin when you saw Matt trailing after the masses, cane sweeping inches from their ankles like he was chasing them out. As soon as he was within reach, you called his name, eagerly grasping his outstretched hand and tugging him out of the doorway.

“God, Matty, that was incredible.” You exclaimed breathlessly, wrapping him in a tight hug. His forehead landed against your hair, his nose skimming the shell of your ear as he shook with a resonant chuckle.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss against your neck, a guttural noise slipping out as he did. “Fuck, you smell so good.”

His words were barely audible, a secret to only be shared with you. They sent another wave of need straight to your core. “Matthew,” You mumbled, his name breaking off into a whine.

Another huff of laughter sounded in your ear. Planting another kiss against your neck, Matt's broad hands squeezed your hips. “My place. Now.”

“What about you?” You murmured, mouth watering as every touch from your boyfriend left a lingering patch of heat along your skin.

“I have a few things to finish up here, but I'll be there when I can. I promise.” You didn't need to hear his heartbeat to feel the honesty in his vow.

The idea of waiting for him made your knees tremble, the joints threatening to buckle as Matt swiped a calloused thumb over the bare skin of your waist, his hand beneath your shirt. “Matty, please.”

Matt shushed you sweetly. “Not here, angel. Be a patient girl for me and I'll make all your pain worth it, I promise.”

With one final squish of your hips, Matt separated from you.

The walk to Matt’s apartment was excruciating. With each step, the throbbing between your legs grew more intense. By the time you’d made it up the stairs and flopped onto his couch, you were practically panting with want. 

Now, you were desperately trying to focus on your book, but the words on the page might as well have been gibberish given how little you'd retained since you started. How were you supposed to manage when the image of Matt's parted lips was branded on the back of your eyelids.

“Be a patient girl for me and I'll make all your pain worth it, I promise.”

Patience was never your strongsuit.

Digging your front teeth into your lip, you dropped your head to the arm of Matt's couch with a thunk, whimpering as your discomfort crested. Blowing out a breath, you clenched the paperback book with vigor, fingernails stabbing the parchment inside, scarring it with tiny crescents. If only this book was Matt's broad back.

He loved when you got a little rough with him. You couldn't help it. As soon as his mouth was on you, your eyes shut, vision blanketed with stars. Your hands would grapple for whatever surface they could find to anchor you as Matt rocked the two of you in tandem, your nails carving scratches into Matt's beautiful, sporadically-freckled skin in the process.

The first time it happened, you'd been horrified. Stammering out an apology and offering to apply antibiotic gel to the red marks, but your boyfriend had just smiled, assuring you that he didn't mind.

“Each of those marks is a reminder that I'm yours, sweetheart.”

Arching your back as Matt's dulcet tone echoed in your ears, the book toppled to the ground with a flutter of pages. Hands wandering over your body, you reminded yourself to be patient.

Matt will be here soon. He will.

But not soon enough. A voice buried somewhere in your subconscious warned, encouraging your primal desires and urging your hands to free the hem of your blouse from where it was tucked beneath the waistband of your skirt. Fingertips trailing over the now-exposed skin of your lower belly, you hummed softly as a ripple of pleasure circled out from your fingertips.

Unbuttoning your skirt, you slowly loosened the fabric enough for your hand to dip under it. Dragging a finger over your panties towards your core, you hissed as it finally reached your delicate clit. The bundle of nerves was overly sensitive after being ignored for so long. Pulling the cotton aside, you pushed your finger between your folds, smiling as it danced over your clit. Circling it carefully with a single finger, you shuddered as your body began to buzz with a familiar thrill.

Rocking your hips into your hand slowly, you could barely hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears—which meant that the slam of a closing door caught you off guard.

Yanking your hand out of your underwear with a yelp, you sat up, frantically jerking your head towards the door.

“I thought I told you to wait for me, sweetheart.” Matt's face was shrouded by an array of shadows, the glint of his malicious smirk tinted red in the light of his living room window.

“I—I was!” You mumbled, arousal seeping into your panties as Matt stalked towards you with a laugh.

“You know I can tell when you're lying, sweets. Want to try that again?”

“Depends,” You retorted, adrenaline reigniting the confidence Matt always brought out in you. “Are you planning on apologizing for being so late?”

Chuckling sinfully, Matt cornered you against the back of the couch, fingers deftly unlooping the fabric of your skirt from the remaining buttons. Leaning down until your lips were practically touching, his mouth glanced against yours as he spoke, ignoring your question. "Do you know how difficult it is to remain coherent when you've clouded the entire courthouse in your scent?"

"W-what?" You stammered, gasping shallowly when Matt's teeth grazed the underside of your jaw, his lips kissing languidly along your neck.

"Did you miss me that much, sweetheart? Wanted me to take you right there on the floor before the jury?" Matt purred, making your cheeks thrum with bashful heat.

"I'm not the only one who wanted that, it seems." You grinned, cupping your hand over the noticeable bulge in his pants. “I can't help it, Matt. Watching you in your element...you're intoxicating. I can't listen to two words out of your mouth without wanting to drag you to the nearest bathroom.”

Palming his cock through the layers he wore, Matt growled into the skin of your neck, nipping at your pulse point. Static ricocheted from the impact, freezing you in place as your thighs flexed.

Shedding you of your skirt, Matt gently caressed the cotton covering your drenched pussy. “Can I—”

“Please,” You begged, choking in a breath before Matt's mouth crashed against yours. His stubble bristled against your skin, the small pinpricks a pleasant contrast to his plush lips. Tearing the remaining clothes from your legs, Matt threw his leg over your torso, encouraging you to fully recline against the leather. One hand cupping the back of your head, the other was splayed across your mound, a single dextrous finger parting your glistening lips.

He tasted like salt, like want. His tongue lapping at you like he needed to swallow you whole, like he couldn't get enough.

His cheeks ruffled as a strangled moan escaped him. “You're this wet for me, sweetheart?”

“All for you.” You panted, the air between you growing thick with feverish heat. “Always for you.”

With a beautiful grin, Matt's finger swiped over your entrance. “You ready?”

Nodding sloppily, you brought your hands up to cup his cheeks, tugging him back to your lips. Mouth colliding with yours, the force became bruising when your body rutted upwards, a jolt of satisfaction striking your every cell as Matt's finger entered you.

You hissed as the familiar pleasant pain washed over you. Arching your back as Matt pumped his digit upwards, you moaned, clapping a hand over your mouth as the sound escaped you. 

Matt chuckled. “No need to be quiet, sweetheart. Tell me how it feels.”

“So g-good, Matty.” You whimpered, every nerve within your folds quivering as Matt dragged his finger out of you, pushing it in again as he scraped his teeth over your neck. You cried out, vision going black as your body strained to find release. Your fingers dug into the silk beneath you, yanking at the sheets.

As your desperation grew, the rest of your limbs faded into numbness, your brain solely focused on the sensations of Matt’s callouses scraping against your walls—as if he was scratching an itch that had been niggling at you for hours. 

Matt hummed against your throat, pressing the pad of his thumb against your clit, making you yelp. The fire within you was out of control, your body drawn taught like the string of a bow. 

Wriggling slightly beneath his touch, your breaths became shallow, your stamina worn thin after watching him in court. You whined, twisting slightly to avoid launching yourself over the alluring edge into heavenly oblivion. 

“So close already, sweets?” He teased, repeatedly strumming the bundle of nerves. 

You moaned in assent, fisting the blankets in your clammy hands. His thick fingers tangled in your hair, giving your locks a tug and drawing a pleased yelp from your mouth. 

“Go on. Come for me.” Matt rasped, his breath fanning over your face. 

The command shoved you over the cliff, your lungs clenching as you stifled a scream. Your tailbone rutted up, your back arching off the mattress. Everything went white, your ears ringing as sheer pleasure coursed through your veins.

Matt was murmuring to you, his words muddled by the blood rushing in your ears. “–at’s my girl. Always such a good girl.” 

Rounding the peak, you collapsed to the mattress, your body trembling viciously. Each beat of your heart shook your rib cage, the motions rippling throughout your limbs. Hands flexing, you hissed as the muscles stretched out of mashed fists. Cupping Matt’s cheeks, you smiled as he eagerly dipped to kiss you. 

“Good?” He asked, the question punctuated by the noise of your lips pulling apart. 

“Fuck, Matty,” You whispered, head still swimming from the influx of oxytocin. “Yes. Yes, it was good. S-so good.” 

Withdrawing his hand from between your legs, Matt cradled you against his chest, brushing a thumb over your nape as your soul re-tethered. Lifting one wobbly leg, you shifted, attempting to throw the leaden weight over him, but Matt gently caught you by the thigh, encouraging you to relax. 

“What about you, love?” You asked, drawing in a harsh breath when Matt’s teeth nipped under your ear, his fingers already spreading your legs again.

“Later.” He huffed, his stiff length falling against your plush hip. “I’m not done with you quite yet.”

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @ignore-mp3 @silas-aeiou @screechingphantommaker @spiderstyles04 @paradox-brody-chase @msjb2002 @blue-devil-of-the-lord @pigeonmama @daisy-arien0 @yarrystyleeza

[4theluvofsapphos]

Butterfingers - Ch. 2

Melissa Schemmenti x Futch Mechanic!Reader

A/N: no beta, but this is a shorter chappy but it's filler for big things i promise!!!! let me know how u like this one :3 enjoi!!!!

warnings: nada

chapter 1 here

tags: @10gay-keysmash01

Wandering through the halls of the school, you took your time– meandering about from machine to machine, checking stock. Nothing seemed to be amiss aside from a minor repair on the primary hallway vending machine. The thing seemed to have a busted display panel, so users wouldn’t know what they were picking, fate deciding whether or not their corn nuts would be barbeque or ranch. 

As you unscrewed the punch pad’s panel, you thought about your giant duffel bag carrying a cartel-sized amount of snacks for the teacher’s lounge. 

A small chuckle escaped your lips at the thought, something amused you about the idea of a bunch of adults wanting candy and Cheetos. In a way, you found it wholesome. There was absolutely nothing wrong with it, you thought. It made sense, they were around kids all the time– and kids had some of the best snacking inventory out of all of humanity. 

The sound of a familiar voice ripped you from your thoughts,”Hey new guy! What tech-centric genius IT thing are ya doin’ over there?” 

Janine jogged over to you, (miraculously) out of breath in the four hurried steps she had just taken. Your eyes glimmered with the question. 

You were always something of a teacher. Loving to teach, and more than that, loving to see people learn new things. There was something so satisfying about seeing the gears turn, before clicking things into place and watching a machine whir to life just as it should. 

“Oh! It’s nothing too serious, actually. The LCD here seems to be busted, so it’s just a matter of getting a replacement part and plugging these little wires back in right here.” You gestured to the small 5 pin wires needed to connect the screen to the rest of the vending machine. 

Janine nodded, clearly not entirely there. She seemed to be looking around for something, and her eyes lit up as soon as she (assumedly) found that thing…or person, rather.

You didn’t mind the dismissal from Janine– you knew your interests were boring to most, or just too complex for people to care about much. Rifling through your repair bag, you opened a large plastic container with multiple small compartments. Various pin wires, replacement nuts and bolts, and most importantly, a small handful of packaged LCD screens sat in the different compartments. 

Taking one out of its plastic, you stuck the container back in your bag, before looking over to Janine, only to see that she was waving down the fiery headed teacher from the day before. She was approaching rather quickly, alarmingly so, actually– how on Earth did a woman so petite move so damn fast?!

Brushing aside your unnerved feelings for the mach one woman racing towards you, you turned back to the pin holders still sticking out of the machine, connecting the red and blue wires, before going to connect the black and yellow ones. 

“What is it, Janine?” The woman grunted, seemingly annoyed she had to detour. “I’m boutta’ to be late for class, and so are you, kid. Whaddya even doin’ over here– oh.” 

The older woman’s gaze went from the beaming young teacher, to your face, before darting away. 

“Yeah uh. Hey.” She muttered, shifting uncomfortably from one heel onto the other. Something in you crumbled at her reaction to your presence. Did she really not like you? Maybe it was just because it was early morning…that’s what you told yourself to calm your rising anxieties. 

Smiling in response, you let out a little hum in greeting, before turning back to your work. 

Melissa clutched her jacket tighter around herself. You noticed she used it like her shield. Something hardened and tough to protect her, maybe? You didn’t have time to speculate– Janine hopped up, patting you on the shoulder and jogging off to class. 

“See you, y/n! Glad to see you’re settling nicely!” Janine yelled as she rounded a corner, disappearing.

“Oh- uhm! Bye!” You called after, turning to the machine, before looking over at Melissa, who stood there– seeming to hover, as if waiting for something. 

You looked up into those prying green eyes, lips pursing tight as you thought of what to say. 

Looking down to your duffel of snacks, you suddenly realized what she was likely waiting for. Grabbing the grey bag with one hand, you lifted the bag while standing up. Melissa followed your gaze, having to crane her neck to see your eyes. 

“Sorry about that, I totally thought you were waiting to talk to me– you probably want this, right?” You asked sheepishly, opening a compartment in the duffel, and handing her a small Butterfingers. The bright yellow packaging gleamed in the fluorescent light of the halls. 

Melissa’s brows knitted, an unreadable expression crossing her features before she smiled small. 

“Oh...thanks, hon.” She sighed, seeming almost disappointed. You cracked a smile at this, knowing she would’ve wanted more than just the one piece of candy. 

“I’m messing with you, red. I have this for you.” With a swift motion, you grabbed a quart sized Ziploc bag full of the glimmering yellow and blue candy. 

The redhead’s eyes bugged out to the size of dinner plates at your grand display. 

“Holy fuckin’-- damn it, you really didn’t hafta do all this! When I said some, I meant a few. Do you know what a few looks like?” 

Your features lit up with a nearly face splitting grin,”Several, right? Which is more than two, but not many, but many is a lot, and this is only a quart size. So by definition, you could say this is a few, isn’t it?” 

Melissa’s eyes rolled so hard they almost fell right out of her head, a smile threatening to spill onto her features. 

She gave a small laugh, and the sound had you grinning even harder, somehow. You presented the bag to her with two hands, the duffel half open on one arm, your tool belt on your other arm, and your repair bag hanging off of your wrist. You looked absolutely insane, but something about that fact seemed to endear Melissa.

She carefully took the bag, cheeks puffing out with how surprisingly hefty the bag was. “In any case, you’re absolutely insane n’ I think you’re crazy for this.” She chuckled halfheartedly, her features hardening to a level of genuine sincerity. “Thank ya, though…really. No one’s ever really done…this for me. Get me my favorite candy n’ what not. So. Yeah. Thanks..”

Before you could say anything back, Melissa turned on her heel and sped off (at that alarmingly fast speedwalk). You let a small puff of air out of your nose, something like a laugh. But you’d never laugh at Melissa Schemmenti. She wasn’t someone to be laughed at. Turning back to the LCD you’d been fixing, you plugged in the remaining connectors, before screwing the panel back on and plugging the machine back in. 

As expected, the screen flickered to life. You nodded to yourself, before standing up and heading to the teacher’s lounge. 

–

Melissa settled into her classroom while the kids went about writing their daily plans and writing prompt for the morning. Looking at the bag sitting in her lower left drawer, she noticed something sticking out of the mound of Butterfingers she’d recently come into possession of. Opening the bag, she grabbed the slip of paper, unfolding it carefully. 

Hey Red,

Hope you don’t hate me for my clumsy introduction. Found these fresh from the factory for you. 

Enjoy!

y/n

Melissa’s lips parted, before she quickly crumpled the note and tossed it into the trash. She couldn’t do this, not again. 

Not another repairman, not another relationship.

But if you were a woman, did that make it different?

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Firefighter!Eddie Munson x reader

Warnings: none, fluff

~ Been thinking about Eddie as a fire fighter after watching 9-1-1

Not proofread

Eddie never had any real desire to get into this type of profession. The thought never even crossed his mind. After he got into some trouble with police. the judge gave him two options to pick from, which were. Spend a few months behind bars or community service.

After a while, he ended up failing in love with it. He very much liked uniform and riding around in that big truck. He loved helping people. He figured out that was his true calling. He's been caught in some very life-threatening situations. For the part most, he's getting calls for various things. Usually, they're just false alarms, or some kid got their head stuck in something.

Eddie's saved cats from trees and families from their burning homes. Every day, he goes home smelling like smoke. Eddie wouldn't trade this life for anything else. Not to mention, most of the town laid off his ass too. That was a big plus. No more harassment or being threatened.

His department got a call like normal early that morning. For a small house fire that got a little out of control. Eddie rushed with the rest of his squad and got his uniform on, hopping in the truck.

By the time they got their the fire was pretty much put out thanks to you. Your neighbor was in her eighties, and her cat had knocked her candle off the table. The fire lit up her shaggy curtains in an instant.

The entire squad rushed into her apartment anyway to inspect everything just to make sure it was safe. Eddie went in but came back out to talk to you.

"You put out the fire?" He walked up, taking his helmet off. His uniform stained in old soot. E. Munson was patched on his jacket at the bottom.

You had just helped the paramedics take away your neighbor. She had asked you to watch over her cat for the night. Which you happily agreed to.

You turn around. "Oh, uhh yeah, I did-."

"That could have gotten real ugly next time. Just leave and let us handle it." He walked a little closer. His tone wasn't rude, but it wasn't too friendly at first either.

You nodded, knowing he was right after all. That fire could have gotten really bad very fast. "Hopefully, there won't be a next time."

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck."So you live here long?" Eddie's tone changed to more a friendly one.

His eyes squinted a little as the sun beamed down on him.

You smile and begin to walk away, "Two years."

"Two years? Wow, we get calls here all the time, and this is my first time seeing you." He recalled raising his eyebrows.

Eddie has been called to this apartment building more than he can recall. He knows the people and the building like the back of his hand. One time, it was for a kid who stuck marbles up his nose. The others were for little none dangerous things. But he definitely should have remembered a face like yours by now.

You slowly side by side, "good or bad?"

He stopped walking, and a smirk played on his lips, "I guess in this type of circumstance good."

"So I should start calling for any tiny minor inconvenience?" You turned to face him.

He was about to say something else but was cut off when another fireman yelled for him. "Eddie! It's all clear!"

You watched him throw a thumbs up and look back at you. The sun, his eyes, made his brown eyes almost glow. His hair was tied in a low bun, and he had slight stumble. You noticed a tattoo on his neck peaking out from the collar of his jacket.

He chuckled and went back to your conversation, "If I got to see that pretty face, I think I can let it slide."

Your felt your face get hot, and you cleared your throat. "I bet you would."

Eddie looked down at his hands, taking his gloves off, revealing a few fades scars more tattoos. His voice got a little low, "are you by chance single?"

"I am." You eyed him curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Jus' wanted to go on one little date." He shrugged.

"Only one?" You questioned. You didn't want to sound offended, but why one date?

"Oh yeah, only need one to convince you in seeing me again." He kept his tone playful and light-hearted.

Eddie can tell he probably insulted you. He definitely didn't want to do that. He was just trying to be flirty.

"You think you can win me over with one little date?" You crossed your arms over your chest.

He stepped closer to you. "Oh, absolutely." His demeanor full of confidence. he was so sure he could woo you into as many dates as you wanted.

"Fine, we'll see if you're right then, Eddie." You bit your cheek trying not to laugh. You took what he said as a challenge. You also won't deny you did like him. You only met him an hour ago. For such short interaction, you felt drawn to him. He this twinkle in his eye that made you want to get to know him.

You and Eddie exchange numbers before you watched him hop back into that big firetruck parked out. He sat in the front seat with an arm hanging out the window. You couldn't look away. You saw him tip his helmet toward you as they pulled off and back to the station.

You hope your first date goes well because you're already planning the second one.

[its-in-the-woods]

Coyote Head - Part 6 - Postcard Perfect

master list

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Pairing: Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean 

Includes many other characters from Fallout

Synopsis: So much can happen in one morning. A picture perfect moment, and meeting with a ex.

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning:  Animal/people death,, Alternative Universe, Slow Burn, Death, Aging, Family Feuding, Older Man/Younger Woman

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. So you have been warned. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

*Actually pretty fluffy... for now.. enjoy

The next three days go by fast, cow checks happen every four hours, every day, like clockwork. Morning, afternoon, dinner, and then two overnight. Cooper handles the ones during daylight hours, his brother Mark handles the night ones. Lucy was grateful for that, not that she slept much, between nightmares and random knocks on the house. She’d kept most of that to herself, but Cooper had noticed, he noticed a lot of things. He'd even offered to do the first shift so she could sleep in, but she, of course, refused. The routine meant she got a moment out of the house, it also meant she got to hang out with the kids. 

Matthias still wasn’t her biggest friend, but his guard was lowering slowly. On Friday, when Cooper brought the kids over after school, he had handed Lucy a drawing. For being twelve he was pretty talented. He’d taken the time to draw a field, cows, and calves with the sun setting in the background. Lucy had thanked him and promptly put it up on the fridge which granted her, her first real smile from him. She’d do anything to hug him, but for now, she’d take the picture. She knew what it felt like to be young and not understand why a parent was gone. To not understand why things had changed suddenly. Lucy was just grateful that he had Cooper, what she would have done to have had at least one parent with her. Even though she loved her Grandparents, it was never the same without either of her parents. 

Janey was a whole different story, she loved to tell stories, and read stories. When she had discovered that she could read from Lucy’s bookshelves she was over the moon. Lucy doing her best to persuade her from anything too adult-themed. Settling on a classic, Hobbit. Cooper had shrugged in agreement, mentioning that she had always loved to read as soon as she learned. So Lucy let the copy go, the little girl was immediately taken by it. 

Lucy woke up Saturday morning having finally slept, she actually felt somewhat refreshed. Her mind was always wandering to Cooper. The more time she spent with him, the more she wanted to spend time with him. Even though they were nearly living out of each other's pockets, she couldn't help herself. Mind wandering to what kissing him would feel like, how his hands would hold her. Lucy flushed and finished getting herself dressed in comfortable clothes and made her way to make a pot of coffee. Feeling her feet get wet as she walked into the water.

“What the-” Lucy cussed, as she lifts her foot to inspect a large pool of water. “Dang-nabbit.” 

She runs back to her room digging out a handful of towels and toeing off her socks before running back to the kitchen. Lucy lays out the towels on the floor, scrambling to open up the under-sink cupboards. The various detergents and cleaners are thrown out as she tries to see what’s leaking. The space emptied, so she could see that the pipes had been split. 

“My goodness, why!” Lucy grumbles, realizing that the pipes had split just on the other side of the shut-off valves. 

She gets up too quickly and bangs her head on the underside of the sink. More words fall out of her mouth as she rubs the bump. Moving swiftly to the door she unlocks it and walks out, stepping around the rocks and stones as she goes to the side of the house. Swinging open the crawl space door she ducks in, happy that the water shut-off valve was inside. Lucy turns it off, her feet covered in the black mud as she stomps back into her house. Lucy closes her eyes for a moment to collect herself, before she starts to mop up the water that’s left on the floor. 

“Lucy?” Cooper’s voice comes in from the doorway.  

“Just in the kitchen,” Lucy replies, happy that help has finally arrived. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Cooper says, placing his hat on a nob by the front door. Walking into the room to observe the mess that was spread out onto the floor. 

Lucy sighs, as she drops the last towel into the sink. “The pipes under the sink burst, split just on the wrong side of the shut-off too.”

Cooper crouches right beside her, the smell of cigarettes and coffee wafting off of him. Lucy shuffled over so that he could see what they were working on.

“Well that’s weird,” Cooper squints, leaning forward to kneel on a rolled-up towel. “Never seen that happen before. Unless it froze, which would be odd for the beginnin’ of April.”

Lucy sighs, rubbing at her head, “Everything is insulated, and the heat tape is still on it. Plus it would have burst other pipes too.”

“Move’er, sweetheart,” Cooper murmurs, Lucy shifts over, as Cooper crawls into the cupboard pulling a pocket knife out of his pants. 

Lucy swallowed as his shirt rode up a sliver of tanned skin being exposed. Lucy feeling like she was fourteen seeing a boy shirtless for the first time, averting her eyes she chooses to stand up. Looking around trying to figure out how to hide the flush that was now staining her cheeks as the man fiddled around under the sink.

“Do you want coffee?” Lucy asked moving over to the cupboard to dig out cups. “I got a spare to-go mug.”

“Yeah, s’good.” Cooper said, voice echoing from below her. “Do ya’know if you got some spare PEX pipe hanging around?”

A knock on the door, had Lucy spilling coffee on her hand, Cooper banged his head under the sink. A whole slew of curse words spilling out of both of them, Lucy moves to the door. Completely forgetting with the mess that Dane was coming over to work on the tractors. 

“Lucy,” Dane says, a smile fading from their face as she takes in Lucy. “Oh, shit. Are you okay?”

Lucy tries to smile which turns into more of a frown, “Pipe burst. My kitchen is a mess, but I have coffee?”

Dane chuckles, looking into the kitchen Cooper standing with a pieces of Pex in his hand, his other hand rubbing at his head. The two of them give awkward smiles at each other. 

“Oh! This is Cooper.” Lucy said, wandering back into the kitchen to pour three cups of coffee. “Cooper, this is Dane, they have come over to work on Tim’s old tractors.”

Cooper nodded, reaching a hand out to shake Dane’s, “Nice to meet you Dane, please excuse the mess, pipes seem t'have burst.”

“Not a problem, at least there is always coffee.” Dane nods, happily accepting the coffee Lucy hands over. 

“There is sugar in the gnome on the counter, cream is in the fridge.” Lucy says, handing Copper his mug of coffee. 

Cooper took a few sips, before helping Lucy place things in somewhat order on the counter. Lucy takes all the sopping wet towels into the laundry room hucking them into the washing machine. 

“We do have calf check, but I can show you where the tractors are. There is pretty much any tool you could need, along with an arrangement of parts.” Lucy chatters, as the trio make their way to the door.

Across the yard the three go to the big green and grey barn, Cooper helps slide the heavy wood doors open, Lucy had worked hard to get the place functional. It hadn’t had many animals in it, Tim had turned it into a workshop, engine hoist, and a large tool bench. The two tractors are slotted side by side. 

“This is perfect!” Dane beams, coming over to inspect the two beasts. “They look brand new! I bet I'll have them running by end of the day.”

“Thank you so much, Dane.” Lucy smiles, “I'll leave the house open, help yourself to whatever you need. We'll be about an hour or so barring any problems. You can always text me.”

Cooper was digging around on some shelving, grabbing some PEX pipe, fitting, and a few tools. “These should fix'd problem, I will drop’em off inside before we head out.”

Dane and Lucy stand there watching Cooper walk away. Lucy’s cheeks flush as she admires the man. Dane looks at Lucy, rubbing at the side of their face. 

“So are you two,” Dane makes a gesture between Cooper and Lucy, “A thing? Or?”

Lucy feels her face go even more red, she looks away for a moment, before looking back at her friend. “Umm, no. We are friends, neighbors. Helping each other out and whatnot.”

Dane chuckles as they go over to the closer tractor, “I am not one to judge,” Lucy watches them opening up one of the tractor’s bonnet. “Has he told you what happened to his wife?” 

Tilting her head to the side Lucy raises her eyebrows. “I know he is a widower. But I haven’t pushed any further than that.”

Dane nods, already starting to fiddle with different parts, “I’d ask him about it. Especially if you’re -ah- interested.”

A pool of anxiety fills Lucy’s stomach at the words, “Yeah, I will ask him.”

“We ready to go?” Cooper asks, Lucy nearly jumping at his voice having not heard him come up behind her. 

Lucy puts on a smile, reminding Dane again to call if there is any issue before leaving with Cooper. The man moving at a good clip to the already running truck. He opens the door for Lucy, she smiles and slides into the seat. It was hard not to let her mind run over Dane’s words. She needed to ask him, or she was going to explode. She wasn't good with secrets, or not asking questions she wanted answers to.

“Umm,” Lucy fiddles with the gloves in her pocket as they roll down the gravel road. “Can I ask you a question?”

Cooper’s brows are raised as he turns to her, “Yeah, I am an open book Luc.”

Lucy licks her lips, staring at the newly leafing trees, “Can I ask what happened to your wife?” 

Oh good Lucy, just straight to the point. No tack, for this poor guy who lost his wife, whose kids are still emotionally wrecked from it, Lucy thought to herself. Wishing she'd learn more tack as an adult.

Cooper shifts, sliding in his chair a little as he looks out the window. Lucy half expected him not to answer, or tell her that it was something he didn’t want to talk about. He gripped the steering wheel tight, knuckles white against the black leather.  Eyes focus on the gravel road ahead of them as he searches for the words.

“I was outta town, helpin’ my brother-in-inlaw move cows to summer pasture. I got a call around four from Barb’s parents, sayin’ she hadn’t come to pick up the kids. They’d gone to the house and she wasn’t t’either. Barb was a champion rider, Thunder, was’er ride. Big beautiful deep black stallion, she rode’im three times a day. Mornin' after droppin’ the kids off, afternoon before the kids came home, and evenin’ after dinner.” Cooper rolled his shoulders as they drove into the field. Lucy jumping out to open the gate, climbing back in once he was through and the gate was closed.

“I went’ome, drove way faster than I shoulda. But Barb. Barb was never late, the woman was punctual to a fault. So we searched, and searched, called the police. More searchin’. We had about forty acres mostly forest’d that Barb rode. That entire area scavenged, the house turn’d upside down, the barn gone through. They picked apart everythin’.” Cooper’s voice was shaking as they drove towards the herd. His eyes are glassy, as he rubs the back of his hand over his nose. 

“They tried-” His voice shook as his eyes continued to scan the horizon. “They tried’t blame her disappearance on me.”

Lucy felt her heart clench in her chest at the words, the thought that he’d been accused of his wife’s disappearance made her stomach turn.  

“But I was in another county, my brother-in-law, thankfully, vouchin for me.” Cooper points at a fresh calf, the two working with practice ease to tag the little thing.  

Cooper sat in the truck for a moment, eyes flickering, “Then we found Thunder.” Cooper works his lip into his mouth for a moment. “He’s on the side of the highway, inna ditch. Over a hour drive away from t’farm. Looked like he had been dumped. It made no sense, wasn't any sign of how the animal had pasted either, just restarted’eir investigation into me.” 

“Cooper,” Lucy said quietly, her hand finding his hand on the bench seat and squeezing it. 

Cooper nods his head but continues, squeezing her hand back. “They wouldn’t lay off, I did everythin’ to cooperate. Then after the third time of them tossin’ my house I blew up. I gotta lawyer, I told’em not to come back t’my property.” Another tag, and Lucy feels dizzy by the foggy emotions flooding the truck as she sits back down. 

“They’d everythin’ to turn everyone against me.” Cooper blinks a few times, “My in-laws stood beside me, pushin for the police to look anywhere. But nothin’ came of it. Just no answers, nothin', just gone.” 

Lucy brushed her own tears out of her eyes, so many questions bubbling under the surface. His hands gripping the steering wheel as he parked the truck on top of the hill looking out towards the valley. 

“T’was too hard to stay, the whole town won’t look at me.” Cooper swallows, “It won’t hav’been so bad if it has just been me, but they came after the kids too. Mathias was gettin’ picked on. That was the final straw, sold everything and left. They never figured out what happen’d to Barb. I think about her every day. Wondering what I could've done different.”

The silence in the vehicle was deafening, the two of them watching the cattle move along the lower field. Lucy’s heartbreaking hearing how Cooper had lost so much with no answers. 

“Thank you for telling me,” Lucy said quietly, her hand finding his again. “I can’t imagine how hard this must have been for you. To have to leave everything the two of you built.”

Cooper nods, his fingers lacing with Lucy’s, “t’was hard, I keep waitin’ for it to get easier. For there to be answers.”  Cooper turns looking at Lucy, hazel eyes looking over her face. “I am goin’ to be forward here.” Lucy nods her head, willing to hear whatever he had to say to her. “You’ve been a bright spot for me, I look forward to this.”

He gestures at the pasture, the sun hanging in the sky, clouds drifting in. Cows mooing for their calves, as the calves chased each other through the freshly growing green grass. It was so serene, postcard-worthy her Granddad would have said. 

“I look forward to spending time with you, Lucy,” Cooper states, eyes watching her closely, as the sunrises into the truck cab.

Lucy took her shot and slid across the bench seat, Cooper looking at her eyes wide as she leans in. Her hand gently touches the side of his face, the beard stubble rubbing under her fingertips as she presses her lips against his. Lucy going to lean away, when Cooper doesn't respond, Cooper immediately moves after her. Something has snapped in the truck, Cooper easily pulling Lucy onto his lap. She pushes his hat up so she can kiss him deeper, her hands moving up into his hair as he pulls Lucy against his chest. Lucy sucking his tongue into her mouth, the taste of coffee and cigarettes flooding in. His large hands come to rest against her hips, fingers running along the top of her jeans. 

Cooper breaks the kiss, Lucy wanting to chase after it, scared that if they stop it won’t continue. The smile crossing his face has her pausing, Lucy worrying her lip into her mouth. Copper’s fingers pushing under her shirt to feel her skin. A shiver running over Lucy’s skin at the feel of his calloused warm hands. 

“This isn’t how I imagined it,” Cooper hushes, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he looks at her. 

Lucy raises her eyebrows, “Oh? What did you imagine? Would it be weird if I said I was thinking about you too?”

Cooper’s smile gets bigger, “Was going to invite ya to the spring dance. Felt a little, ahh, school crush, but I want’d a reason for-” Cooper swallows, “A reason for us t’go somewhere nice.”

She can feel her cheeks red at the statement, “I’d go with you. If you still want to go.”

Cooper leans in and kisses her gently, “I’d like that Lucy.” 

***

Dane is covered in grease, a smile on their face as the larger of the two tractors starts up. Black smoke pumps out as the machine stutters to life, Dane doing a fist pump and jig as it roars. Lucy grins as Dane hops up and takes it for a spin around the yard, before parking it just outside the barn.

“Well, that one is running well. Have to get the attachments dug out, make sure the PTO is working the way it should be.” Dane beams, walking over to Lucy who has a sandwich on a plate for them. 

“I cannot thank you enough for getting it running again Dane,” Lucy replies, “I think the smaller shed has some attachments if you’re up for taking them out.”

“Yeah, I am gonna let this one run for a bit, I think I am going to need to source a few parts for the second one,” Dane says walking into the barn, holding up the pieces of what was supposed to be a part. “I’d normally make something, but this has to be calibrated properly.”

Lucy nodded, “Get what you need, I am not too surprised there are parts that need to be replaced. Whatever is needed, got to get’em running properly.”

Dane nodded, washing her hands with the hose before grabbing the sandwich, “I will keep at it, thank you for the food by the way.”

“Of course, and make sure you invoice me for everything, k?” Lucy states, Dane nodding as they continue to eat the food. 

Lucy walks back towards the house, head-turning up when she hears a car coming down the drive. A small blue Nissan rolling down the gravel, Lucy stopping in the middle of her drive to see who the hell it was. The car stops door opening up as Max steps out; average height, with tight black hair, dark skin, and equally dark eyes.

“Max?” Lucy asks as if she isn’t looking right at the man. He stands there awkwardly, not really smiling but not frowning either. He straightens himself up and closes the door walking towards her. 

“Hey Lucy,” Max grimaces awkwardly, rubbing a hand over the tight black curls on his head, “Sorry, it’s taking so long to get here.”

Crossing her arms, Lucy narrows her eyes at him. “What are you talking about?”

Max stops a few feet away from her, arms resting against his slides, “I wanted to come see you, it’s been a few months since we spoke.”

Lucy walks forward, anger pooling in the pit of her stomach, jaw clenching as she stares down her ex. “Yeah, 'cause we broke up. You didn’t want me moving back up here. Actually, I am pretty sure you said if I left not to bother contacting you. Seemed pretty cut and dry to me.”

Max opens his mouth several times before closing it, gritting his teeth and looking away. “I didn’t think you’d actually stop contacting me. We’d been together for almost a year.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Lucy huffs, her voice shaking, their relationship hadn’t been great. They’d met at the imaging clinic, Max was shy and a little awkward but charming. They’d hit it off over lunch one day, which led to him inviting her out to go with him for dinner. He was the opposite of what she had grown up around, it had been appealing at the time. Over time the charm had faded, and the sicker her Granddad got the worse their relationship got. It ended up with Max telling her that if she moved away they were done.

“Lucy, sweety,” Max goes to move to touch her and Lucy backs away. Max’s face falling, his mouth set in a thin line.

Throat clearing has both of them turning, Cooper stood on the front porch shirtless staring down Max like he was going to blow his head off with a glare. Lucy’s mouth opening slightly at the tan skin exposed before her, trying to get herself to focus on what was happening. 

“Not sure the lady here,” Cooper states walking down the steps towards them, “Is interested in your company.”

Max looks equally as flustered as Cooper steps beside Lucy, eyes downcast as his cheeks flush.

“I just wanted some closure.” Max swallows, looking away from the two of them. “Maybe change Lucy’s mind.”

Lucy let out a sigh, moving towards Max, carefully putting a hand on his shoulder. “Max, you’re a good guy, but we both know this wasn’t going to work out. You hate the outdoors and bugs, and you’re allergic to hay.”

Cooper had taken a few steps back, well-muscled arms crossed his chest as he watched the two of them. Dane had made their way down the hill, brows furrowing at the clear standoff happening. Max’s shoulders were tight as he listened to Lucy’s words.

“Is this what you want?” Max said finally turning back to her, his eyes glazing at the words. “Like to be here? On the farm.”

A tight-lipped smile graces Lucy’s face. “Yes Max, I think you knew that though. Knew it won’t work out between us.”

Max looks at the company in front of him, his hands fiddling with the pockets of his pants. Head ducked down like he was trying to make himself smaller. He nods his head several times. 

“Well, I guess that settles that,” He twitches his nose, looking out towards the forest. “I am staying in town for a few days, just visiting family. You got my number still?”

Lucy nods her head, desperately wanting to make things right, but knowing that it wasn’t worth it. Things needed to end between them, and if he needed to drive three hours to figure that out then so be it. 

“Goodbye, Max,” Lucy said quietly, Max nodding as he got back into his car to drive out. Her stomach turning, the thought that this wouldn’t be the last time she saw him gnawing at her mind.   

Part Seven

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tag list: @toogaytofunctiondangit

*I can't believe we are 6 chapters in, this one is slow, but hold onto your hats for chapter 7!

**As always likes, comments, shares are soooo appreciated, you can find me Ao3 as well

** Want to be on the tag list let me know

[lets-try-some-writing]

Hi! I see you've been writing some stuff for Tfp humans and because I'm a Tfp human enjoyer I thought I could request something:)) (I personally cannot write so yeahh)

Fell free to do it and feel free to not do it if you don't feel like it :))

So,

How about an AU where June and Fowler (due to some relic to stuff) get aged back to when they were 16/17. They were probably wildly different than their adult versions and seeing kids interact with 80's teenagers would be fun (I personally hc Fowler & June to be in their late 30s like 39 so if Tfp is in 2011 yeah they would be teens in the 80s)

Also,here are some of my personal hcs for teenage June & Fowler which you can use but if you feel like they would be different feel free to do that too :))

Fowler was kinda the high school jock/a chad as one could call it. Also probably smoked even though he was under age lol. Probably a rock fan who plays the guitar to impress girls lol

As for June,I see her to be a rebel who wanted to be in a biker gang/generally into motorcycles. Probably like Miko but more reserved :)).

Also have my teenage Fowler doodle as an add on cause it's relevant

Sorry that the ask is so long btw I feel strongly about tfp humans 😭

Feel free to take anything/nothing into consideration for the main scenario :))

EXCELLENT ART!!! SORRY THIS TOOK TEN BILLION YEARS TO GET TO!!!

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

Relics are not known to mess with age. The few that have such properties do little to harm a mech aside from possibly get rid of a beloved mod or engraving. As such, the team left one of their various collected relics just... laying on Ratchet's workbench. It wasn't particularly dangerous, and Optimus's memories of the archives stated that it had slight rejuvenation properties. That was all. It was essentially a small healing device meant to be applied to minor wounds.

But of course, anything minor to Cybertronians tends to be definitively less so to humans.

June and Fowler were left to keep a vague eye on the relic while the team performed other tasks. They chatted and overall relaxed, but at some point, Fowler noticed the relic was a little too close to the edge of the table for his liking. Sure the thing was almost as big as he was, but in his mind, with the help of June, they could push it back onto the table proper and rest easy knowing there would be no surprise clank to startle them or upset Ratchet. Their attempt to be helpful very quickly ended with a flash of light, every living being in the base hurrying toward two sets of screams, and gasps of horror all around.

June and Fowler were younger, WAY younger. Upon analysis, both were in their late teens biologically. Ratchet and Optimus argued over what to do, and upon seeing the relic, the overall consensus was that the two rejuvenated humans would have to remain at base until Ratchet could figure out a way to reverse the effects. It was not ideal, but a few calls later, things were organized enough. The military would cover for the loss of both Agent Fowler and June for the time being, and the team would get to work.

The team got busy and went about their work and June and Fowler stayed put... mostly. Despite having memories and experiences to match their adult selves, both teens had opinions and feelings regarding things. All three of the kids collectively decided they did not in fact enjoy these younger versions of the adults they knew within... about two minutes.

Fowler was a piece of work. He paraded around like he was in charge, but had the unfortunate habit of shoving Jack around for the kick of it. He didn't mean it maliciously, but the constant shoving did get on nerves. It did not help that Fowler used his spare time to work out now that his back was not murdering him every two steps. A definitive six pack most certainly did not endear him to Jack with his twiggy body. Fowler tried to get along with them by playing the adult, but being young again put a certain spring in his step and before long, he was off to cause problems. Lifting weights and wearing absolutely cringe worthy headbands, Fowler took off gleefully. The children avoided him like the plague, especially when he tried to rope them into his terrible 80s workout video exercise routine.

June was arguably worse in that while she wasn't outright cringy, she did have a few... habits. Her haircut was enough for even Miko to look away in shame. June's choice of clothing prompted three in sync face palms. And to add to it, she was absolutely determined to continue being the adult in the room even upon immediately getting distracted with video games and Fowler himself. Her use of 80s slang and her determination to ignore the rules just enough to be annoying quickly got on the nerves of everyone, especially the kids. Don't touch that? Oh she didn't touch it, she just got really REALLY close to it while making direct eye contact. Don't bother Ratchet? Well guess what, Ratchet gets a few dozen questions anyway.

Both were menaces to society just by existing. The team personally didn't mind all that much. What difference did personality shifts in small squishies mean to them? However even Bumblebee cringed internally as he watched the various scenes with the duo play out. Arcee for her part got several pleas from June to let her try Arcee's alt mode. Fowler may or may not have also tried to get Bulkhead to let him use the forklift to play lob ball, kind of.

Chaotic monsters all around.

Jack could do nothing but pray for the team to work quickly for the sake of his sanity. Miko is enough trouble on her own.

[anonymousewrites]

Burden of Truth (Book 1) Chapter Two

Father Figure! Marc Spector x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Steven Grant x Teen! Reader

Mother Figure! Layla El-Faouly x Teen! Reader

Chapter Two: In the Flat

Summary: (Y/N) goes to Steven Grant's flat in search of the scarab.

            “You must retrieve the scarab.”

            Ma’at’s voice spoke directly into (Y/N)’s head as they sat on the bus out of the alps. (Y/N) pulled their phone and headphones out of their pocket. They slipped the earbuds in and pretended to be on a call.

            “Harrow doesn’t have it. Marc does,” said (Y/N).

            “Marc?”

            “Khonshu’s Avatar.”

            “I do not trust Khonshu to keep the scarab protected.”

            “I can’t fight his Avatar for it.” That wouldn’t end well for (Y/N) at all, even if Marc claimed not to hurt kids.

            “No,” Ma’at agreed. “But Harrow knows Khonshu and his avatar. The scarab isn’t safe there.”

            That was true. That meant Harrow could track Marc or Steven down and put the scarab in danger.

            “Right,” said (Y/N), furrowing their brow.

            They couldn’t let Harrow get to Ammit. They couldn’t let him harm people. They couldn’t let him find the scarab.

            They opened their phone and went to the search bar. Sorry, Steven Grant of the gift shop. I need to figure out where you live.

l

            (Y/N) liked London roofs. They were very easy to sneak around on. (Y/N) was using that precise feature when they arrived at Steven Grant’s apartment. The poor, oblivious man left the window unlocked. (Y/N) opened it easily and slipped inside.

            The entire room was covered in books—lots of Egyptian mythology, coincidentally—and filled with places to hide things. The moment before they could start looking, though, the lock clicked.

            Shit.

            (Y/N) darted to the side and dove under a table. Most of the sides were blocked by various knickknacks and stacks of books, so, hopefully, this would keep them hidden for as long as possible.

            “She shouldn’t be here.”

            (Y/N) frowned when they heard Marc’s voice. They peered out from between the books and saw a girl and Steven? Marc? No, it was Steven. The way he glanced at his reflection in the aquarium glass was too evident.

            Oh.

            Just like (Y/N) could hear the truth of the deities walking among the people of Earth, it seemed they could hear the truth of Steven and Marc’s mind. Weird, certainly, but (Y/N) was the avatar of the goddess of truth. Half the population of Earth had been wiped out for five years before being returned. This was pretty minor in the grand scale of things.

            “Get her out of here, Steven. You’re way out of your depth,” said Marc.

  ��         “Uh, is this your flat, Marc?” said the woman.

            “Um, I’m Steven,” said Steven.

            “Are you living here with someone else?” asked the woman, staring at the cuffs on the bed.

            “No, no, no,” said Steven.

            “Okay, so you guys are talking again?” said the woman.

            Steven nodded, clearly having no idea what he was talking about.

            The woman picked up a book. “Marceline Desbordes-Valmore?”

            “Yep,” said Steven. He cleared his throat and spoke one of the poems in French. “I am sad, I want my light put out.”

            “Summers in your absence are as dark as a room,” finished the woman and Steven together.

            This is extremely awkward and weird, thought (Y/N), really wishing they knew where the scarab was so they could take it and leave.

            “She’s my favorite poet,” said Steven.

            “Um, no, she’s my favorite,” said the woman, frowning.

            And they’re both being honest, thought (Y/N)

            “That’s mental,” said Steven.

            The woman frowned and crossed to the desk (Y/N) was hiding under.

            Shit, shit, shit.

            “So you’re learning French and hieroglyphics?” said the woman.

            “Yeah, well, that’s not that impressive, really,” said Steven. “It’s not like hieroglyphs are a whole language. It’s more like an—”

            “An alphabet,” finished the woman.

            “Yeah, and well, you still have to know ancient Egyptian to read it,” said Steven.

            “Sure,” said the woman, humoring him but clearly irritated.

            (Y/N) was really, really not enjoying this.

            “For example, like this one here, right?” said Steven.

            “Funeral rites,” said the woman.

            “Well, someone knows their unilaterals. You,” said Steven, attempting to tease and stumbling over it terribly. “That’s amazing.”

            “Yeah…” The woman stared at Steven.

            “Sorry, I didn’t mean that in a creepy way,” said Steven.

            “No, I’m sorry. I’m not buying this, Marc,” said the woman. “Use whatever accent you want. Yeah. Let’s just get this over with.” She strolled over to the duffel bag and backpack they’d put down. “You sent these papers, but you never signed them.”

            (Y/N) peeked out from beneath the desk. The backpack is hers—the woman was going through it with a sense of ownership—so that duffel bag… (Y/N) looked at it. A part of them—their gut, almost never wrong—told them it was Marc’s. The woman thinking Steven was Marc, knowing him, and bringing him back to his (Steven’s) flat supported that. Which means Marc probably hid the scarab in there.

            “Did I? Uh…” Steven trailed off as he looked at the papers.

            “This is what you wanted,” said the woman. “After everything, you told me that we needed to move on.”

            I think Steven is dealing with Marc’s marital issues…

            “Divorce…?” said Steven.

            “Yeah, we doing this or not?” said the woman.

            “I would never divorce you,” said Steven.

            Yeah, but you aren’t Marc, thought (Y/N). They pushed that out of their mind and focused. They needed to get over to the duffel bag.

            Luckily, marital disputes made for good distractions, so while the woman and Steven spoke, (Y/N) moved from their hiding spot to behind the large bookcase.

            “Marc, what are you doing?” said the woman, sighing tiredly.

            “Look, you seem absolutely lovely,” said Steven.

            (Y/N) looked between them and the duffel bag. So close.

            “This Marc, on the other hand, is a right twit. Yeah?” said Steven.

            Marc scoffed in the mirror.

            Damn, he’s going to see me. (Y/N) frowned. But unless he has control of the body, Steeven isn’t that much of a threat. The woman is an unknown, but if I’m fast enough, I’ll be on the roofs in a moment.

            Steven took a step back and sighed. “I don’t know how to explain what’s been happening.”

            “Steven,” said Marc in warning.

            He’s also distracted, realized (Y/N).

            They felt bad taking advantage of emotional distress—they’re felt enough of it themself—but they needed the scarab so that Harrow wouldn’t know where to find it.

            “I don’t expect you to believe me,” said Steven, basically pacing.

            “Steven, listen to me,” said Marc.

            “I honestly don’t really believe myself,” said Steven.

            (Y/N) slipped towards the table.

            “All I can do is try to show you what I found.”

            “Steven, don’t, listen to me,” begged Marc.

            “I found a bag of stuff,” said Steven.

            “Don’t you dare. You’re gonna get her killed, you hear me?” said Marc.

            “What’s in it?” said the woman.

            “Don’t say anything,” said Marc.

            Steven couldn’t even look back at the woman, he was so nervous.

            “If you show Layla that scarab, then you’re when they come after her,” said Marc.

            “What’s in it?” repeated Layla.

            “Nothing,” said Steven, keeping his face turned from her.

            “I’ll just look for myself.”

            “Wait, no,” said Steven, panicked, and he turned to grab Layla as she turned to head towards the bag.

            Steven froze. Layla froze. (Y/N) froze.

            “…Hi.” (Y/N) held the scarab tightly.

            “You?!” said Steven, eyes wide.

            “You!” said Marc.

            “Who?” said Layla.

            “Y-You were there—in the village! You were in the van,” said Steven

            “Is that the scarab pointing to Ammit’s ushabti?” said Layla, narrowing her eyes.

            “Yes,” said (Y/N), moving towards the window slowly.

            “Steven, you can’t let them take that. I have to keep it safe,” said Marc.

            (Y/N) glanced at him, but Layla moved between them and the window before anything else could happen.

            “Marc and I fought side-by-side for that,” said Layla. “I’m not letting you take it, even if he’s trying to do a whole one-man-show thing and keep it to himself.”

            (Y/N) liked her spirit, but they had a job to do. “Sorry, but I need to keep this safe, and I don’t think it is with…Marc.”

            The woman glanced at Steven.

            “I don’t want it!” he said, raising his hands. He was exhausted with it all. “I don’t want it! I swear. Either one of you can have it! I am not Marc Spector, and I want nothing to do with this! I’m just Steven Grant, and I used to work in a gift shop. All I want to is to get help because I’m in trouble.”

            (Y/N) felt bad for him. Unlike Marc, he had clearly not been previously aware of the alter, and discovering that and all of the Egyptian-deity stuff was a lot.

            “…Fine,” said Layla. “I believe you.” She looked at (Y/N). “But I’m sorry, I can’t let you walk away, either. I need to know it’s safe.”

            “We all want the same thing,” said (Y/N), holding the scarab closer. “But I—I have a duty to justice. I can’t leave this here.”

            “Steven, take it from them, just take it, it’s dangerous, and Harrow will come and become their problem as well as mine,” said Marc.

            A knock sounded at the door.

            Everyone fell silent and stared at it.

            “Steven Grant? Can we have a word?” said a woman’s voice.

            “See? They’ve come for me,” said Steven.

            “Why?” said Layla.

            “I vandalized the toilet…” said Steven.

            The knocking continued.

            Steven cleared his throat. “Yeah, just a minute.” He crept towards it and opened it a crack. “Yeah?”

            “DC Fitzgerald and DC Kennedy here,” said the woman, showing her ID.

            Truth. Even though (Y/N) was certain they were telling the truth, they took a wary step away from the door. They still didn’t trust the scenario. This felt too much like Harrow interceding with his many connections.

            “Yeah, one second.”

            Layla ran for the window, and (Y/N) went with her after slipping the scarab into their pocket.

            “Yeah, sorry, I’m having a bit of a day,” said Steven.

            “Mind if we come in, Mr. Grant?” Kennedy didn’t wait for an answer. “Appreciate it.” She pushed in.

            (Y/N) didn’t have a chance to escape with Layla and was left in Kennedy and Fitzgerald’s lines of sight.

            Oh, no.

            For the first time in their life, (Y/N) was caught.

Taglist:

@jaytheaceenby

@severussimp

@dmitrytherat

@slytherinroyalty16

@grippleback-galaxy

@alexpangender

@thewittyfanficreader

@aew-kun-age-regression

@oscarissac2099

@amberforest08

@kyalov

@yyourmotherr

[clannfearrunt]

A slightly edited writeup stitched together from discord ramblings, about Rill vs his adoptive families. Lol. It’s long

Fathom and Mariana are an international and interracial couple, and they’re the same morph*. There are actual layers of bigotry they’ve faced while trying to get married. However, they are also very much pampered kids from generationally wealthy families. They do consider themselves very socially progressive, but this is true only relative to their immediate social circles. They have this Image of themselves as Good People and don’t have the self-awareness to recognize and unlearn the bigotry they do very much still hold, mainly towards other species. This has been a constant source of headache for Rill, who has to live with them and interact with their families.

(*Fish have a system of distinct “morphs” in addition to sex that informs the gender politics of their various cultures. The two morphs are referred to as drakes and hens in this language. I swear I will get into details on a different post. The particular ways the intersection of sex and morph is handled varies a lot by culture, but across most of them people are expected to be attracted to the opposite sex and morph. Relationships between the same morph can face more scrutiny than same sex ones in many places, as morphs are much easier to determine than sex at a glance.)

The big concession the couple made in order to gain their family’s approval was that they wouldn’t have biological children. So of course they went to adopt. But. The reaction of the extended family towards Fathom and Mariana's adoption of Rill, an Inkling, was mostly confusion. Like, most of them didn't exactly disapprove, but were definitely like, "? what the fuck?? why".

Rill himself consistently gets the impression that they chose to adopt him to reinforce their image of being Good Progressive People. When he was younger he definitely got paraded around at social events and occasionally ended up on gossip publications, and he only recently managed to weasel out of ending up on his parents’ social media posts all of the time. He’s a goddamn publicity stunt. It’s sickening. Unlike what Rill believes, it’s not an intentional Thing on his parents’ minds though. It’s definitely there, but it’s subconscious. Anyways.

The Nykur family initially reacted to Rill with an air of condescending curiosity; their view of Inklings is very colored by longstanding stereotypes of them being simple, frivolous, and lazy, and they had met very few Inklings in person to remotely challenge this view. They've warmed up quite a bit to Rill as he quickly adapted and showed himself to be a bright, well-spoken young man. They mildly pity him for not being able to speak their mother tongue (it is physiologically very difficult for Inklings), but he can respond in either an extremely restrictive selection of words he can manage to pronounce, Peixe (a more globally common Fish Language), or in writing, which is just absolutely phenomenal from an Inkling wowww way to go boy! Even now that they’ve grown to mostly like him, though, Rill consistently gets the vibe of being treated more like a talking animal than a family member, let alone a person.

Mariana's family, the Poecilias, were a little bit more familiar with Inklings, as her country’s warm and humid climate allowed a thriving minority population of Inkfish to establish itself there in the past century or so. They were expecting a boisterous, flamboyantly outgoing boy as per local stereotypes but have been pleasantly surprised by Rill's more reserved and shy demeanor. Some of them might like him a little more than they do Mariana lol, she's definitely the problem child of the family. They don't visit this side of the family as much due to the slightly strained relation Mariana has with them, but they do tell her to bring Rill when she does. Rill... doesn’t dislike them as vehemently as he does the Nykurs, but he finds them very draining to deal with regardless. He’s mostly kind of wearily disinterested in them for now.

The extended Nykur family has been more overtly shit towards Rill. Wether it’s because they’re “more” bigoted towards Inklings or if it’s just that they’ve had more opportunities to show themselves he doesn’t know, but it doesn’t really matter. They seem to be under the mistaken impression that the reason Inklings have a hard time with a bulk of their language is because it falls outside of their range of hearing, and they’ve said some heinous shit in earshot. Rill doesn’t... really know what the best course of action is for him here, so he’s been just been quietly seething. When he visits them he mostly just tries his best to stick close to his parents or Nobils, the butler, and not end up alone with the rest of the family. In all fairness I don’t think most of them would intentionally hurt him, but Rill doesn’t really want to find out.

TO Fathom’s credit also I do think he has told off his family over the really overt shit. He's not malicious, he's just clueless (if occasionally dangerously so), and there is a threshold where it's obvious enough that he's gonna know it's Getting Bad. And he does, technically, actually like his son. So Fathom will intervene, but most of the time it's not like. Serious/stern enough. It's very "hey let's not talk politics at the dinner table"-core... You know that vibe of "ohh don't get so mad at your horrifically racist/queerphobic/insert bigotry here uncle it's thanksgiving dinnerrrr let's not ruin thanksgiving dinner 🥺”. Rill gets a lot of this. He hates Fathom so much. Defend him or don’t, make up your goddamn mind.

Rill is genuinely terrified that if he acts out too much he'd just be unceremoniously disowned. It's much less of a hassle for his "family" to distance themselves from him than it would have been if he was their biological child, or even at least the same species. If this happens he has literally no one else to turn to for support. This fear is a central force shaping his Behaviors. I do think it's a significant bit less likely than he's convinced himself it is? Like, his parents are probably not actually going to drop him like a hot potato the moment he even slightly talks back at them. He's not wrong that they could, and on some level it's not impossible that they would, but it is more unlikely than he's convinced himself it is. With a lot of things I have to have this preface of like. Yes Rill's fears are very much rooted in reality. But he's also very much prone to paranoia and blowing up the risk factors of some things. Important to remember both things are true.

Nobils, the butler, is definitely the main thing keeping Rill from imploding prior to meeting Thresher. When Rill was adopted, he saw The Situation and quickly stepped up as his actual main caretaker. Unlike his employers, Nobils was firmly aware of the gaps in his knowledge regarding Inklings and how to care for them, and worked very hard to fill those gaps and give Rill the best physical and emotional care possible. Rill was at one point extremely close to him, as he was the only safe adult in his life. Nobils also helped raise Fathom, so his failure to be a good father to Rill has been a source of deep sadness and frustration. Unlike an actual parent/child relationship, he's very limited in his ability to confront Fathom, since he's his employer.

Nobils cares deeply for Rill, and sees him as something fairly close to a grandchild. His biggest regret was reminding Rill that he was a well compensated employee in a bid to reassure him that he wasn't being a burden to him. This would have been fine for someone like Fathom, but Rill took it very poorly. He’s retreated into himself since then. Rill puts up an awkward pretense of professionalism between them now that Nobils can clearly see hurts him very deeply... But he recognizes he has no idea how to repair his trust, and has resigned himself to supporting Rill as best as he can while respecting this distance.

Rill does still love Nobils deeply, but he's been trying very hard not to. The realization that Nobils is a servant, doing a job came way after he had grown heavily emotionally reliant on him. It was devastating and embarrassing. Rill wasn't quite old enough or idk. Stable enough? to process that "Nobils is here because it is his job" and "Nobils genuinely loves and cares about him" can be true at the same time. Nowadays this is kind of stewing in the back of his mind but he's too stubborn/scared/mysterious set of emotions to allow himself to admit that it's true. There's a complex and deep well of bitterness and longing. He's never going to forgive Nobils for... being an employee? But if he ever quits he'll never forgive him for that either. He's starved for affection, as much as he'll never admit it, and he's infinitely bitter that any he receives from Nobils is irreversibly tainted in his eyes by their financial ties. Rill is also Not Acknowledging how old this guy is. We are not going to think about the passage of time and mortality or anything. Don't worry about it. Nobils will live forever 👍 It’s his job. He’s very good at his job. He would never leave him.

Nobils is so relieved to see Rill finally hanging out with someone his age he seems to actually like (Thresher). Even if he appears to also be imploding about it. This is an improvement. Can we get this boy a support structure! Can anyone help his boy. Please

[atiny-for-life]

Ateez's Full Storyline Explained - Part 21

Masterlist

Before we begin...

I'd like to shout out @xuseokgyu's gifset on the MATZ MV since I adore her analysis and I really do think it might just be the real-life message they meant to portray. It was also one of the contributing reasons for my initial belief that the unit MVs were unrelated to the storyline.

MATZ (A-World)

Initially, due to the announcement that this takes place in the A-World, I was going to propose the theory that this MV takes place prior to Fever Part 1 - a flashback to Hongjoong and Seonghwa performing as a rap duo before they met Yunho and the rest and became Ateez, but I just couldn't figure out how all the robed cult-like people fit into this narrative... and then it dawned on me:

Halazia.

We saw the bluebird at the end of Crazy Form and the shattered Cromer which means the Halazia-squad has been traveling between Worlds and may likely have ended up in the A-World along the way.

I'm not gonna lie: I first thought of this because of Hongjoong's fluffy hat which reminded me of the one he wore in Halazia but once I had it in my brain, I couldn't help but notice various other similarities.

The abandoned building?

Reminiscent of the abandoned mall we grew all too familiar with during that funky little livestream before the release of Halazia.

All the chains randomly hanging from the ceiling?

Reminiscent of the ones they were dragging around in Halazia to chain up the orb.

All the people in robes willingly following them around to commit random crimes like robbing a small store?

Their version of the Black Pirates, aka the robed folks we already saw in Halazia.

Bro, they even brought back the purple lighting and specifically made fun of me personally because I'm too dumb to figure out the meaning behind these numbers.

(I'm kidding, of course, but it really isn't my fault I'm a dumbass.)

All this to say: these two are neither Hongjoong and Seonghwa from Ateez, nor the Black Pirates we've come to know and love, but rather the two we've only met briefly during one of the sickest goddamn MVs I've ever seen while they were performing the most spiritually and spacially transcendent songs I've ever head like holy shit, Halazia still slaps so fucking hard, how did they even come up with this.

Anywho - with this in mind, we can watch the video again and gather hints as to what they're up to in the A-World (besides committing minor felonies here and there).

We begin as follows:

They've ordered one of their people to fasten a tracker to the underside of a black car prior to their arrival on the scene.

Several black-cloaked figures then enter the car and drive away before we cut to the title card.

Matz exit the building and get into the car which is now no longer occupied by at least the two people in the front seats which means there's a small timeskip where we don't know what happened with the car's occupants. I'll get back to this in a moment.

We now see Matz take the front seats right before they get black bags pulled over their heads from the people hidden in the backseat. Clearly, they're not very surprised by this. They knew it would happen. It's part of the plan.

They get chained up and stuffed in the back and taken to a secondary location. (Take note of the blue-and-earthtone palette we've last seen in Halazia.)

Keep in mind that this is a vehicle their own people are able to track. This tells me it's not just the creeps who are after Matz - Matz are also after these creeps. Now, who would Matz have beef with in the A-World, a world they've never been to before?

That's right: Henry Jo, the leader of Skienslavar, aka A-World's Z whose straight up evilness has led to the brainwashing and mass-murder of a huge amount of people in Z-World and, most likely, also their own world (which we saw go up in smoke in Halazia).

Matz are currently on a mission to take down A-World's Skiensalvar before they can do as much damage as they did back in their own world. And it's this mission that then also leads them, and likely also the rest of their members, to Z-World at the end of Crazy Form.

Henry Jo last saw Ateez at the museum when they were trying to steal the Cromer to save Yeosang in the Fever Epilogue Diary Entries - hell, he even tried to straight up stab Wooyoung to get his hands on that thing. Naturally, he then also wouldn't shy away from kidnapping any of them to get the current location of the Cromer out of them.

This explains why they're tied to a chair and surrounded by cultists from all angles.

Right after this shot, we get to see yet another group with black hoods march up into the same building. However, unlike the ankle-length robes of the cultists, they're dressed in black pants and hoodies, leaning more toward techwear

They're the Black Pirates who've been tracking the black car they tagged at the beginning of the MV and they're here to free their two kidnapped leaders

Specifically, the Black Pirates head out the moment Seonghwa makes eye contact with one of the cultist's camera lenses, which I can only assume means that this messed-up cult is livestreaming their kidnapping of two young men in their mid-twenties

Likely because they're hoping either of them will say something that will reaffirm the cult's beliefs and thus validate them in the eyes of whatever audience they're trying to reach

Right after this moment, Matz break the chains binding their wrists and jump up from their chairs

We can then see them perform in the same location with some of the other Black Pirates - thus also utilizing the livestreaming equipment that was already set up to, presumably, try to undo whatever harm the preachings of the cult may have done to the current viewership

After leaving the area, Matz seem to teleport out of the premises which is indicated by a negative frame, followed by some skipped frames to create a nice flowy movement out of frame to the right that feels unnatural but seamless

Right after, we get another transitional frame from Matz in the outfits they've been wearing all along to just Seonghwa in a more fancy gold and fur get up

Along the way, we also get to see Matz run through an empty parking garage while some of the other Black Pirates are slowly wandering through a little music store

They're simply looking at all the CDs in the shelves - something they've never seen before after they've been denied access to music their entire lives back in their world

And then Matz arrive and start tearing up the place

But why? I think it might just be in their character

When we saw them in Halazia, they were burning the Black Pirates' uniforms and now we see them tearing up a store selling the music they themselves use as a form of rebellion

Like I theorized back with Halazia: I think they might be struggling with the legacy left behind by the Black Pirates; they might feel angry and abandoned and are now pissed off that, in this world, people have shelves upon shelves full of music while they themselves were denied any form of expression for at least a significant chunk of their lives

And now, they had to come in from another world to stop the same fate from happening to them and the people there will never know how much they did for them

We already know how different Ateez are from their Z-World counterparts - due to them growing up in A-World, they're more calculated, less provocative, less extreme (Inception vs Thanxx, Guerrilla vs Crazy Form)

Halazia-World's Ateez thus seem to be an even more extreme version of Z-World's Ateez - more volatile, maybe even more aggressive, certainly less open to making new friends from what we've seen so far

This is certainly also highlighted when we listen to the newscaster reporting on a case of two men who mysteriously disappeared after committing arson

Those two little shits legit set a fire and teleported out of there to not get caught - y'all, after all that fire in Halazia, I legit think these dudes are just serial arsonists hiding behind the guise of a revolutionary cause

In conclusion: I'm fairly confident in my theory and I think we'll be seeing these crazy guys again very soon; be that with another single or the next Korean mini or full album (though I would also very much appreciate a Japanese comeback tied into the main storyline - they're always underappreciated with any group, it seems).

[princess-of-the-corner]

So I have more Ojiro thoughts! You can take or leave whatever, just thought I’d share!

So, the last thing I shared was my and Mimi’s version of his backstory, which is that he was raised mostly by his grandparents, with assistance from an aunt and uncle, cause his mom just dropped him off one day and didn’t come back. The grandparents are his primary guardians, cause the aunt travels a lot for work, and the uncle is married with 8 kids, so while they were both willing to take him, and are very involved, they thought the grandparents would give him a more stable childhood. Uncle (name TBD), runs a martial arts dojo with his wife, and was where Ojiro spent a lot of his childhood. Aunt works for some kind of finance company, and spends at least a week every month or so travelling. Mom is flighty, likes living fast and fancy, and hasn’t tried to contact any of them since she dropped Ojiro off at age 5. None of them know who Ojiro’s dad is, and the grandparents in particular are very angry over this.

just be aware, all new Info assumes the above is, for lack of a better phrase, canon, so bear that in mind.

Most of Ojiro’s family (baring one or two members, if anyone wants to play around) has a Quirk called “Stubborn”, or at least a variation. It basically lets the user “plant” themselves in a solid stance, and they promptly become completely immovable. They cannot be shoved, pushed, or otherwise forced to move from their chosen spot. They even have some enhanced durability, making hurting them while they do this EXTREMELY hard. This Quirk was inherited solely through the grandfather.

Mom is called (tentatively) Masumi. Her Quirk is not related to Ojiro’s at all, in fact, she’s the only kid who got Grans Quirk, called “Bounce”. It’s A combination of kinetic force manipulation and durability, basically allowing Masumi to jump extremely high, control the force of her descent, and allow her to “bounce” off things instead of smashing into the ground. She has spent the past decade or so travelling the world, visiting various places, “having adventures”. However, she Was funding most of this through gambling, and while she is actually VERY good at it, a combination of factors has put her in an awkward situation. This when she sees Ojiro competing in the UA Sports Festival on TV, and decides NOW is the time to go see her kid that “she missed SOOOOOO much!" 

(Yeah, everyone is side-eyeing her right now)

Ojiro’s dad (name TBD) is actually a fairly good sidekick/minor hero of a hero agency near where Ojiro grew up. Hero Name Scorpio, his Quirk "Scorpion Tail” literally gives him a tail (similar to Ojiro’s), with a scorpion-like stinger on the end. The stinger injects a non-fatal venom that can cause temporary paralysis. The guy had a one-night stand with Masumi years ago, and has no idea she got pregnant or had his kid. He is now married with 2 kids of his own, a third on the way, and if/when he finds out about Ojiro, he’s going to be devastated that a) he didn’t know about him, b) that Masumi never told him, c) that he’s missed so much of Ojiro’s life, and D) will also be kicking himself, because given he lives and works in the same town Ojiro grew up in, he’s absolutely seen the kid before and never realized the kid looks like him (buddy, while I headcanon Ojiro grew up in the sort of small town “everyone knows everyone” kind of place, I doubt it was THAT small, I’m putting a successful hero agency there).

The way I see this working, Masumi starts calling up her sister (she correctly assumes her brother or parents will be more willing to yell at her for dumping Ojiro off and leaving), saying she wants to reconnect. Auntie is sceptical, but at least willing to hear her sister out, so they meet up a few times, and Auntie acts as a bit of a go between to the rest of the family. The others are suspicious of the fact that Masumi’s choosing NOW to start trying to get back in contact - they’ve probably had a bit of sucking up from neighbours and slightly more distant family members, who saw Ojiro compete - but eventually decide it’s up to Ojiro if he wants to see his mom. Ojiro himself is … mixed. The big thing is, he doesn’t actually remember his mom super well, so while he kind of WANTS to see her again, most of his impressions of the woman were formed from listening to his uncle, aunt, and grandparents disparage her for “abandoning” him (not to his face, they tried not to do that, but he overheard plenty of conversations he wasn’t supposed to). So, Ojiro decides “k, I’ll agree to see you if you tell us who my dad is”. Like, he honestly expects her to NOT KNOW, he’s figured he was a one-night stand baby, but the one thing his grandparents are really mad about, the thing they HAVE insulted her for infront of him, was not saying who Ojiro’s dad is. He figures, solve a mystery, hopefully make the eventual meeting less awkward (like, he doesn’t BLAME her or think less of her if he was a one-night stand baby. No judgement on that front, but he knows his grandparents will be angry about him wanting to meet her anyway, might as well see if he can ease the tension a little). The fact she can give them a NAME, a PICTURE, a freaking PHONE NUMBER, the fact that Ojiro’s PASSED HIM IN THE STREET, had this guy on a POSTER IN HIS ROOM, makes him blue screen a little.

(How the actual meeting with his mom goes is up in the air at the moment. The meeting with Scorpio will be a mess of feelings, but mostly positive, and Ojiro’s new half siblings are going to think he’s impossibly cool. Scorpio’s wife will think Ojiro is lovely, and will Have to restrain herself from trying to parent him, she has to keep reminding herself he isn’t TECHNICALLY her kid, he has guardians. Scorpio, his wife and kids are all quickly going to get adopted by the Ojiro’s as a whole, it will be REALLY chaotic, between them they’ll end up with 12 kids [Ojiro, his eight cousins, his two current half sibs, the third one on the way] and then the Aunt finally settles down and starts planning to adopt-)

Mimi and I also posit this could all potentially happen in 1-A’s second year, or at least after the “war”, to give everyone more time to breathe, and so there aren’t too many story lines being juggled.

Other thought! Possible Kendou/Ojiro ship beginning!

Because literally EVERY OTHER KID in 1-A seems to be involved in their own kind of tv drama, Mimi and I want to give at least ONE of them an easy high school romance, so Kendou and Ojiro are literally the most bland, cliche romance compared to their peers. They started chatting after a few shared classes, found out both of them come from families of martial artists, and decided to spar together. They start doing it regularly, eventually develop feelings, and Ojiro asks Kendou out after one of their spars. She says yes, they go out for a movie and milkshakes, and proceed to be the calmest, most stable couple for the rest of high school. They get married two years after graduating, and eventually have four kids (one was unplanned) who all have variations of tail Quirk, mixed with Kendou’s. One kid could size-change as a whole, ala Mount Lady, but probably control which size they are easier (has more settings than “normal” and “giant”). Another kid has multiple tails, which can stretch to at least a dozen feet long or more (give'em nine tails, becomes a hero called Kitsune). When Ojiro and Kendou retire, they’ll probably take over their families dojos, end up merging them, maybe start a chain or something.

Thoughts, feelings, opinions?

-

I love ALL OF THIS and I need to slam dunk it into CC right now lmao.

Also

Ojiro 🤝 Izuku

“parent who abandoned me showing back up because they think they can use me after seeing me on the Sports Festival(also no idea who dad is but hey we’re gonna find that out eventually and oh boy is it someone more important than ‘some rando’!’).

[ayayabaroque]

Tears, Laughter, Sorrow.

corny, pero wla ako mapost e wla akong no choice last march pa 'to sa drafts CW: Angst? mostly none, corny writing, i hate writing esp since i cant think of anything good/this is why i dont post anymore ffs Spoilers for Lantern Rite '23, not sure if i mention anything but yk its just to be safe A/N: i love school, but i went from rank 1 to rank 3 and i absolutely hate everything and everyone im going to cry sorry for not posting anything recently(and ever), and as usual, English isn't my first language, so please don't have any high hopes for this piece. I might go back to completing the Slowly series but im not feeling well since i last went on here to write a serious fic Read utc!

*:･ﾟ✧ Zhongli *:･ﾟ✧ "Would you live to see Liyue's downfall, or always relive the one most painful moment you have felt in your lifetime?" You pause, thinking on an answer to your friend's question. "The latter. Liyue's downfall won't happen for another thousand years, I doubt that any of you would be attending my funeral any time soon." Your friend tears up at the thought. "Right... yeah probably right." "I'm kidding of course! An endless time loop would keep me stressed, I'd rather have you by my side." ... "I'm... relieved? Hey listen, it's getting late, you should be getting home. I'll see you tomorrow." It was unlikely for your friend to suggest to leave this early, but you don't mind, as long as you see them again tomorrow. Then again, it was too tiring to walk home just right now, maybe you could walk around the harbor, after all, you and your friend have been playing by the docks all day, without anything better to do. "I should be getting home back to Zhongli." you mutter. Although cold, the air in Liyue would always smell of various floral scents, specifically the Glaze Lily. You hated Glaze Lilies. There wasn't one word in the dictionary that could describe how much you loathe these cyan-petal, night-blooming lilies as much as you possibly could. Well, truth be told, you hated the person Zhongli associates with these blooms, and it drives you insane. Guizhong, Zhongli's late friend before the Archon War, used to be so close to him. He would return late from his ventures with his friend in tow that he forgets to come home to you every single time. You couldn't really argue with the reasoning he has, since he is more of your superior rather than a lover. It's been so long since he spent time with you without reminiscing about Guizhong, probably a little over your 429th birthday. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention you were old? The more Zhongli leaves you to mourn Guizhong's day of death on your day of birth, you resort to laughter every time he comes home instead. The false joy of seeing him return home after a mournful day which he marks Guizhong's passing, your laughter behind the façade you show for your lover. "How's Guizhong been? Any response yet?" you muse. "I prefer you not adding salt to my wound." "Oh yeah, you guys ended on rather good terms, it would be a shame if I were to slander her in front of her good friend." The statement always seems to make Zhongli seethe with fury, and it looks like he's had enough of your insults and remarks. "A true shame you did not get to know her, or were you busy burning away your lifetime serving false gods?" "You know well better than to bring my past stature into this conversation." It pains you to think about your past, when your parents sold you off to a minor god for wealth, leaving you to rot in the god's hands. "I'm tired, I do not wish to make this into a heated argument. Go to bed." ... "I honestly wish it was you instead of Guizhong, I miss her dearly." That was what made this memory painful, it was what made you cry in the eve, and sob in the morn. In the end, when you were asked the same question years ago, immortality seemed like a dream, now turned into a living nightmare. You only wish to awake from this horrible dream, again, and again, and again. "So... Would you live to see Liyue's downfall, or always relive the one most painful moment you have felt in your lifetime?" The question that would mark another day of the loop, spent in misery and sorrow. The days you've spent celebrating your birth over, and over again. "Happy 7,329th birthday, to me."

[gyaruogutz]

👀 i'd be curious... (about your last post)

You’re in luck , I love talking about myself when asked ~

Information is under the cut , mostly for my personal preference ! CW for , well , transharmful things !! I don’t really go into detail until the very end , but still . I’m trigger-tagging this as a vent just in case.

It will probably be a lot lmao !! Be careful what you wish for Anon !!

A lot of my harmful thoughts come from rage . And that sounds very stereotypical , right ? Like “ oh, of course the transharmful person has homocidal thoughts , that’s a given . “ You’re right of course ! But it’s not just homocidal thoughts I get .

I get paraphiliac thoughts and urges as well when I’m in a heightened state of emotion , whether it be a positive OR negative feeling that I’m experiencing . & I’ve gotten homocidal thoughts from excitement or joy before . With heightened emotions these days comes heightened impulse .

I’m very good in retrospect with controlling these impulses , for the saftey of me and those around me . I’ve done nothing that warrants suspicion from those who trust me IRL , and nothing to tip off any mental health professionals , much less anything authorities would be concerned about.

I experience these thoughts near-constantly . I’m either wishing to be violent , aggressive & homocidal , or I’m fantasizing , usually sexually , ( but not always , to be fair ) about one of my paraphilias . When I’m not in these states of mind I’m almost purposefully distracting myself with special interests or hyperfixations . And mind you this is while I’m ON my medications , haha !! Though I doubt I’d be at risk of offending for either side when I’m not , my medication moreso keeps anxious paranoia and depression away .

These thoughts at this consistently don’t just come out of nowhere . To start off with , I’m also cis-traumatized , and had a C-PTSD diagnosis at the chrono age of 14 ( though apparently it’s not a diagnosis anymore ? correct me if I’m wrong ). My specialized therapist and I have determined I have genuine plurality that is either mostly or completely traumagenic , most likely P-DID or DID . I also have reason to be weary of having suffered R4MC04 ( censoring in case of antis jumping my post ) abuse as a child , due to knowledge of some of my alters I have experience with , and how I react subconsciously to certain things .

However , I have also most likely gained these thoughts from doing harmful things in my adolescence , usually impulsively and on purpose.

Disclaimer , chrono-minors ; I cannot and will not recommend you do ANY of these things listed . I’m not your parent and I can’t stop you , I understand that , but I feel obligated to put this warning here . Additionally I’m not providing details on how I did these things myself , and I will not do so if asked .

For one , as a young teen I would purposefully seek out sexual contact with much older men for my own sexual and emotional amusement . This is where I developed a lot of my sexual tastes from , honestly . I never felt bad for doing these things , only shame for getting caught by then-friends who were appalled.

I would also frequently ( with their consent ) use friends in my group for that same gratification . I lost my virginity to a friend I met in my first year of public middle school , years later in our friendship , for example .

I was also ( and still am , honestly ), a stalker of those who gave me enough attention to be interested , whether online or in person . I was also obsessive , checking messages and getting intense emotions when I saw my various objects of affection over the years do something I didn’t approve of .

There were also some things in younger childhood ,

— I ( unintentionally ) scared the absolute shit out of most boys in the two grades below be because I was notorious for harassing them for my amusement as a kid . ( my autistic ass simply thought that’s how people played at the time , but I thought it was also REALLY funny )

— for some odd reason , in my small impoverished Catholic elementary school , my year consistently had the most traumatized kids out of all of them . I was faced with sexual assault stories , parental death stories , physical abuse stories and more by my close friends all before I was ten, and besides the parental death ( which was a singular case ), all of that was normalized and unfortunately almost romanticized by the girls in my grade .

I specifically remember a friend of mine getting assaulted by a college boy when we were in third grade , and recall three girls asking her excitedly about the experience . ( STATING THIS IS NOT TO ROMANTICIZE IT, this is a genuine example of how serious violence was romanticized in my childhood. )

— I can name at least one teacher I know in middle school that clearly had eyes for me sexually . Nothing ever happened with him in my active memory , but I knew , and I think he knew I knew , and I definitely used it to my advantage . There was also one in high school , who , again nothing in my active memory happened with him , but I definitely knew and again used it to play him like a fiddle .

Until I was TOLD that these things were wrong , I wasn’t aware . I saw it as normal , fun , and exciting .

So those are most of my thoughts on the subject . Not sure if I’m cis-harmful or trans-harmful really .

[quinntessentially-queer]

Five years ago, one of my best friends invited me to come on a summer holiday with her family, in a little beach town a few hours drive from where went to high school together. Freshly 17, with just enough newfound confidence and independence to go on a holiday by myself, I agreed.

Her older sister drives us there, and we quickly get lost somewhere around the halfway point trying to look for an elephant shaped hill. “It really does look like an elephant,” I comment, after an hour’s detour. I remember my friend lamenting about the long drive and apologising to me profusely. I didn’t mind it. Being a child of divorced parents that live in different countries, I was used to long travel times. “This is about how much time it takes me to get home from the airport in Malaysia. And that’s after an 8 hour plane ride.”

I realise that line makes me sound a bit pretentious, but that’s probably an accurate representation of my personality at that age.

When we get to the campsite, her parents are sitting outside the caravan. They’re on their way out, leaving the caravan to my friend’s older sister and the tent set up on other half of the campground to the two of us. I’m nervous at the thought of looking after ourselves, mostly because I’m a shit cook. But my friend, newly vegetarian, has become fairly self sufficient in cooking separate meals for herself. I’m happy to be vegetarian for a week, and she’s happy to have someone to share her meals with, so it wasn’t the disaster I thought it was going to be. I soon come to find that the worst part of not having parents around is not having someone to drive you everywhere.

“The shops are only down the road. It doesn’t take long, we’ll be fine to walk there.” I didn’t mind the long drive up. I hate walking. But I put up with it, (minus some minor grumbling) because she’s my friend, who took me on this lovely holiday, who wears pretty sundresses and holds my hand as we walk down the street.

She takes me to the bakery that make her favourite apple strudels. We buy one each for breakfast because no one’s around to tell us not to, and then quickly discover why the sickeningly sweet dessert is not considered a breakfast food. She takes me to the ice cream place when it gets hot later in the day. We share a cup with two scoops because it’s cheaper than getting two cups with one scoop. She takes me to the op shop, where we try on the only clothes in this town two seventeen-year-olds could possibly afford.

Then she leads me around the corner of the main street, down a residential road to a bookshop with a rainbow flag flying out the front of it. She tells me that she used to come here all the time as a kid, but less so in recent years. “It’s a secondhand bookshop,” she says.

We step inside and I quickly realise it is so much more than that. Stepping into Blarney is magical. The first section of the building is an art gallery. Works inspired by Australian literature are set out in a gorgeous display for their annual Biblio Art Exhibition. If you can make it through the gallery without being trapped in awe, you walk through to a hall with bright orange walls, multicoloured bookshelves lined with new and used books, and rainbows everywhere you turn. In the corner sits a small stage, used in the daytime as a kids corner, draped in rainbow curtains and fairy lights. Plastered around the shop, on the sides of bookcases and on glass cabinets filled with more art, were various ‘Vote Yes!’ signs, all with some form or pride flag on them.

‘Vote Yes’ was a reference to Australia’s national referendum held the previous year on the legalisation of same-sex marriage. My friend and I, having recently come out to each other, had gone to two rallies together in support of the bill. The (public) afterparty in the park was some of the most fun I’d ever had, and we both came home with bits of rainbow glitter stuck to us.

At 22, out and proud, the occasional pride flag in a shop window makes me smile, but sometimes I remember how excited I used to be at seeing a tiny pride flag, and I get a little embarrassed. I’ve grown cynical in my grand old age. You have to remember that at 17, still closeted (aside from a few close friends), those small reminders that you were accepted, loved, and even celebrated, meant the world to you.

So you can imagine my delight as I walked through a bookshop that had borrowed leftover decorations from a pride parade. We walked through in silent awe, occasionally giving each other a nudge and nod in the direction of another poster. “You belong here.” “You are loved.” “Everyone is welcome here.” “Love is love.”

Eventually we pick out a children’s story book about a transgender teddy bear and shyly bring it up to the counter. My friend compliments the bookshop owner on her gorgeous store with all its rainbows and the owner goes on a tangent about how much she supports LGBTQ+ rights and how important it is to show that support. My friend bursts into tears and has to step aside to take a minute to get herself together. We go back to the counter and thank the owner for the book and the kind words.

That night, I had found a new show on Netflix with a queer character in it that I wanted to show my friend, so we pushed out mattresses together so we could lie closer to each other. To see the screen on my phone, of course. We found that the mattress kept shifting and we kept sliding down the middle of them onto the cold hard campsite ground. So we decided to lie sideways across the two mattresses instead. To watch the show, of course. I’m fairly sure we fell asleep in that position holding hands.

We stayed four nights in that tent, by ourselves. We went to the beach, went to the shops, cooked ourselves cheap pasta and read books. Her older sister occasionally checked that we were alive. But we were mostly wrapped up in each others company. And at the end of the trip, I still hadn’t gotten the courage to tell her how I felt.

Maybe I myself wasn’t sure how I felt. I think I liked her. She was one of my best friends. And I sure stared at her a lot wondering whether I liked her. The age old question: Do I think she’s pretty, or is she just the only other queer girl I know? The answer to both those questions was yes.

Five years on, my girlfriend and I still go back every year to visit that same little beach town. We go back to the same bakery, and share and Apple strudel between us now. We go back to the ice cream place, where we don’t mind paying anymore to get separate cups. We go back to the op shop; isn’t thrifting more environmentally conscious anyway?

We go back to Blarney Books and Art. We explore the new pieces in the art gallery. We browse the ‘Rainbow Reads’ section of the books. We chat for hours on end to our dear friend, the owner, invite her and the family out to brunch, and buy more books than we can fit on the bookcase in our soon to be home library. We go to the beach, spend ages putting sunscreen on only to get burnt anyway, wuss out of going in the freezing cold water. We sit on the sand and talk about our future. She’s going to be a teacher next year. I’m so proud of her. Tomorrow we will go home to our little ginger cat, wash the sand out of our clothes and curl up on the couch together to watch another show with LGBTQ+ representation. That at least hasn’t changed much.

[mywifeleftme]

138: Various Artists // Experiments in Destiny

Experiments in Destiny Various Artists 1980, BOMP!

BOMP! is a venerable Los Angeles-based indie label, founded in 1974 and would you believe still going to this day. Experiments in Destiny samples 28 bands either signed to or distributed by the label, and it’s a who’s who of “Who?” with a few starrier names scattered in. They specialized in New Wave, homages to ‘50s and ’60s rock, and springy power pop. I wrote this intro after deciding to do a track-by-track recap below, so uh, let’s get to it because there are too many words as it is.

Side One

Stiv Bators: First time hearing the solo work from the Dead Boys’ Stiv Bators, and it turns out he’s… Tom Petty-ish?

The Real Kids: Pitching this here with no real forethought, but you can divide power pop bands by whether or not their singers sound like their throat is dry. Boston’s The Real Kids are great, great dry-throated power pop, and probably one of the better-known acts here thanks to “All Kindsa Girls” showing up on a lot of compilations. They’d already broken up by 1980, so we get an unreleased demo that probably wasn’t easy to find elsewhere at the time.

The Dadistics: Somewhere between the Slits and Rough Trade, a little Pat Benatar in the vox—puts me in the mind of the similarly cool and obscure Mo-Dettes. The first third of the song is a no wavey fakeout, then it goes into a kinda Feeliesy riff. Extremely cool! And vocalist Audrey Stanzler went on to be part of the original lineup of… Ministry?!

Blake Xolton & The Martians: Tasting notes: Maybe Magazine at their most electronically disassociated? Blake Xolton was a producer with a very sparse discography, who may also have been part of the phony International Society of Poets who set up the controversial Poetry.com, a “poetry shearing site” per Wikipedia.

Jimmy Lewis & The Checkers: Pubby cover of the Aretha Franklin chestnut “Think.” Probably a little too close to Huey Lewis & the News for my taste.

The Nuns: Blondie-esque New Wave, with some very cool guitar and backing vocal effects that make it sound like the action is taking place in a futuristic resurrection chamber.

Gary Charlson: A smooth Kansas City pop rocker—his vocals strongly remind me of some minor prince of '70s classic rock radio, but all I'm coming up with is the guy from .38 Special, and I know that's not it. His sole EP covers a number of the titans of power pop (e.g. the expected Raspberries, Byrds, and Badfinger, the at the time obscure Big Star, the eternally head’s only Crabby Appleton and Vance or Towers), but he somehow never ended up cutting an LP despite a very radio-ready sound. Self-produced wonder? Nice bit o' Middle American flavour to it.

Side Two

Rodney & The Brunettes: Cutesy one-off cover of the surf rock classic by LA DJ Rodney Bingenheimer, who gives a respectable effort.

The "B" Girls: Toronto girl group who might've been able to get some of that Go-Go's money with a little polishing. Good harmonies, lead singer had a nice voice on her.

The MnM's: Excellent shake and pop, written by Paul Collins of the Nerves and the (American) Beat, and featuring the latter band's Steve Huff on bass. Vocalist Marci Marks is the kind of diminutive punk girl I’d probably have been crazy for at the time.

Paul Collins: Speaking of Collins, this is a second reminder in a row that I really need to get around to listening to his post-Nerves material, because this is a great sub-two minute blast of punkified Merseybeat.

Nikki & the Corvettes: Three-piece girl group from Detroit that sound strikingly like Tweens, a 2010s pop punk fav of mine. I'm addicted to this particular kind of snotty/bratty femme vocal, love how much room the single guitar gives to hear the bassist noodling around. Somehow I think this is the first time I’m hearing these guys.

Kathy & the Lawnmowers: After five straight '60s revival songs, we take an abrupt detour into Devo world. Kathy & the Lawnmowers were produced by the notorious Kim Fowley, who provides a blurb in the liners explaining that the mysterious bandmembers arrived at a session wearing masks having never met before, cut some tracks, then removed their masks, didn't like the looks of one-another and split for good. That's obviously baloney, but I prefer it to the version where Fowley did something terrible to them, which would not be uncharacteristic. They’re also credited as Jukebox Rebel Queens on the back cover? Anyway, fun trash sci-fi ramble about green children.

Side Three

The Sonics: "Up (to) the Junction"—sadly not a Squeeze cover, but pretty fetching stuff from the legends nonetheless. The bluesy rocking side of the Sonics (as opposed to the frothing proto-punk side), nice biting guitar tone.

The Weirdos: Per the liners, allegedly LA's first punk band, a claim I can't dispute because I continue to not know much of anything about LA punk, this is fun rockabilly style fair, like a less stylish Cramps. Good stomping beat.

The Zantees: A Gene Vincent cover in a Stray Cats vein, with a guitar player who can really go in that zippy old school Scotty Moore style.

Jon & the Nightriders: A surf rock instrumental cover—I wondered if "Super Jet Rumble" might've been by the Jet-Tones (of "Jet Tone Boogie" 'fame'), but no, seems to be a tune by The Breakers. Anyway, this sounds like every surf rock song, which is to say it rules but not in a way you'll necessarily remember.

The Lipstick Killers: High energy Australian garage rock that the band apparently called "straight edge music"; presumably Ian MacKaye had to go down to the Yabba and win a few rounds of the game from Wake in Fright to win the rights to that term. While we're at it, the song's called "Hindu Gods (of Love)"—Warren Zevon and R.E.M., you've got some explaining to do! Presumably on the B-side of the original single they also coined the term 'hyphy' and invented Lou Barlow.

The Hypstrz: A Minneapolis band with a legendary live reputation, but I can't really fuck with bands whose main gimmick is garaged up versions of old R&B sides. They probably absolutely crushed it live, but this version of "In the Midnight Hour" just kinda exists for me.

The Last: Clearly a last-minute (not a pun, fuck you) addition as it's not listed on the back of the sleeve or in the liners, the Last's "She Don't Know Why I'm Here" is a slashing piece of Anglophile psych-pop and one of the best things on this entire comp. It stuffs a remarkable number of twists and turns, false finishes, and secondary riffs into its three-and-a-half-minute runtime. The Last have a small cult following for their run of singles and debut LP LA Explosion! My only regret is that they didn't include the original single version of this one, as it elevates a groovy jam into a thrashing raveup.

The Dead Boys: Stiv Bators' second appearance on the comp; the Dead Boys were an almighty force in their day, but there's something kinda funny to me about ol' sloppy Stiv being the centrepiece of any label's roster. A good-enough take on "3rd Generation Nation" from their live LP Night of the Living Dead Boys—RateYourMusic reviewer mofoking shares some interesting backstory on how that LP came to be distributed by Bomp! and why nearly all of Stiv's vocals had to be overdubbed.

Side Four

The Crawdaddys: Perfectly competent Velvets cover, though the vox sneer their way past Lou into a Dylan impression.

The Martians: Previously appearing on this comp backing up "Blake Xolton" on a weirdo New Wave Christmas song, their own sound is traditional Merseybeat stuff. This isn't a classic, but it's a damned fine pastiche. Apparently they were a pair of record producers who joined together for this project, sharing lead vocal duties and playing all of the instruments themselves. No wonder it sounds great.

Pete Holly & the Looks: Heavy New Wave from Boise, Idaho, sporting a hilarious watery vocal filter and waka-waka guitar riffing. The chorus conceit is goofy ("Look out! Below!") but the Boiseans acquit themselves well. Somebody had to hold down the fort between Paul Revere & the Raiders and Built to Spill, so my thanks to Pete Holly.

The Wombats: Not the ’60s Wombats from Illinois or the ‘90s Wombats from also Illinois or the ‘00s Wombats from Liverpool, but rather a fourth Wombats from Cleveland, presumably the marsupial capital of the Lower Midwest. This (“Utter Frustration”) is sloppy and great and went by very quickly while I was trying to research whether Ohio's indeed part of the Lower Midwest, so I had to listen to it again.

Rainbow Red Oxidizer: A former sideman for the Seeds' Sky Saxton (presumably around the time he was fucking around with the Source Family), Rainbow Neal is accompanied by members of Focus, Spirit, Captain Beefheart's Magic Band, and even Mars Bonfire from Steppenwolf. I've got like six tabs open trying to figure out what this guy's deal is--love when a compilation sends me down a research hole like this. I'm sampling the Oxidizer LP now, and despite its New Wave window dressing, it's viciously sarcastic garage rock with the occasional jangly gem—if anything Rainbow's voice reminds me of Wire's Colin Newman. What a great song "When You Walk in the Room" is!

Cheek: Okay, these guys are Australian, covering an old Easybeats song, and are even produced by Vanda & Young, who give them something like a vintage AC/DC production sound, though these guys are considerably poppier than Angus and company. Vocalist does have a faint Bon Scott keen to his voice at times though.

The Romantics: Detroiters best known for "What I Like About You" (one of those songs I have heard ten thousand songs and never questioned the provenance of) turn in a rarity in "Running Away," a slab of pristine midwestern power pop that was apparently intended to be issued as a single with BOMP! but ended up seeing its first release here. They'd lose the Romantics to the Atlantic-distributed Nemperor Records right before they blew the fuck up, which has gotta be a label owner's nightmare.

Well, that took goddamn forever. If you’re still around, the tracks I most recommend fishing out are the Real Kids, Dadistics, “B” Girls, MnMs, Paul Collins, Nikki & the Corvettes, Last, Martians, Wombats, and Rainbow Red Oxidizer tunes. Not a bad haul!

138/365

[cazort]

Hello, trans person here, and I think our society as a whole is WAAAY too drug-happy and surgery-happy.

The thing that is so mind-numbingly aggravating about people's reaction to medical treatment for trans people thuogh, is that they completely ignore all the other ways in which minors and even young children are given unnecessary and sometimes harmful medical treatments, including both drugs and surgeries.

I have a friend whose life was made dramatically more difficult due to a botched orthopedic surgery she had as a kid, that sent her from having an annoying condition that she could walk with, to being basically disabled and unable to walk much at all.

I can't even count how many people I know were put on various psychiatric drugs as children, often stimulants for ADHD, and many of these people at some point found out that they didn't even benefit from the drugs and the side-effects were outweighing the benefits. I'm not saying everyone is like this, just that there are a lot of kids out there who are put on drugs that don't necessarily help them more than they hurt. The number who get prescribed such drugs as older teens is even bigger.

And then there are the intersex people who were operated on without their consent before they too young to even know about any of this stuff, WAAAY younger than any trans teens are ever given gender-affirming surgery. (Which is rare, I might add. I don't know any trans people who got any gender-affirming surgery under the age of 18 and I know a ton of trans people who didn't even get any hormonal treatment until older too, it seems to be the norm to wait, and the rare exception to get early treatment.)

So like...I would be comfortable with, and willing to entertain social conservatives in their complaints about trans youth being given surgeries and/or hormonal treatments at young ages, if they would be consistent and also voice just as much concern about other minors and even children being given equally-risky or even-riskier surgeries or drug treatments. Which, of course, they never do.

I have, again and again brought up the topic of surgeries performed on intersex children, and asked the question of whether people care about protecting minors from irreversible medical decisions they cannot consent to, or whether they are just trying to reinforce the gender binary. The answer?

Silence. Always. I have literally never had a social conservative respond to this question. Because we all know what the answer would be. But they don't want to own up and say it.

But you know what they do? They'll then let some time pass, and go around sharing material about how intersex people are really rare blah blah blah. And they'll cite like, one pop-psychologist and ignore a more recent piece co-signed by like 20 of the world's most renowned endocrinologists.

So like, yeah, let's talk about overmedicalization. Let's talk about overmedicalization of trans people and the trans experience, about the pressure we trans people face to undergo medical transition (which I might add, comes partly from the refusal of social conservatives to acknowledge our identities) but let's also talk about the overmedicalization of intersex people and let's talk about the overmedicalization of cis people's experiences too including things totally unrelated to gender, just the way our society is over-eager to push drugs and surgery as a way of solving virtually any type of problem, from anxiety and depression to made-up conditions that don't really exist but are just serving the goal of making some pharmaceutical company rich.

Let's talk about all of this but let's damn well actually talk about it instead of just having a fake conversation that is just a front for cutting trans youth off from gender-affirming care.

I'm imagining the very unfortunate 13 year old trans boy who has top surgery and then grows more later as puberty progresses.

(I know that 13 year olds don't get top surgery unless there's something VERY weird/wrong [for instance: cancer] going on with the kid's body.)

Minors absolutely can and do get, for instance, breast implants--but only if they're cis, and only with parental permission. The fucked up thing is that a lot of medical procedures that are considered perfectly safe and uncontroversial as long as you're cis (puberty blockers, HRT, various kinds of plastic surgery) get rhetorically transformed into a big scary cloud of evil for trans people, and even transphobes who are nominally opposed to, say, breast implants for sixteen year olds certainly aren't going to spend nearly as much time, if any at all, railing against that sort of thing in public. Because all of this is a post-hoc justification for an intense disgust they feel at gender nonconformity, not actually a principled defense of anybody's rights.

This is also why you can't rhetorically pin them down on any single point. They'll lie about GCS; and when you point out that's a lie, they'll go "well, what about puberty blockers?" And if you point out that puberty blockers are pretty safe, were invented to treat precocious puberty in cis kids, and their effects are entirely reversible, they'll leap to bathrooms or FUD about nebulous issues of "women's rights," and if you try to pin them down about that, they'll circle right back around to lying about GCS, hoping any onlookers have forgotten about or missed that part of the discussion.

I have very little sympathy for people who argue so transparently in bad faith and whose pyschosexual obsessions are so nakedly on display. Books like Irreversible Damage lay bear the extent to which transphobia is almost wholly about cis peoples' anxiety about their own gender and gender expression, in the same way that homophobia is often straight people twisting themselves into knots about their own sexuality. What these people really need is therapy, or an ayahuasca retreat, or to do some yoga about it, but that would require the uncomfortable process of cultivating self-knowledge, so plan B is "make sure I don't have to be confronted with evidence that the human experience is more diverse and complicated than I have been previously willing to believe."

[croimilis]

sunshine

title: sunshine

rating: 18+ [no actual smut but it gets close]

character: leo valdez x apollo!reader (leo calls them sunshine)

words: 1,433

themes: established relationship, fluff,

warnings: allusions to smut, making out, public making out, cursing, some minor heavy petting

summary: leo can’t help but stare as you lounge in the sun

a/n: this is an anti-calypso account, so there is no mention of calypso or her relationship with leo in this.  all characters are aged up to 18+, this ended up smuttier than i intended and i am [not] sorry

Leo watches as you sit beside him, arms thrown out behind you to support you as your legs sprawled out in front of you with your head thrown back in peaceful bliss just enjoying the rare peacefulness and calm at Camp Half Blood. With the mid-July heat reaching soaring temperature, activities had been cancelled for the safety of the campers, it had only been a week earlier most of them ended up with heat stroke after a fully day of activities and Will had insisted it not happen again the infirmary was overrun with ill campers and he may have lost his mind in the chaos as there wasn’t enough well trained healer lefts in the Apollo cabin, yourself included as your gifts lay more on the side of archery and the arts. 

Which left the campers free to do what they wanted, most had opted to stay in the shade of their cabins or had enlisted the help of the Hecate cabin who were providing enchanted fans that would help campers stay cool. There were only really three cabins who were found out in heat, the Hephaestus cabin who was used to the heat from the armoury, the Poseidon cabin (which was only Percy at the minute as Tyson got called back down to their father armoury) who opted for staying in the water all day to avoid the scorching heat, and the Apollo cabin who were lounging about various parts of the camp enjoying the sunshine while they could. 

So while Leo was supposed to be working away in the armoury, or in bunker 9, you found a spot on the beach to relax the day away. Leo had seen you on his way to bunker 9 and just couldn’t help himself but join you for a little while, after all it had been a long time since the two of you were able to be alone with Chiron and Mr D really cracking down on two campers of the opposite sex being alone together after one of the Aphrodite kids and Ares kids were caught in a compromising position a few weeks before. 

While you could go to bunker 9 for a little privacy, you had been so busy this summer with teaching archery and taking care of the newest additions to the Apollo cabin, a sweet little 6 year old girl called Abigail, who had attached herself to your hip the moment she arrived at the start of summer, and Leo was busy working away in bunker 9 on his newest contraption or else he was deep in the armoury helping his siblings come up with new weapon ideas.

So you only really saw each other during lunch and dinner and the end of night sing-a-longs where you wrap yourself up in Leo’s arms and you tell each other about your day but it wasn’t enough. You missed him, missed his touch, his sweet words, and the way he lit your body up like a circuit board with just a single touch, and he missed you as well. Missed your sweet smile and angelic words, missed how your touch made him feel alive, as if every nerve in his body was designed to respond to your touch. So, of course he was going to relish in any moment alone with you that he could get, including right now. 

“You’re staring.” 

Your voice breaks Leo out of his trance, the teasing lilt and small smirk spreading on your lips causing him to roll his eyes affectionately while a smile spreads across his lips, he thought he was being sneaky as he came up beside you but of course you knew he was there you always seemed to know when he was around. “It’s hard not to mi corazon.” 

You look simply ethereal with your hair drawn back out of your face and the sun glistening off the light sheen of sweat that had gathered on your skin. How could you not? You were the child of the sun god himself and you were most certainly in your element with the summer rays shimmering against your exposed skin. 

You dip your head forward and turn to the side to look at Leo, eyes full of love and affection as they trail over your figure clad in a pair of shorts and your orange Camp Half Blood shirt which you had tied up with at the front with a hair tie to try and alleviate some of the discomfort caused by the heat while also exposing as much skin as you could to the sun. You let out a scoff at his words and roll your eyes at him, “I am sweating like a pig Leo, my hair is a frizzy mess because of the mixture of heat and humidity. I am a certified mess right now.”

“You are still the most beautiful person on this planet”

This time you snort at him, “Careful don’t let the Drew hear you, she’d have heart failure,” He just laughs as he reaches out to you and gently pushes you down onto the sand by your shoulder, following suit so he was hovering over you and placing his hands by your head to support himself as he leans down and places a gentle kiss to your lips. 

You melt into the kiss, your hands reaching up to wrap around Leo’s neck and tangle themselves through the little baby curls at the base of his neck. The kiss is soft and sweet at first, you’re just relishing the feeling of being in each others arms of being able to kiss each other without an audience around but it quickly turns a little more heated as you get greedy and tug on Leo’s curls. 

He groans at the motion, allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth and deepen the kiss, absolutely desperate to have every little bit of himself he was willing to give in that moment. Leo indulges you, allowing you to swirl your tongue around his before he takes control and forces your tongue back into your mouth, opting to bite down on your lip which draws a soft whimper from your lips and electricity to course through your entire body to where you wanted Leo the most. 

Knowing what you want, Leo is quick to adjust himself so that now his knee was in between your legs pressing against you in the most delicious way. You whine at the contact, a small breathy moan leaving your lips that is doing nothing to calm the raging boner that Leo is now sporting, and Leo pulls back to chuckle against your lips, “My sweet little sunshine girl, already so desperate for me.” 

Leo words cause even more heat to spread through your body and you have to do everything in your power to stop yourself grinding against his knee, so instead to distract yourself you pull Leo back down to your lips and tangle your hands in his hair, giving a light tug every now and then that causes beautiful moans to slip through Leo’s lips. 

You were so greedy for Leo that you would have kept going and let him take you right there on the beach but the sound of voices causes the two of you to break apart before you can get too heated, some of which you recognise as being your siblings from the Apollo cabin (Will included) who seemed to have decided now was the perfect time for a quick swim. You let out a gentle ’fuck’, annoyed that they had interrupted your time with Leo, and Leo just chuckles as he takes a hand to gently run down your jawline so he could cup your check and press a quick peck against your lips before he stands up and offers you a hand, an enticing smirk on his face.

“What do you say we sneak off to bunker 9 sunshine? Hmm?” 

You’re quick to take his hand and he pulls you up into his chest, where you pull him down by his shirt for another quick kiss just before your siblings arrive at the beach, “That sounds absolutely perfect.” 

Leo is quick to start pulling you in the direction of bunker 9, offering a quick nod of his head to your siblings (apart from darling little Abigail who was spending the day with Lacy at the Aphrodite cabin) who are all giving you knowing looks and smirks with Will shouting after you to “make safe choices”, causing you to flip him off with a smile as Leo laughs.