#lordy lordy look who's 40

[fathercharlesoffdensen]

Per AP News, "The Pope had to issue an apology last month after Italian media quoted unnamed bishops saying that Francis jokingly used the term 'faggotness' while speaking in Italian during a meeting. He had used the term in reaffirming the Vatican’s ban on allowing gay men to enter seminaries and be ordained priests. Francis reportedly repeated the word a second time in a meeting with Rome priests this week."

Our - aka @thortwenty151 + moi's - 2024 B-I-N-G-O card(s) said nothing about creating Pope-themed Pride merchandise as a cheeky response to his own 'frociaggine,' and yet, here we are (hashtag two broke froces!). Still working on adding more items / designs to the collection / fundraiser!

BONUS: Get 40% off of all orders (for spiritual services) $22+ via The Gabby Godphone (Etsy) - lordy lordy, look who's (almost) 40!

[cecilysass]

Honest Man (2/3)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter Two

Mulder approaches the bar to find the bartender with her arms folded and her expression weary. She’s speaking to Bill and his friends in a condescending monotone.

“So your choices are that he can call a cab, one of y’all can take him home, or I can contact local law enforcement,” she is saying with an extended sigh. “He can’t stay. This is a place of business.”

Bill Scully doesn’t appear to be listening. He is bent over on a barstool, his forehead resting against the bartop. To his right, a group of men have gathered around him, nodding solemnly at the bartender. They look so serious Mulder would think they were attending a wake if it weren’t for the guy with the pink and silver cardboard hat that says “Lordy, Lordy, look who’s 40.”

“Yes, ma’am, we understand,” one of Bill’s friends is saying. “Thing is, we’re in the middle of a birthday party, and if one of us leaves now to take him home, we don’t have enough cars for everyone else. Give us a second to figure it out.”

He lifts a finger and turns to consult with his companions. The bartender watches them skeptically, pursing her lips in disapproval as she goes to tend to another customer.

Mulder takes the opportunity to discreetly trot up to Scully’s brother and sit on the stool next to him. “Hey Bill,” he says quietly, speaking to the man’s back.

Bill moans a little, lifting his head up from the bar to peek at Mulder through one eye.

“You know, I could drive you home,” offers Mulder, leaning over to be heard. Bill doesn’t answer.

Mulder leans his head to the side and clears his throat to attract the attention of Bill’s companions. “Hey, uh, I’m happy to drive Bill home. I know him, and I’m entirely sober. My car is here. It’s not a problem.”

“Oh yeah?” One of Bill’s friends, an early 40s black man a little taller and wider than Mulder, looks interested in this option. “Isn’t this the guy you were talking to before, Scully? He a friend of yours?”

“No,” Bill answers with sudden conviction. He sits up and swivels to speak to his friend. “Not a friend. A son of a bitch. The guy who ruined my sister’s life, Hal.”

Bill’s friends look at one another uneasily, as though not sure what to say in response.

“Listen, I don’t know, man,” Hal says to Mulder, scowling. “We don’t know you.”

“I’m his sister’s partner,” Mulder says apologetically. “At work. At the F.B.I.. Here.” He stands up and reaches into his pocket to pull out his badge, flashing it to Hal. “He doesn’t like me very much, but I promise—I’m a friend of the family, I can get him home safely. Are you staying at your mom’s, Bill?”

“Yeah,” Bill says, his voice muffled by the bar.

“I can take him to Maggie’s,” Mulder says. “I know where it is.”

“You wouldn’t have to pay for a cab or anything then,” a shorter man points out to Bill encouragingly, clearly hopeful about this solution to the problem. “You should go with him, Scully.”

“See, normally Bill doesn’t drink so much,” Hal explains to Mulder, his eyebrows knitting together. “We didn’t realize… we would’ve made him slow down. There’s something on his mind tonight, something with his wife. We didn’t plan for something like this.”

“Shut up, Hal,” Bill mutters face down into the bar.

The bartender has reappeared. Hands on her hips, she fixes Mulder with a significant look. “If you’re going to be the one to drive him, you better get going,” she says. “He already got sick in the back hall. He’s too intoxicated to stay.”

“All right, sure,” Mulder agrees, trying to sound cheerful, although he is suddenly filled with dread that Bill might get sick in his car, too. He looks down at the hulking figure leaned over the bar and is amazed for a moment that this is his life, his Friday night plans.

The Fox Mulder of ten years ago would have unquestionably been headed to Diana’s to have his brains fucked out.

He rests his hand lightly on Bill’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get you into bed.”

“That might work on your dates, asshole,” Bill says, slurring again, “but I’m not that kind of girl.”

Mulder chuckles, trying to put his arm under Bill’s so he can lift him to his feet. “That’s funny, Bill. I didn’t know you were funny.”

It’s an awkward lift, because Bill is such a tall man, but Mulder manages to get him off the barstool, with some hesitant assistance from Hal. Bill’s other friends watch with relieved expressions.

“Where’d she go, anyway?” Bill says, finally stumbling to his feet and squinting to see behind Mulder. “Your date?”

“She left,” Mulder says simply. He pats Bill’s arm playfully. “You’re my date now, big guy.”

“Don’t touch me again, you son of a bitch,” Bill growls fiercely, spinning unsteadily towards Mulder.

“Okay, okay,” Mulder says, backing away. “Then you’re going to have to walk by yourself to the car. You got it?”

Bill glowers at him, but manages to follow him out of the bar with only occasional stumbles.

***

Old Town Alexandria is brightly lit, festive, thrumming with groups of people milling around on a Friday night. When they arrive at Mulder’s car, Bill discovers that the seat is adjusted for a different Scully.

He tries to shoehorn his long legs into the car, cursing colorfully under his breath. Mulder watches this unwieldy process while gritting his teeth from the driver’s seat. It would probably make him laugh under other circumstances.

Mulder gets out, jogs around to the other side, and hesitantly bends down to show Bill how to adjust the seat with the lever. He then tries to demonstrate in clumsy charades where exactly the seat belt buckle fastens.

Eventually he has to precariously lean his body over Bill’s lap to fasten it himself, wondering if awkward moments with Scully’s brother will just continue to keep one-upping themselves. Bill sits sullenly there as Mulder clicks the seatbelt in place, his arms folded over his chest.

Mulder guesses he’s not going to get a thank you card any time soon.

Now Bill sits facing the front window in sour silence as they drive through Alexandria. Mulder is having a hard time distinguishing between what is a sulky expression and what is a warning sign of impending nausea.

“You feeling all right?” Mulder says.

“Shut up,” Bill replies gruffly.

“Need to pull over or anything?”

“I said shut up.”

“It’ll take us about 35 minutes to get to your mom’s house,” offers Mulder. “Do you want to—”

“No.” Bill’s tone changes abruptly. He turns to Mulder urgently. “Not my mom’s.”

“I thought that’s where you were staying.”

“‘I’m too drunk,” he says adamantly. “I can’t go back and see Mom and Tara and Matty. I don’t want them to see me like this. Don’t go there.”

“But won’t they … worry?”

“Take me to Dana’s,” Bill says. “Please. Dana will know how to handle it.”

Mulder’s eyebrows raise uncertainly. “Maybe we should call her first.”

“Nah. Just drive there,” Bill says. “Dana owes me. I helped her sometimes when she was drunk … when she was younger.”

Mulder nods slowly, filing away that fascinating tidbit for later.

“Okay, sure,” Mulder says, keeping his tone friendly. “That’s closer, anyway. We can be at Scully’s in less than twenty minutes.”

Bill grunts in some way that seems to indicate approval. He leans his head back against the seat rest and goes quiet again. Gradually his whole frame begins to tilt towards the passenger window, and Mulder assumes he’s probably fallen asleep.

That’s for the best, really. Much less uncomfortable. Mulder mulls over the idea of turning on the radio. Or better, maybe fishing out his phone and giving Scully some warning they’re coming.

“Didn’t you go … to Harvard or something?” Bill’s gravelly voice speaks up suddenly, startling Mulder.

Mulder eyes the side of Bill’s neck warily. “No.”

“Yeah, you did.” Bill rolls his limp head around to look at him. His blue eyes are bloodshot. “Dana’d brag about your fancy education. Back when she first got the job.”

Mulder swallows a smile. “Did she?” He’s delighted to imagine her talking about him like that, especially early in their partnership, when she always seemed so unimpressed.

“You have some … degree for shrinks. Harvard, right?”

“Oxford, actually. Psychology.”

“Whatever.” Bill lifts a shoulder apathetically. “The point is, you know about relationships.”

“About relationships?” Mulder repeats doubtfully.

“You’d know what to say.”

“What to say…?”

“You know,” Bill says impatiently. “When you’ve said the wrong thing.”

He crosses his arms again petulantly. For a few moments after this cryptic statement Mulder thinks he has given up talking, but then he continues.

“Tara told me she wanted to go back to work,” Bill says. “You know, her guidance counselor job. She’s a high school guidance counselor.”

“That’s good,” Mulder says cautiously, confused by the turn in conversation.

“It’s good? Who says it’s good to go back to work?” Bill asks, his voice rising in irritation.

Mulder doesn’t answer, feeling out of his depth.

“Matty isn’t that old. Really still a baby. I’m gone all the time.” Bill appears to be arguing with the front windshield now. “Mom never worked. She was always there.”

Mulder doesn’t know how to respond to that. It sounds classically, villainously sexist to him, but he doesn’t want to anger Bill again.

“But I don’t think I … said things too well when she told me,” Bill says, in a different tone of voice. “I didn’t say the right things.” He shakes his head slowly, some more somber emotion breaking over him like a wave. “I said … the wrong things.”

Mulder nods, watching him out of the corner of his eye as he drives.

“We had a fight,” Bill says to the windshield, and it seems to Mulder he’s now entirely forgotten who he’s actually talking to. “A big fight. This morning at my mom’s. And when I went out with the guys from the Academy tonight, I just …” He drifts off.

“Got drunk as a skunk?” suggests Mulder quietly.

“Yeah. I guess,” says Bill gruffly. He closes his eyes and releases a long breath. “So how do I fix it?”

There’s a pause as it sinks in precisely what Bill is asking.

Mulder clears his throat and tries to keep it light. “Bill, seriously, I’m the last guy on the planet who should be giving anyone marital advice.”

“I acted like a dick, I know I did,” Bill continues dully. “The job … is important to her. She misses going to work every morning and all that. Makes her happy. I acted like … some caveman. Like I was my dad. I just don’t know how to… how do I talk to her about it now?”

He brushes his knuckles over his eyes. Mulder isn’t sure if he is prepared to handle Bill Scully, Jr. actually crying in his car, but he feels an involuntary pang of sympathy.

“Well,” Mulder says, choosing his words carefully, “I’d say you should probably be completely honest. Tell her what you just told me. That you know you acted like a dick but you regret it. That you know how important the job is to her. And then … you know, try to listen to what she tells you. Really listen. Be willing to, uh, compromise.”

Bill turns to look at him, still aggressively rubbing his eyes, which seem wet. “Yeah, okay,” he says. “You think that’ll work?”

“Sure,” Mulder says, shrugging a shoulder. He’s not one to know a lot about success in relationships firsthand, but it seems like straightforward, foolproof enough advice to him.

“Hm.” Bill sniffs, quickly rubs his nose. Then he seems to relax and let his eyes fall close.

He is unsettlingly quiet for a few moments. Mulder sneaks a curious glance over at him, again wondering if he’s fallen asleep.

“Why do you do it? To Dana?” Bill mumbles, his eyes still closed. “I know you’re an asshole, but I kind of think you love her.”

Mulder stares numbly at the road and doesn’t respond right away. When he does, he finds that the truth unexpectedly slips out. “I do love her.”

“You have a fucked up way of showing it,” Bill murmurs.

“Scully and I are partners,” Mulder says by rote. “We’re not involved.”

Bill opens his eyes and gives him a look. “Both of you say that a lot.”

“It’s true.”

“My sister loves you so much that she’d do fucking anything for you, and you don’t even …” He drifts off, and he snorts. “I guess it’s not my business.”

Mulder wants to respond in all sorts of ways, like “Scully doesn’t do things because she loves me,” or “Scully is her own person and makes her own choices” or “You’re right, it’s not your business.” But it’s like his annoying-ass voice has finally run out of words to say.

“You know what? I’m gonna try what you said with Tara,” Bill whispers sleepily. “I really am.” His eyes droop exactly like his sister’s do when she’s tired. “I’m actually gonna do it. I love her, man. You do anything when you love her.” He closes his eyes for the remainder of the car ride.

***

When they arrive at Scully’s, it’s not that late, only about 10 o’clock, and Mulder has definitely banged on her door at worse hours and for worse reasons.

Yet he feels oddly anxious about this situation, like he’s the one who has done something he has to delicately explain.

He taps his finger against his hip in rapid rhythm as they wait for the door, her brother propped up against him like a giant sandbag. Bill’s alcohol must be soaking in cumulatively, because he seems to have become progressively more wasted, not less.

“Mulder?” comes Scully’s puzzled voice through the door. He doesn’t know exactly how much she can see through her peephole. Bill is slumping heavily on him now, though, and Mulder is buckling under the weight. He’s eager for Scully to let them in quickly.

“Scully,” he says in a strained voice through the door, “I’ve got a special delivery for you.”

They hear the metallic clicking of Scully’s various latches unlocking. Mulder gives Bill a reassuring pat and hoists his arm up higher on his shoulder.

“Bill?” gasps Scully. She is wearing some silvery silk pajamas, which is typical interrupted evening wear for her, but still always manages to give Mulder a little inappropriate thrill. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Dana,” Bill manages to mutter. He stumbles off of Mulder’s shoulder into her apartment. “How ya doin’, sis.”

“Is he … drunk?” Scully asks Mulder, stunned.

“In a manner comparable to a skunk,” Mulder confirms. “I ran into him in Alexandria. He was getting into some trouble, but it’s all worked out now, isn’t it, Bill?”

“Imma sit down,” announces Bill, sinking down on her sofa somewhere inside.

Her eyes wide, Scully runs her hand over her mouth in consternation, as if unsure whether to laugh or cry. “Come in, Mulder.” She turns back to her brother. “Do Mom and Tara know where you are, Bill?”

Bill has sunk backward on the sofa, his head lolling, looking up at the ceiling. He vaguely groans.

“I don’t think they do,” Mulder tells her. “He asked me to bring him here because he didn’t want them to see him like this. He said you owed him.” Mulder gives her a curious look and leans forward to add: “Looking forward to that story.”

A perfect roll of her eyes. “One youthful transgression, and you’re apparently obligated for life.” She huffs and locks up her door, then spins back around to Bill. “All right, Party Boy, let’s get you settled in the guest room. I’ll call Mom and Tara.”

***

It takes both Mulder and Scully’s full effort to get Bill safely ready for bed. Mulder would never have dreamed one day he would be struggling to help Scully take off Bill Scully’s shoes, dragging him into the bedroom, tucking him into bed. But he finds himself actually fluffing the pillow, encouraging the man to lie down.

“Best thing you can possibly do is to sleep it off,” Mulder advises in the world-weary tone of a wise old frat boy.

Bill has grasped Scully’s hand, and he seems to be solemnly pumping it up and down. “Thank you, Dana,” Bill whispers scratchily. “You’re a good, good sister. You know that? A good sister.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, faintly amused. “You’re right—I’m a world class sister. Now put your head down on the pillow, Bill.”

But Bill twists to the side and grabs hold of Mulder’s shirt, pulling him down towards him.

“Listen,” Bill says, leaning heavily into Mulder’s face. “Listen, man, thank you. For the advice about Tara. That was all right.”

Helplessly, Mulder looks up at Scully. She has a hand on her hip, and her eyes widen in surprise. She can’t contain an amused smirk.

“No problem,��� Mulder says, managing to gently extricate himself and lower Bill back to the bed. “I hope it works out.”

“Me, too,” Bill says, nodding. “And I’m sorry for yelling at you, for interrupting your date. You’re all right.” He pats Mulder’s arm gingerly. “You’re all right.”

“It’s fine,” Mulder says, feeling his ears going fiercely hot. “No worries.”

He looks up quickly at Scully. She doesn’t look amused any more. No more smirk. It’s as though her face has been shuttered and boarded up, like all expression of emotion has been put away.

Mulder feels a stone in the pit of his stomach.

“I don’t wanna be rude or anything.” Bill’s voice is a barely understood mumble by now. “But I think I’m gonna sleep for a while.”

Mulder tries to catch her eye, but Scully just nods brittly and turns away.

***

[memeapple2]

Aqua teen hunger force starters :^)

"YOU DARE DISRESPECT THE WORDS OF THE MIGHTY JIMMY!"

"You look at them and tell me there's a god!"

"I'm an adult and I deserve an adult glass"

"You don't own space, so stop actin like you do!"

"Okay have a crappy weekend I hope your house burns down."

"It don't matter. None of this matters."

"I'm just sayin' that if you continue rippin' off my idea, my unique graphics, someone's face is gonna get ripped off. And that ain't a threat, that's a guarantee."

"GENTLEMEN BEHOLDI HAVE LOST WEIGHT!"

"I am 30 or 40 years old I do not need this!"

"Its a groovy time for a movie time!"

"Hell, no, I pay no bills. I pay you no mind!"

"That says the bibble."

"Well, I'm just glad you finally learned some responsibility. In the most ass way possible."

"Are you the guy who keeps telling me to "Beware"? 'Cause I'll tell you where to be! Outta my sight!"

"God has allowed me to live another day and I'm gonna make it everyone's problem."

"DIDN'T I TELL YOU TO SUCK IT!? I DON'T HEAR NO GLUG GLUG GLUG!!"

“I’m gonna start dropping F-bombs. Listen to this: Fart you, fart head.”

“I don’t have any real dolls, I prefer to use my infinite imagination… cause I ain’t got no damn money.”

“We do whatever we want, to whomever we want, at all times.”

“It’s not Dracula, it’s just a damn school bus!”

“Hey, which one of y’all left the door open? And tore it off the hinges, and threw it in the yard?”

“You better run, boy! And bring back some chocolate syrup, too. Or your fate is sealed.”

"Where you should have a brain there's just a cavity that keeps you afloat. Isn't THAT something to be really proud of."

"Oh no, so what you're saying is this is a mystery and we have to go solve it, right? I scheduled this day off over two weeks ago. I made a memo."

"You're about to not have a mouth! And I mean it! I'LL RIP IT OFF!"

"You think you're gonna live forever, but you won't. Someone'll kill ya. Someone'll kill ya with a knife."

"Teeth are for gay people. That's why fairies come and get them."

"He needs his brain or else he's just going to float around saying 'do what now.'"

"Well, that was fun. I'm gonna take a nap now, and then I think I'm gonna call, uh, some hospitals."

"It is the Broodwich, forged in darkness from wheat harvested in Hell's half-acre, baked by Beelzebub, slathered with mayonnaise beaten from the evil eggs of dark chicken forced into sauce by the hands of a one-eyed madman, cheese boiled from the rancid teat of a fanged cow, layered with six-hundred and sixty-six separate meats from an animal which has maggots for blood!"

"I must say... bacon aside, this is the best damn sandwich I've ever had in my life."

"Hell no! That sumbitch had an axe!"

"Why do you disappoint me?? Second by second, you waste my time."

"The only reason God doesn't erase you from the face of the earth is beacuse you amuse him somehow!"

GOD YOU SUCK AT BASKETBALL!"

"GO BACK TO YOUR MAMA!"

"LORDY LORDY LOOK WHO'S TURNING 4040!"

"This cord was plugged into my house and your house was glowing like the freaking sun! So I put two and two together there... and decided that you're pissing me off!"

"Now, I am not a violent person. But I would kill somebody, in front of they own grandmother, for a ten-speed."

"The blood bank is an evil pyramid scheme perpetrated by Dracula and his night slaves."

"Only us adults can say hell, damn, bitch, and ass. So get your helling, damn ass over to that bitching, damn room dammit!"

"This will only hurt for a second... but damn will it hurt."

"Well I'm in business. Business of kicking your ass, and let me tell ya, business is booming. I'm open for business, business of giving you the business... up your butt. Business is good."

"People like me. Because I force them to. With violence."

"you can't tell me im drunk, thats between me and god"

"Yeah, I keep the blinds closed, so it's kinda disorienting. But you know, I don't want the government in my business."

"Now why don't you go back to the time before Christ, AKA next door."

"You are the gayest monster since gay came to gaytown."

"You're lucky I'm thoughtful enough to throw my anger at the media, and not your buttocks!"

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

almost-birthday thoughts

i'll turn 40 in a few days, on thursday. i've always loved presents and reasons to celebrate, round numbers, enthusiasm...reasons to be excited, i guess. but this birthday matters way more to me than the others; it feels deeper. i don't look to 50 or 60 (if i'm lucky enough to get there) and feel any particular way, but i felt this one coming. i needed this one to matter.

my mom was 32 when she had me, and her 40th birthday is the first birthday i remember witnessing of hers. the family teasing her, the 'lordy lordy looks who's forty' rhymes. her hair was already gray, and welfare hadn't forced her back into the workforce yet. she was happier than i would ever see her be, again.

and i honestly don't remember much else about her birthday party, or that year specifically. big, terrible things happened a year later, but when i was only 8? she was just 40, we all celebrated like we celebrated every birthday of everybody--and the number didn't mean anything to me.

now, i'm about to be 40, and the last time i saw my mom, i was 21. she turned 72 this year, which is the age my grandmother was when she died. i reached out, because of that. i get my spine from my grandmother and my stubbornness from my mother, but i yielded, just enough. i know i won't see her again while she's alive. i'm at peace with that, as much as i can be.

but it still makes 40 feel more important, somehow. like i've hit the inbetween. i've survived the rock and the hard place and somehow i'm still alive and i'm going to be 40 years old, older than my mother was when i entered the world, while she's older than her mother was when she left it.

i've never cared much about age in the way some people do: i don't worry about how wrinkles make me look, or how quickly silver began streaking through my brown hair. i'm not lamenting (or celebrating) what i've accomplished as i approach a real mile marker. until i started writing this, it didn't even occur to me that depending on how long i live, i may actually be entering middle age now.

that can't be true, right? whatever middle-aged is, it doesn't feel like me reblogging tumblr gifs and rambling about the movies i've watched or sharing my cat stories. my health issues have existed for so long they seem entirely divorced from the passage of time, so i can't even say i feel like i'm getting old because i have pain, or sleep trouble--whatever the cliches are.

anyway, being the many things that i am (autistic, bipolar, anxious, vibrating at a high ADHD frequency even while medicated), i'm probably always going to be one of those 'i don't feel my age' people. so that doesn't surprise me. it's more the principle of this year, that matters to me. it has mattered all year as i felt my birthday approaching.

so both intentionally and coincidentally, i made this one of my biggest birthdays ever. because of the timing of thanksgiving and school holidays and other stuff outside my control, my family celebrating started early. last week alone was intense, in the best way.

i found out earlier this year, with much surprise and delight, that hadestown was not only touring, but coming literally to our downtown theater. a ticket to that was my gift to myself. i'd never seen any musical i love onstage--and definitely not a broadway one, touring or otherwise. and i didn't think about, when i purchased the ticket, how the show would be happening only a week after the election. but it was perfect, even more so because of that. i needed it.

and then, @actuallylukedanes made it possible for me to see suzy eddie izzard, performing live. they're the one who first introduced me to her comedy, literally decades ago now, and her bits are embedded in the fabric of our family (who all went together). getting to actually be in her presence wasn't on my bucket list, much like i didn't actually expect to see a musical i loved until i did--i'm still a little in shock that we were really there. it really happened. and in addition to being funny, she was very sincerely trying to give us all hope. it made me cry.

before the show, we got something to eat nearby, and it's been years since i had such a good milkshake. i want to go back there and try their sandwiches (i enjoyed the fries and their natural orange soda). the theater smelled like history, and i love all the memories i made with my family just on that one day, including the hour i spent reading in the car before i ran out of sunlight while music blasted all around us. and the singalong on the ride home. i think it was nearly 4 hours of driving, to get there and back that day, but for me at least, it was worth it.

i've already gotten one of my birthday presents (besides the suzy eddie izzard show of course), because @actuallyrorygilmore had to visit early and leave yesterday, thanks to the schedules etc i mentioned above. she got me a book i really wanted, and can't wait to read, once i've made a dent in my giant partially-read pile of paperbacks and hardcovers from my distracted era. (i'm nearly done with two! i'm making actual progress!)

i also got a cupcake and a box of caramels i love...and all of that was before my birthday has even happened!

i've still got some kind of unwrappable gift coming to mark the day, and the wicked movie coming out, 20 years after i was first belting along to the soundtrack in my college dorm room, alone over thanksgiving break. (i won't be seeing wicked on my birthday, but because regal sometimes opens movies here a day early on thursdays, it will premiere on my birthday. i love that.)

a lot about this year, heading into turning 40, has been really hard. i lost my little ghost cat, bailey, in january--and mellie's son sebastian, who brought bailey to us in the first place...we lost him right before halloween. pretty horrible bookends to 2024. and now, bonus fascism! that's just hovering, a january storm cloud i'm ignoring until it's here.

so, i can't say 40 is gonna be fantastic. or, 2025 will be my best year yet! or anything else silly, like the hopeful things i remember proclaiming as we were heading into 2020. i'm sure i believed them at the time, very sincerely--but the universe gave us a pandemic instead, among so much else. that was not a year of joy.

what i can say, and be grateful for, is that i'm about to be 40 years old. and when i was a child, and i tried to imagine my life someday, it was a big expanse of nothingness. it wasn't that i was pessimistic about my future, or even that i didn't know what i wanted. i literally couldn't imagine myself as an adult, living in the world, having any life different from the way things had always been for me, growing up. i couldn't see it.

so i genuinely, fiercely, painfully believed that meant that i must not be fated to live to see adulthood. to have any kind of future. i was very much an anne shirley kind of child, and i blame my fanciful imagination for that sense of certain doom, but i did believe it. i never expected to make it this far.

despite that, despite everything, here i am. raising kittens and seeing musicals and being celebrated by a chosen family who both love and like me, for who i actually am. i have a room of my own and the choice of how i spend my time, and i'm needed in the world. i'll never run out of things to learn, and make, and new friends to meet. no matter what's coming, i still do love my small, valuable life.

a lot can happen in 40 years, i now know from experience. i'm going to try and keep making mine better.

[ravenlynclemens]

lordy lordy look who's 40

[cherrycruise]

LORDY, LOOK WHO'S 40

[just-antithings]

Problematic song time!

Gorehound by Harley Poe: It’s a song about loving gore.

I Use My Powers For Evil by Lesbian Bed Death: Uhh… yeah, it’s exactly what it says.

My Sister Lover by Oasis: A straight up brother/sister incest love song.

Sign of the Crab by The Gits: Legendary Seattle punk/grunge/riot grrrl band, song about loving a serial killer and knowing he will murder her. Ironically the singer was stranger-murdered by a possible serial killer later and I first discovered the band via her case on Forensic Files.

Cannibal by Tally Hall: A song about being with a person who slowly consumes you and has done it to others but staying because you want to try to fill them up.

Partners in Crime by Set it Off: I mean the title is kinda obvious here.

Rape Me by Nirvana: Kurt repeatedly told people that no, it’s not a metaphor. The early 90s weren’t ready for a national rape kink conversation. It’s not a metaphor. It’s just Kurt’s kinky ass.

I Wanna Be Your Dog, the Joan Jett version: I find it hilarious to include a 40 year old song because it fits so well and the only reason it’s not seen as obvious is because it’s old. But also, on this topic, look up Dee Snider testifying before Congress.

The Kids Who Wanna Play With The Dead by Lordi: Meant more as a horror fandom anthem type song, but as the times have changed so too does the fit. Really fits here now, primarily obviously a subset but lyrically it’s less focused than the title is and more about, ya know, being what other people consider messed up and weird.

Kouhai by Shiki-TMNS: Lolicon rap.

Rape me was already in my playlist lmao. Also love tallyhall can't believe I forgot that banger.

[this-is-not-a-slow-burn]

I turn 47 in 8 days.

turning 30 didn't bother me at all. (however 35 was a little odd.)

Turning 40 I actively railed against all of the "over-the-hill" stuff. I didn't want any of the "Lordy lordy look who's 40!" cliche birthday cards, the balloons with mounds of dirt and "the hill" on them, or even "so, how's it feel to be 40?" Not because I didn't want the reminder, but because this obsession with "UGH OLD" in relation to younger people is so weird.

I would be a big fat liar if I said that being 40 was nothing, that I never think of things like aging and my own mortality, that "ugh i'm so old" has never passed my lips. But it's not a comparison to other younger people, or feeling inadequate or out of touch. It's about body changes, and life stages, about the chugging progression of entropy that we have no power over. The looking back and thinking, damn, I'm still here. Go me.

So fuck all the people telling you that you're wrong. They have no idea what they're talking about.

the older i get and the closer i am to reaching 30, the more the people around me try to deny me my age. it’s a constant ‘oh you’re just turning 29 again teehee 🤭’ or ‘dont tell your SO that, he’ll leave you for a younger model 😉’ and i just???? hate it?????????

i spent my entire teenaged years fighting for my life. i crawled through the deepest pits of my depression to cling to the promise of a life beyond that pain. i was so convinced that i was going to die young, that i would never see the grace of my age starting with a 2, let alone 3.

so im going to turn 30, and there’s not a damn thing anyone can do to stop me from loving it.

[taiblogcomics]

Lordy Lordy, Look Who's 40

Hey there, the Hall of Dangling Onions or Possibly It's Garlic. All right, it's not my usual update day, but we're not doing soda. It's only a day late, I can set my own schedule! I didn't expect to be out of town, and when you get a look at this thing, there's no way I was typing this up on my phone. I was holding onto this one because I wanted to do it as close to Decemberween as possible. MLP has done holiday specials before, but this one's not. But I think thematically, of the issues I have in my backlog, this one fits best here. I hope you'll agree~

Here's the cover:

Yeah! Can you believe that? My Little Pony is forty years old. Think about that a moment! Like, Ghostbusters won't be 40 until next year. The NES won't until 2025. I'm only 37 myself. (I'm 37, I'm not old!) That's wild, huh? Anyway, what's more on-theme for the holiday than kids receiving toys? Like, I think the only MLP toy my sister ever had as a kid was a Christmas one. (It was a G1 Merry Treat, if you were curious.) It just feels on theme. Man, though, I hate to say it, but I do not like this cover. These are some ugly little girls. Like, I don't necessarily like to insult the art styles for these, but maybe stick to drawing horses.

So we open on some rather static poses of some G1-style ponies. Butterscotch announces that Ponyville is in trouble. In fact, the world is ending. They debate this for a while, with Cotton Candy worrying this might be a problem too big for ponies. In G1, this might be so, but by the time of FiM, it's practically a daily event. But it's not an issue, because if there's one thing consistant for every generation of ponies: when they're together, they're unbeatable! Also, they have a secret weapon: this is all being made up by a little girl.

Yeah, the rather static poses and expressions is cleverly foreshadowing that these are all toys, and the scenario is all the imagination of our actual protagonist. She owns two of these figures, Snuzzle and Blossom. Cotton Candy and Minty belong to Tiffany, Butterscotch is Melanie's, and Blue Belle is Kelly's. Refer back to the cover. Starting from top left and going clockwise, you have Melanie, Tiffany, Julie (our protagonist), and Kelly. I hope you're getting all this, because there's absolutely a quiz on it later.

But indeed, this isn't a story about ponies. It's a story about the little girls who love them, which is a really neat idea for the 40th anniversary. Anyway, as you might expect from a group of pre-middle school girls who play ponies in Julie's basement all summer, they're also real horse girls. The lot of them are driven out to a barn where they hang out with some real ponies. And also being girls who are about to enter middle school as summer wanes, there's some angsting among them about remaining friends in the face of this new stage in life.

Now then! Given the G1 ponies, names like "Tiffany", and some of the dress sense, I think it's fair to say it's the 1980s in the comic. Maybe the early '90s at worst. So what's missing from this plot? How about a greedy man in a business suit threatening the continued existence of the farm~? Yes indeed, Julie overhears Mr. Pine in his office, discussing something on the phone. Tiffany sneaks off to the other line and hears the conversation: Grogar Developments (get it?) is planning to bulldoze the farm and build a mall. Oh good, you're almost in middle school, girls! You need a mall to hang out at!

The group resolves to let nothing happen to their favourite hangout, even forming a pinky promise over it. But the very next week, school starts up. The others give Julie their ponies so they'd always have a reason to return to her and to give her some extra courage. Alas, though, real life sets in and the friends begin to drift anyway, with the rigors of middle school both in and after school keeping them apart. Kelly in particular is being kept busy with her schoolwork while her parents glare at her from ten feet away. Even with the Asian stereotypes aside, no pressure, huh~?

Tired of waiting for her friends to call and also just tired in general, Julie drifts to sleep. Upon waking, she's siezed by an idea. In the middle of the night, she slips out and heads to the farm, which is indeed proposed for demolition. She finds a mysterious book under a haystack, and reads out a Latin phrase. Roughly translated (and by "roughly", I mean "I ran it through Google Translate"), it's something like "by the virtue of the universal knight this creature would send the life of addseer into his house". As usual, it probably loses a little something in translation.

The effort of casting a magic spell from a book she knew was hidden in the barn through a dream she had takes a lot out of Julie, and she falls asleep on the hay nearby. When next she wakes, she finds herself surrounded by… ponies! The six ponies that were once her and her friends' toys have been brought to life, expanded to full size. They've heard her plea, and have transported themselves over from Equestria to help her in her time of need. Honestly, this is a lot. Even knowing what franchise I'm reading, I did not expect this angle~

Julie tries to call her friends, who aren't willing to skip school to meet her at the barn. Are you sure they're your friends? Or even real kids, at that point? Before she can follow that up, Julie's surprised from behind and everything goes black. We cut over to the other three friends, who split up despite clearly riding to school together on the same bus. As the day goes on, though, they notice Julie is absent, and they decide to fake being sick and go after her. Oh, so skipping school entirely's a no-go, but ditching it early is just fine?

Upon arrival at the barn, they find Julie tied up and gagged, which is the second time I've had the "I did not expect this comic to go there" feeling. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice. Before they can help their friend, she indicates what's behind them. And they bear witness to their ponies come to life, just as she had. And here's where the third nickel drops: also behind them is Mr. Pine. He's a magician. And what I mean is that he's actually magic. It was his book that Julie found, and while he was content to just open a shopping mall, he'd be even more jazzed to open a portal between dimensions. Sure, we all would!

So, long ago, he was a wizard from Equestria, where he likewise planned to build a shopping mall. I mean, far be it from me to criticise one's magical ambitions, but… I think he could be shooting a little higher. Ah, but here's his grand plan as of now. With the kids in command of the ponies, perhaps they can persuade the tricky equines to open their portal and let him return. Where he can then open two shopping malls! Imagine! Slow down, we got a badass over here. But the girls refuse, telling him they don't control the ponies. They're friends with the ponies.

Cue a two-page spread of Magic Mr. Pine and his goons (yes, he has uniformed henchmen) fighting the girls all riding their magical ponies, all in front of a rainbow backdrop. Fantastic. The power of friendship and the strength of equine legs beat up the villains. And Magic Mr. Pine ends up sealed inside his own book. Victory!

And then Julie wakes up. Yep, it was all just a dream. No Magic Mr. Pine, no portal to Equestria, no book of Latin under the hay, and no talking horses. She never even left home. Before Julie can suck herself back into despair, her mom comes in to give her some good news. Seems the contractor decided to pull out of the deal and not demolish the farm. And even better, all three of her friends are here to cheer her up! They just heard the same news about the farm, and it's this good news that's pulled them together to apologise for their lack of communication lately.

So that was one story! Would you like another?

Well, we celebrated the G1 ponies. Let's leap to the other end of the timescale and do a G5 story! We open at the Brighthouse with Hitch helping to lift a heavy box to a higher level. With some strain, he manages to raise it, collapsing in a heap afterwards. Inquiring what the heck he just hauled, Sunny explains that it's books! It's her dad's old research into previous Equestrian societies. Izzy pokes through some of them, wondering what kind of place Fillydelphia was. Sunny replies that her dad believed they had magical sunshine every day. Oh, ha ha.

One of the dustiest books Sunny finds, however, is called "Tales of Dream Valley". The fun part of this is that, down to the font choice and rainbow banner, it really looks like an old G1 storybook. They find a page of character profiles, running commentary on each of them. Once again we're dealing with Butterscotch, Minty, Blue Belle, Cotton Candy, Snuzzle, and Blossom. This one also correctly names the G1 setting as Ponyland instead of Equestria. Izzy also notes that none of them are unicorns or pegasi, so maybe pony segregation has always been a thing.

The book then immediately contradicts my joke by focusing on Dream Valley, stating that Dream Castle was home to earth ponies, unicorns, pegasi, flutterponies, seaponies, grundles, and bushwoolies. Hitch wonders what bushwoolies are, and boy am I glad some things never came back for future series. Meanwhile, Izzy goes nuts over the concept of seaponies, deeply wishing to call upon them. Sunny points out that all of this could be just stories, and they should do more research. Let's go tell Zipp and Pipp about it, and maybe use the library at their place. This story ends as quickly as it began, with a dedication thanking MLP for being there for so many years and so many stories.

So that was another story! Would you like one more?

We open on a perfectly ordinary suburban-looking home. Like, a human-looking home. And indeed, first thing we see is a human woman coming downstairs to check on a young girl named Bonnie, who is watching an episode of G5 MLP on TV. Aunt Vicki can tell, but she questions why she has so many other screens also. Which Bonnie explains as also having the wiki open on the laptop, and using a tablet to look at MLP comics. She also has her phone out, to talk to her friend Kristen, who's watching at the same time. This kid is incredibly valid and relatable.

Suddenly a storm knocks out the power. While Aunt Vicki goes to check the breaker, Bonnie checks the status of her electronics. Like a fool, she's been running them all unplugged despite being at home, and the battery is at zero for all of them. Man, have you ever had three devices that all ran out of battery simultaneously? That's kind of impressive. But not very helpful for Bonnie's entertainment. Vicki comes back, noting the power's out all over the neighbourhood. So Kristen is probably powerless too, which doesn't cheer Bonnie up.

Aunt Vicki gets an idea, and hauls an old box out of her attic. Inside the box, they find Vicki's old G1 ponies. Minty and Butterscotch, who seem to be universal constants, are here again. Vicki also has a G1 Applejack, leading to Bonnie's confusion about the lack of hat. Vicki laughs at the differences between generations, remarking then that she also once had a Twilight. Not Twilight Sparkle, and not a book about vampires either. And then Vicki enters a lengthy flashback as she remembers her toy.

Way back in 1983, Vicki looked remarkably like her niece. She also had a friend she had an argument with. See, Jessie (her so-called best-friend-forever) went to a sleepover with Caroline and Chelsea and didn't even tell Vicki about it. Jessie points out that Vicki couldn't have even come, she was spending the weekend at her grandparents' house anyway. And she only got invited because her mom is friends with theirs. And turns out, they're pretty nice. So… what now? Is she gonna be their best friend instead?

This is also what Bonnie is wondering. What happened next was: nothing. Turns out you can be friends with multiple people, and the amount of friendship you spread around doesn't actually get smaller! Who knew~? As an apology, Vicki writes Jessie a note declaring this, gifting her Twilight as well. And this is basically the same story with Bonnie and her friend Kristen. Kristen went rollerskating with some other girl, and they fought about it. Bonnie wants to apologise, but can't because her phone's out. Vicki shares something else with her from the past: a land-line phone.

Yeah, I don't buy it. First, Vicki's not that old to still have a landline. If she was a kid in '83? Like, my mum doesn't have a landline, and she's at least 10 years behind that. Vicki's at most mid-40s. Nobody less than 70 has a landline anymore. Secondly, if the power went out, even the landline phones aren't working. That's how it always was when I was a kid. But despite reality, Bonnie calls up her friend and spends a merry time chatting with her, even missing the end of the storm and the beginning of a rainbow. And the comic ends with the power's return, while Vicki sends a photo of Applejack to Jessie, who sends back a pic of her with Twilight.

Well, as an anthology, we should react to the stories individually, yes?

Despite my criticisms, I do like the first story a lot! The premise is fun, and I'm a big sucker for the various '80s/'90s cliches and story beats. But with fair criticism, the art is amateurish at best and bogs the thing down. There's a lot of wasted space, empty backgrounds, and more than a few pages are huge splash pages that could be condensed. I don't think it ruins the experience, but it does dampen the whole thing. The ending is also kind of rushed. Once it dips back into reality, everything just kind of congeals to a finish. If the story had been paced a little better and less padded, it could've been really great.

The second story being set in the G5 universe is a fun spin on the formula, cheekily poking at the differences in the franchise between then and now. Both the art style and the oldness of the book are re-created perfectly. I only wish it was longer, and maybe had some sort of more definitive conclusion.

The third is very nice as well, with a more focused story about the differences in generations--and the things the same about them that bring them together. I like that this one at least brings up FiM a little bit, it seems a bit criminal to celebrate MLP's 40th anniversary and not mention the fourth generation, the one that had the most impact on the franchise's popularity and longevity. You think there'd even be a comic book for your 40th if it wasn't for Friendship is Magic? Highly doubtful. Anyway, Bonnie is relatable as heck with her ADHD screen spread, and she is right to be incredulous about Aunt Vicki's landline.

All in all, as a way to celebrate the franchise's 40th anniversary, this was a great idea. Not just stories about the ponies, but stories about the people ponies were meant for--both then and now.

[dragonstepp]

Oh lordy, lordy

It is nearly 5:00 in the morning here in Austin, and I have been drinking scotch (Highland Queen Majesty 16yo distilled in oak in the HIghlands) and looking at posts, and UTubes, and I have this to declared (and remember, I might just be a bit drunk).

I do not believe Sam and Cait are married. But if they are, what the fuck, who cares. I am 40 years older than he is, and don't have any romantic inclinations toward him, but if I did, I'm still too old for him, and certainly would not be an asset to him on any red carpet. Besides, I love him for his non-celebrity activities, so that is all a bunch of gossip to me.'

Second, I like this fellow who is 25 years old, has started following me (and I him), and is disabled because of child abuse, and can really identify with him because my mom abandoned my daddy when I was five (1946), and I also suffer from PTSD from a number a reasons, starting with losing my daddy when I was five, and having a step-dad who didn't like me (nor did my mother because she was jealous of me).

I lived in a fucking christian household due to my mom having the wrong ideas about christianity, and was denied a lot of stuff in high school where I should have had a great time.

The 60s. What a time for me. In the early days, I worked on a Dude Rance in Las Vegas (where my dad was living), and I was not a person anyone would to fashion themselves after me. I had two marriages that failed before was 24 (my fault, they were good men), and I gave birth to two daughters.

I moved back to Corpus Christi, TX in 1964, was in on the whole Beatles/Rolling Stones/Dave Clark 5/etc. revolution, and managed a merchant seamen's bar from 1964-1968. Sex was free, but birth control was not for single women. I gave birth to two more daughters in 1967 and 1969, I gave up all four daughters for adoption. I was a drunk. I did not believe I would live to the age of 30.

I saw Kennedy assassinated in 1963, MLK Jr. and Bobby in 1968, and a war that never stopped in Vietnam.

At the age of 30, I decided since I was still alive, I should change my ways and become a good citizen. I moved to austin in 1975, and worked 50 years of my life. I retired from the University of Texas in 2003. I worked during those years in Astronomy, public radio (and was a programmer of Celtic music during those years), and finally retired from the graduate studies department in 2003. I suffered from clinical depression and anxiety, was diagnosed with PTSD.

I was in therapy three times for suicidal thoughts, wrote my auto-biography in 2001, had a nervous breakdown in 2002, then covid and other things came along.

Today, at 82, I am sane; I love science fiction, college football (American), follow soccer, the Olympics (track and field, skiing, sledding, rugby, curling), am a pagan in the Celtic tradition, love everything Scotland, but suffer from arthritis in my knees (too much dancing and running) and shoulders, and love auto racing.

I am nuts about Sam Heughan, but he is 40 years younger than I am, and I mostly appreciate him for the things he does outside his celebrity.

I quite drinking when I was about 35, but these days, I drink Scotch, Gin, both from the Highlands, and order Scot-related foods from Amazon. My heart and soul belong to the Highlands. I watch a lot of sports on TV, enjoy car racing and science fiction, have a genius IQ (big deal), and my idea of heaven is where I will get all my questions answered. I am liberal socialist politically, support one regular organization that helps the downtrodden, hate Trump, and

that is about all you all need to know about me.

I am super intelligent, which does not go over with American men, but hay, what the hell, who cares. I am independent beyond imagination, and I love Tumblr. I was kicked off of Facebook, so my social networks are this one and Instagram.

Take me or leave me, but I am not your 82-year-old person, but your 82-year-young person who has seen a lot of life, and I will be alive as long as I can be.

Carol

[vausemania]

[scottsummers]

capcom wasn’t playing around when they made menat

[elvain]

OTP Questions: 36. Who’s better at dealing with emotional trauma? (for HarryFlash), 8. Who’s more likely to cry about a plant dying? (for GwenMJ), 40. Who’ll be the first to snap if someone makes a bad comment about the other person? (for Scarlet Witch/Vision), 52. Who whines the most when they get sick? (for SpideyTorch) 💖

god bless you for adding the questions in bc lordy

36. probably flash i think but the whole venom symbiote thing doesn’t bode well. can’t say harry tho. maybe yes final answer flash but only bc the bar is already so low

8. oh gwen for sure. mj looks at it and goes yoinks!

40. oh wanda no doubt about it (at least where i’m at, which is 1974!) because vision is still trying to repress his feelings lmao and wanda’s just like in it

52. johnny 100%. spoiled kid vibes off the charts and according to my latest fic i’m right!

OTP asks!

[alirhi]

10 Sebastian roles as boyfriends

Because... I'm bored and I feel like it. 😂 Probably some spoilers for, like... everything? So yeah... That.

Putting it under here for easy scrolling:

10: Chase Collins

Who doesn't love a goofball? In the first half of the movie, Chase is basically perfect. He's sweet, funny, not all caught up in his ego, and actually pays attention to what the girls around him are saying, not just to what he wants to hear. If not for the whole... it was all an act to get close to Caleb and try to steal his magic thing, Chase would actually be a damn good high school boyfriend. He's adorable and would be a fun date, but he's also only 18 so best not to start making long-term plans lol. Also, y'know... the whole psycho revenge/power grab thing.

9 Jack Benjamin

Y'all. Y'all. Words cannot describe how much I love Jack. Pretty sure I've made this clear. As a person/character in general, he's absolutely in my Top 3 - not just of Sebastian's characters, but any character ever. ❤ But as a boyfriend? Boy's got baggage. It's what makes me so protective of him, but seeing as how he's trapped in the closet thanks to his overbearing homophobic family and the insane expectations heaped on him, as the show left him, he can't handle an honest relationship. He's too easily influenced by all the wrong people, poor babe.

8 Chris (Destroyer)

On paper, undercover cop sounds cool and exciting, but even if you ignore the fact that he, y'know, dies... Chris got in too deep and kinda lost the mission, so to speak. Best case scenario, you're his sexy partner and in on it all with him and end up on the lam for the rest of your lives. Worst case, this man lies for a living, so can you even trust him? And... yeah. The whole dead thing. Chris is hot af but getting involved with him is a recipe for disaster.

7 Ben

Min and Hathor have mercy, I love Ben! He's smart, he's snarky, he's caring and loyal... he's an absolute disaster. He's another one who seems allergic to honesty, until his lying and avoiding nearly kill his girlfriend. Not exactly relationship goals lol. Everything before totally was, though! Ben's adorable, and I love how he stayed up all night to protect his girlfriend (from a ghost/demon thing... with a baseball bat. I said he was smart, not perfect, okay? XD points for effort lol)

6 Mickey Henry

I. LOVE. MICKEY. Oml I love Mickey. He's a spazz and - even more so than Ben - an absolute disaster of a human being, but I love him. Pros for dating Mickey Henry: he's fun, he's carefree, he'll cook for you even though he's kinda bad at it lol, he loves his son and wants to be a good dad, he wants his partner to be happy and to love life as much as he does. Cons, and the reason he's not higher on the list: He's a pushover; easily influenced by the toxic people in his life, and it gets him into a lot of trouble. Being easily influenced by toxic dumpster fire of a human being Chloe almost lost him the partial custody of his son that he barely even had. He's an absolute sweetheart, but he's a complete man-child, and dating him would often feel more like raising him.

5 Frank "Suffer Buddy"

Come on! You know he and Mickey had to be back-to-back - they're practically the same character! 😂 Frank is Mickey... slightly more grown up. He's still a disaster, but he's respectful of boundaries, he's caring, he's funny in a dry, witty way that I just adore, and hoo lordy that man is a giver! 🥴🥵 Honestly, if he didn't smoke and didn't ditch Daphne in the middle of a party hours away from everything familiar to her surrounded by strangers to go do drugs, I'd call Frank perfect. He listened, he respected her wishes, he tried to keep some distance between them when he found out she'd gone on a date with his best friend (it failed utterly and brought us to the "damn that man's good with his mouth" portion of the movie lmao but still)... I don't have a whole lot of experience with men who actually give a shit, okay? So Frank is like a goddamn unicorn to me lmao. But that drug thing... That keeps him at the bottom of the Top 5 for me. Sorry, bb

4 Bucky

I can already hear everyone on here raging at me for placing Bucky so low on this list, but hear me out: I love this man. I love all four iterations of this man. Flirty 40s Bucky was a doll (fun date, not commitment material). Post-POW camp 40s Bucky had a fire to him that set me on fire. The Winter Soldier can choke me any damn day. Unf. And TFATWS Bucky... Oh, lady above, 2023 Bucky is a gem! He's sweet, snarky, and broken. He feels utterly, wretchedly alone in the world, and everyone around him, including his only friend, is telling him to "man up" and "make amends" for shit that was never his fault to begin with, rather than helping him come to terms with all that he's suffered and all that he's survived. Bucky needs and deserves love. A relationship with him would be so solid, if he found the right person... But it would take a fuck ton of work. He needs someone strong, patient, and more stubborn than he is to prod him until he finds a better therapist and actually opens up, and to keep him on track because even good therapy comes with homework. He does have to "do the work," Sam was right about that much, but he was way off base with what that "work" is. Bucky needs help and understanding, and he would be an amazing boyfriend... if he found someone with the strength to help him weather his nightmares and flashbacks, and help pull him out of this PTSD pit he's been in since 1943.

3 Chris Beck

Big brains turn me on, okay? 😂This man is an astronaut and a surgeon! Yes, please! Come here, you sexy genius! He's smart, he's funny - pretty sure Sebastian is incapable of playing anyone who's not delightfully snarky lol. He's pragmatic when he needs to be but there's also nothing he wouldn't do or risk for the ones he loves. This man is husband material and I cannot be convinced otherwise! So why isn't he #1? Cuz of the whole... spending years in space, thing. Super cool job and I'd be his biggest fan on the ground, but god damn, I would miss him while he's away!

2 TJ Hammond

Look, I'm gender fluid and he's a little bit bi 😂😂😂 Let me have my fantasy, okay? TJ's definitely got a lot of shit to work through, but love brings out the best in him. Before that fucking closeted shitbag broke his heart and stomped on it for good measure, TJ was clean and sober for months, he was happy, he was playing piano again, he was pulling himself together. Not only would he be an amazing boyfriend, but his partner would get the extra joy of getting to watch their love and devotion to him be the thing that saves this beautiful man's life. It's not healthy overall to tie your self worth and will to live to a relationship, but if he found the right person who would be there for him through all of life's shit and stick it out, I think he'd be okay. Even after his lowest point and without the support of his family, TJ still had a dream and he still chased it. He's not just the sweetest person to ever grace our screens, but he's ambitious and business-savvy, too. Keep him off drugs and watch this man take over the world, I'm telling you!

So why is TJ only #2? Well, besides the fact that he's like 99% gay and I have no bits he'd be interested in lmao, there's also the fact that this guy owns my heart:

1 Will Franklyn

And not just because we get to see him wet and mostly naked lol. Will is fucking perfect. I would die for this man... because he's already shown that he would die for his love. He almost fucking did, and they weren't even together yet! He's smart and very aware, he's a writer so we'd get to bond/geek out over books together, he's not all full of himself (self-deprecating humor ftw!) and he's willing to help a total stranger despite actual mortal peril, just because it's the right thing to do. Fierce, intelligent, sassy, strong-willed, and a flawless moral compass? YESYESYESYESYES! Forget boyfriend - let me MARRY this man! 😍🥰

[oreosmama]

Can I request Yandere Bakugou, Todoroki, and Midoriya kidnapping a Fan Reader? Y/N is a fan but mostly those type of fans that admire from afar. But the reader can't handle being in the same room with the yandere. The reader gets all red and runs away. And if the yandere show affection, Y/N covers their face from embarrassment.

Kidnapping Fan Reader (Yandere BNHA Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: Ngl, this request is the bomb. Like seriously, I love ideas like these! Anyways, I’m gonna make these a lil long, and also I was a lil confused on how to make the reader a fan?? But I tried so here ya go. Please enjoy! (Side note: Good Lordy these are long😳😳 my bad)

Word count: 3814

Bakugou Katsuki:

As a pro hero, Bakugou was initially quite frightening to you. 

You were a nobody, just someone who always happened to be in the crowd whenever he had a person to save, but then your view of him changed when one day he saved a kitten from a tree in the park. 

It was the first time you had ever seen him so… calm. There was even a hint of a smile on his face when the cat chattered at him. Then, of course, he noticed you creepily watching him. 

A blush encompassed your face but before he could shout at you for watching him, you had dashed away with your hands on your cheeks. 

At first, Bakugou was confused. What a dumbass.

But then it was like he was seeing your blushing face everywhere. No one had ever looked at him like that-- like he was cute. 

Months passed, and you couldn’t help but notice the hero Ground Zero had become partial to patrolling your part of town for any danger. 

You brushed it off, counting it as a blessing since you often got to see him on the rooftop across from your apartment building, just surveying the street below. 

If only you had known that he was only watching you.

Bakugou couldn’t believe how stupid you were, leaving your window so open and bare for anyone to peer inside. Anyone could watch and see how you curled up on your couch to read a book. They could see how you would slowly fall asleep, head dropping back as a bit of drool dribbled down your chin. Any loser stupid enough to look through the glass would see how your shirt became rumpled as you shifted in your sleep. It was large enough to slip off one shoulder and leave your untainted skin bare for anyone to corrupt. 

God, it was like you were teasing him, daring him to come take what was his. Bakugou would teach you a lesson or two about toying with him. 

The wind blew through your open window. You always left it cracked since your AC was a bit fickle. And as you dozed off to sleep, you were almost certain that squeaky noise that reminded you to buy a little WD-40 once in a while was only a dream. 

Licking his lips, Bakugou slid open your window, cringing as it whined with the movement. “Shit,” he hissed under his breath, pushing it up the rest of the way. Thankfully, you were already knocked out, soft snores falling from your lips in a steady pattern. 

He couldn’t help but glance around your apartment, snickering at the sight of a poster in your open bedroom. It was from a photoshoot of his from when he first debuted as a pro hero. You had purchased the partially shirtless version. 

Surely you wanted this too, then.

And with that logic, he didn’t worry when your eyes fluttered open after he picked you up. 

Mind foggy, you were rudely awakened from your dream about a certain pro hero when you felt your body being lifted. The perpetrator made you wonder if you were still dreaming. 

“Ground Zero?”

“It’s Katsuki, babe. Call me Katsuki from now on.” His arms felt like solid metal, caging your knees and side to his chest as he carried you bridal style to your- open window?!

“W-what are you doing?” He snickers at this.

“Oh please. Don’t act all innocent now. I’ve seen your poster of me, and how you blush whenever I stop a villain in front of you. You want me, YN. And I want you too.”

“Please, I don’t want this!” You struggle in his arms, placing your hands on his chest to push him away but he doesn’t budge. 

“You little tease,” he hisses, using his arms to hold you over the ten story drop that was your open window. “I know what you like.” Fear leaves your body trembling as you default to your instincts, wrapping your arms around his neck so as to not fall to your death. Bakugou grins at this. “You think I don’t know how to read you by now?”

“Please don’t.” 

“Oh, don’t worry babe. I’m taking you home.”

And with that, he hops out of the window and explodes his way through the skies, reveling in the way you cling to his body so tightly. Your whines and whimpers were so cute. Almost as adorable as the blush you used to always wear around him.

It only takes a year to break you. 

In his own home, he kept you locked up tightly. Every window was barred and every door to freedom had six locks, each matching the keys he dangled on his fingertips every time he came home. 

In the first few weeks, you were scared of him and what he would do. Then a month later, you determined his attitude: he was naturally loud and volatile, but he would never hurt you. From then on, he expected you to act a certain way.

Cook him dinner, greet him with a kiss, sleep in his arms, and never try to escape. 

It had been a struggle to get you to agree to the pattern, but after months and months of practice, you finally got in the groove. 

Bakugou even got to see that classic blush of yours whenever he arrived home and peppered your face with kisses. 

Totally worth it.

Todoroki Shouto:

With Todoroki, you’re just a minor student in the Support class of UA, but everytime you cross paths with him in the halls, you let out a squeak and sprint past him. 

Todoroki tried to shake it off. Of course, you weren’t the first person to be wary of him and his abilities. Honestly, it was nothing new and he had a mark to prove it. 

Really, it’s true. Todoroki thought you hated his guts. You always avoid talking to him and hide your face whenever he comes into a room. He thought that was a red flush of anger on your face. 

It’s only when Kaminari groans about how jealous he is over the whole thing. 

“Ugh, Todoroki, you’re so lucky. Why does a hottie like YN have to be whipped for a guy like you?!”

Todoroki just shrugs and walks away, but it only hits him later in his dorm that “Oh shit, that’s what that is.”

He’s all like, “Hmm, makes sense.”

It doesn’t make sense, but he still likes you.

He’s not really sure why, he just does. Todoroki’s never had a girl that acted like you around him. Acted like he was this great person worthy of admiration, whether from a distance or up close. 

The thought of you begins to leave fuzzy feelings in his chest. You? Whipped for him? Nu-uh, no way.

But God, then he notices the way you smile when he enters a room, just before you hide your face. And the way you stutter and fumble over your feet to run away when he talks to you. 

With a quick Google search, he deduces that these are all signs of a crush. 

Oh. Ohh. Well… Todoroki kind of liked that. 

And the next day, he was determined to talk to you. He wanted to see those cherry cheeks up close, and those little flecks of color in your eyes as well. He wanted to see your pupils dilate and your lips fumble for words because you were speechless at the sight of-

What.

A man. No, not a man. An unworthy piece of shit was talking to you. Making you laugh and giggle enough that a rosy tint fell on your face. He was too close for comfort, only inches away from brushing your hand with his. 

Todoroki had to stop this. 

In seconds, he’s covered the distance between you two, feet stomping against the floor loud enough to gather the attention of most in the classroom. He had barged into your classroom to talk to you.

“T-todoroki,” you stutter pathetically, eyes wide as you scramble to hide your face. Blood had risen to the skin of your neck, clear as day thanks to you turning your head to the side. 

“YN, I need to talk to you.” With a hard glare at the other guy, the Class 1A student latches a cold hand over your wrist and tugs you out of the classroom, other students watching in awe at the display. 

“W-what are you-” you cut yourself off and curse under your breath, heat gathering in your face. God, you hated how you couldn’t control yourself in front of him.

Todoroki loved it.

“Shh, just come with me,” he hushes, dragging you into a nearby janitor’s closet just as the bell rings.

“But we need to get to class,” you choke out, proud of how you kept your words steady this round. Butterflies flutter in your abdomen when he pulls you into the tiny room, closing the door behind him before turning to you. 

“We can skip for a bit.” Heterochromatic eyes burn into your own, leaving you ducking your head and scuffing your shoes on the floor. 

“Why-” your question falls from your lips when Todoroki begins to leer closer to you. The sudden proximity leaves you stumbling back until you hit a wall, gulping when his forearms cage you in, one on either side of your head. 

“I didn’t like that, YN.”

“L-like what?”

“That guy,” he seethes. A heat begins to flow off him, growing hot enough to make your forehead perspire. The other half of your body is almost numb, slowly fading into the first dead twinges of frostbite. One of your cheeks feels sunburned while the other is completely desensitized. “He shouldn’t have been touching you.”

Was this a dream? This boy, a soon-to-be pro hero and one of the top in the school, had cornered you in a closet with his face inches away from yours. You didn’t even know he knew you existed. You had always watched from afar, first falling for his aloof looks at the sports festival. 

And now… you just didn’t know. 

“I can’t let that happen again, YN. I just can’t let you run around talking to other guys, laughing and being so close to them when you know you’re mine.” 

What was he going on about?

“Not anymore,” he finally adds, pressing his forehead against yours and staring into your eyes. 

It doesn’t dawn until it happens that he had grabbed a cloth off a shelf in the janitor’s closet. The sickly sweet smell of chloroform invades your senses as you scream in surprise.

You couldn’t help it after a while. You were so tired. And as your vision fades to black, Todoroki purses his lips and wraps his spare arm around your waist. “Not anymore,” he mutters.

You had always known the Todoroki family was loaded. Though it’s not why you liked him, you couldn’t avoid the fact that he used it to his advantage-- especially with you. 

He had bought a small apartment only a few blocks away from UA and decked it out with soundproof walls, bulletproof glass, and locks on everything. 

The one bedroom-- your bedroom-- was beautiful. Silk sheets on a king-sized bed, canopy overhanging it like a protective curtain. There was a bookshelf and a television for your entertainment, along with a window seat so you could see the outside-- the glass was tinted, of course. He didn’t want anyone invading your privacy. 

A closet was filled to the brim with clothing of your size, all fitting like they had been tailored for your body alone. As much as you hated to admit it, Todoroki treated you like a queen. A kidnapped one, yes, but a queen nonetheless. 

He was only waiting for the day that you would ask him to join you on that large, lonely bed of yours. 

Midoriya Izuku: 

In all sense of the word, you were his fan. Really, there was nothing more to it. 

You would flock to all his fights, simply amazed by his power and will. He was a hero, pure and kind to all with an open mind for everyone, and you admired that. 

It also didn’t hurt that Deku was attractive. Rippling muscles hid behind a green costume, almost too similar to the retired hero All Might’s. Freckles dusted over the bridge of his nose and onto the tips of his cheeks, giving him an almost boyish look, but there was something in his eyes. Something you couldn’t see unless he looked directly at you- Oh!

You glanced away with a blush after the number one hero looked up from tying down the villain he had captured. He must have felt your eyes and saw you staring like a hawk-- how embarrassing!

Of course, you weren’t the only one watching him. There was an entire crowd gathered to see the pro hero do his thing. It was only awkward that he had made eye contact with you of all people. What made it worse was that he had smirked. 

Not even his normal, everyday smile that he gave to everyone, but a sly, devious little quirk of his lips. It looked so foreign on his face, and it felt like he knew something you didn’t. 

Ugh, how embarrassing.

You couldn’t hide the heat on your cheeks so you decided to abandon the group of fans, leaving them to watch the rest of Deku’s and hoping to catch up on the news later that night. 

If only you knew that wouldn’t be the first time he had noticed you in a crowd. 

Deku had been watching you for weeks. You were just so adorable, he couldn’t help himself. And honestly, deep down he sees himself in you. There’s a strength behind your eyes, a confidence to do something, and a will to make things happen. 

Deku wanted to help you discover how great you are. In the beginning, at least.

Now, it’s become more of an obsession. 

Under the guise that he wants to see what quirk or potential you have, he’s fallen into the habit of watching you in his spare time. 

No, it’s not stalking. He’s just making sure you’re safe. 

Somewhere during this process of wanting to get to know your life, he’s discovered that you’re perfect. Not only for him, but for everybody. 

You were kind to others, always handing out compliments and taking the high road in arguments. So pure, so untouched. Deku wanted to keep it that way. 

It was all the better when he had followed you home one day and saw it-- the home screen of your phone. It was a picture of him taken by a local fansite. Dramatic flames had been photoshopped behind his outlined form, and even Deku had to admit he looked good. The picture had caught every detail, every indent of his body the hero suit clung to and enhanced. 

He caught you biting your lip and clicking your phone off with a blush before continuing home. 

Deku just knew he had to tease you more. 

What he felt wasn’t fluffy at all. It was intense. A deep, possessive side of him had been unlocked the more he followed you. One day, he knew he had to do something about it. 

Another kidnapping, another villain fought, and as expected, you were among the crowd of spectators. Deku figured you were just as addicted to him as he was to you.

You must’ve been. It was the only explanation. 

You wiggled your way through the crowd all the way to the edge, right where you could peek between all the surrounding people and catch a glimpse of the battle. 

Blood poured from a gash in Deku’s head as he dodged another swing from the villain. 

He hasn’t been moving his legs much, surely I can strike… now!

With a swift kick of his foot, Deku cracked the villain’s kneecap with enough force to make him crumple to the ground. His audience cheered at the sight and news reporters began smiling at their cameras, announcing to their viewers at home that the number one hero had won yet another battle.

While he kneeled down on the villain’s back, his gaze wandered the crowd. 

Where? Where is she? Where’s YN? 

Panic struck his heart when he couldn’t find you in your usual front row spot. No, you were here. You had to be.

His ears perked through all the jabberings of the crowd at the sound of a single camera clicking. Eyes darting back and forth, he finally spotted your signature phone case, with a chibi version of his own face on the back. 

Relief floods his system all before that familiar rush of arrogance that always comes with you watching him takes over. As soon as he finally catches your eye, he throws you a wink.

The outcome is certainly not disappointing. 

Oh my God, he just winked at me. 

You blanch at the sight before your throat releases a little squeal of excitement. You hadn’t even opened your mouth, but apparently it was still audible from thirty feet away. 

You’re almost positive steam is blowing from your ears by the time Deku begins chuckling, green eyes twinkling in glee. 

 Before you could spontaneously combust, you hightail it out of there, shouldering through the crowd and tearing cheek all the way to your house like a bat out of hell. 

“That did not just happen!” You slam your apartment door behind you, coughing and heaving breaths as it had been a while since you ran a goddamn marathon. 

“Oh my God, kill meeeeee,” you whine, running your hands down your face before flopping backwards onto the couch. Evidently, you had accidentally sat on your remote, as the television clicks on and scares the shit out of you. 

“Number one hero Deku defeated the villain only twenty minutes ago, right outside this gas station. Now, we do have footage, but we must warn that it may be graphic for some viewers.”

Your eyes drift to the screen as it switches to footage of the actual fight. Deku takes a hit right to the forehead, leaving a small gash before he dodges and jams the heel of his foot into his opponent’s kneecap, dropping him in seconds. The footage drags on for a few more seconds, and your face burns at the sight of him winking and snickering. 

“They actually got footage of that?!” Part of you is mortified that people all over the city had now seen that (and you’re a bit surprised that it was even real), but the other half is almost glad that it was you he had done that for. Your heart warms at the thought.

“I know, right? I kinda want to save that video now. If only they had caught your cute little blush too.” The sudden voice leaves you lying rigid on your couch. It’s a man’s, and it sounds way too cheerful for your average robber.

“Who are yo-” you cut yourself off when the man comes into view, taking your breath away. 

“Hi darling,” Deku grins. A rough hand peels away from his side to brush the hair away from your face, not faltering when you flinch away. 

“Deku…?” You try to sit up but in an instant, he’s straddling you, one leg on either side of your hip while his face nuzzles against yours. 

“God this is a dream come true, don’t you agree?” 

“How…?” Your mind has truly gone blank, even as your mouth gapes like a fish. 

“Don’t you agree?” Deku repeats insistently. The knees on either side of your hips have begun to press against you with bruising force. His hands trail up and down your arms slowly, just trying to feel you. 

“Why are you here?”

Deku huffs and pulls away, only to press his forehead against yours. “C’mon YN, I know you’re smarter than that.” Rude. “I’m here so we can finally be together!” 

Your hands tremble at your sides. There’s a definitive edge to his tone that makes you understand there’s no other way out of this.

“... You want to be together, right?” Only a second ago, he looked so dangerous and now his eyes are watering. Who exactly had you fallen for? 

“Deku… we don’t know each other.” It was then that you discovered there was nothing more awkward than reassuring a random man straddling your lap. The awkwardness only increased when his tears began to drip down onto your face. 

“YN, please don’t make me do this.” 

“Do what?” 

“I really didn’t want to do this, but I can see now there’s no other way.”

“Deku,” you don’t like the low timber that has grown into his tone, “what are you doing?” 

There was no point in fighting. Deku was a pro hero, number one at that. He’d trained for years, perfecting his body and his quirk, and the best you’ve ever done is buy a gym membership and never use it. 

That’s exactly why no matter how you pushed against his broad shoulders, his toned chest, or even tried to knee him where the sun didn't shine, you couldn’t stop him from pulling the cloth out of his pocket and laying it over your face. 

“Shh,” he couldn’t hold back his tears as you struggled. “Please don’t fight it, YN. Just breathe it in and I promise we can be together forever. Just breathe.”

You wanted to keep fighting. You didn’t want to go where this insane, batshit hero would inevitably take you. But God…

You were so tired…

The next time you wake up, the sun is shining through a nearby window. What you assume is a bed lies beneath you, enveloping you in it’s soft covers. 

Solid, muscular arms are wound around you like a barrier, and you finally take note of what had woken you up.

Pain. Teeth are nibbling at the skin of your neck, no doubt leaving marks.

“Please stop,” you say, voice scratched from little use. The thigh that has worked its way between the two of your own presses higher against your sensitivity, shifting with excitement as Deku smiles.

“Good morning, darling! Welcome to your new home!”

[loulovestowrite]

Also, have I mentioned there’s a guy at work? 

(Oh Lordy. Just writing that again is giving me PTSD flashbacks…)

Anyway. Where I was I? Oh, yes.

There is a man who I have seen around the hospital. The first time I noticed him I was in the cafe with our CL nurse having a coffee and I kept noticing him looking over at me. He clearly wanted me to meet his gaze. I’m pretty good with faces but had no recollection of ever meeting him or seeing him before, but to avoid being rude in case I had forgotten him, I gave him a big smile (and maybe a little hair toss and twirl…).

We see each other around about twice a week since then. Always in the same corridor and always when we are running in different directions.

We make eye contact. We smile. The eye contact lingers longer than it’s meant to. We keep on with our days.

On Tuesday we collided around a corner and both kind of panic stopped. I waited for him to say something seeing as he’s the one who started all this. And he goes…

“Hello.” Gives me a huge smile. Pauses. Frozen. Takes a breath as if to say something. Then turns and basically bolts back the way he came.

A grown man. Probably late 40s. Fantastic clothing. From the way he dresses he has to be some kind of senior consultant. Medical admin don’t dress that way and neither do the senior male nurses. A man who looks as if he is confident and has his shit together. 

Yet he ran away from me after initiating contact.

And I’m really not sure what to make of that other than to laugh.