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[balamowing1]

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[swordsandholly]

Steel Magnolia

Part 1 - paused

Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!plus size!reader

No use of y/n

Rating: Mature/MDNI

Word Count: 2.1k

Author’s Note: I just recently got back into fandom spaces and reading fanfic again and looooove the uptick in fat Y/N characters. Ofc as a big girl myself I wanted to try my hand at writing one too.

Hopefully I’ll post this on AO3 soon. Whenever I get my invite so I can make an acc.

“Oh! Darlin’, did ya see those boys next door?” Mrs. Duprey gasps as you swipe the last of her Bubble Bath OPI polish across her fingers.

“Next door?” You cock an eyebrow. “No one’s been next door since Adam and Eve.”

“I saw them on the way in!” She grins, the corners of her eyes wrinkling pleasantly. “Strappin’ young men - y’should talk t’ ‘em.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m sure I will sooner or later, ma’am.”

“You’ve been single too long.” The nosey old bat contributes. As much as you love her she truly cannot leave well enough alone.

“And I’m perfectly content as such.” You give her your warmest smile.

The trailer home across from you has remained empty for as long as you can remember. It’s well kept - sometimes you see random gardeners mowing or going in an out with tool bags - but no one lives there permanently. You’d think in a beach town it would at least belong to some snowbirds. A timeshare, maybe. It’s none of those things, though. Just a well-maintained, perfectly empty husk.

There’s a metaphor in there somewhere, probably.

Sure enough, as you walk Mrs. Duprey out of your little single wide trailer, you spot a black SUV parked out front of the neighboring double wide. One that is definitely *not* a repair man or worker’s vehicle. She coos at you to make sure to talk to them before waddling off to her own car. She really shouldn’t be driving at her age. You wonder briefly - futilly- if she’d sell you her car in exchange for rides.

You suppose she’s right - even if it is for the wrong reasons. You’re not particularly interested in flirting with the new neighbors. After all, don’t fuck where you eat is a saying for a reason, but it wouldn’t exactly be neighborly to not introduce yourself. Especially with all the people coming and going from your home for your nail tech services. The old Yankee’s catty-cornered from you still believe that you're a drug dealer. At least they only come down for a couple months of the year.

Despite your staunch decision not to flirt, you still find yourself adjusting your clothes. Maybe the sports bra as a top is a bit much…

Fuck it. If they live here now they’ll see you in worse.

You fix your lipstick and throw on your platform sandals. The ones that clip-clop as you walk. Maybe it will help announce your presence.

The screen door wraps quietly as you knock. You take two steps back on the front, wooden porch so as not to come off too aggressively. As the seconds tick by you debate on knocking again. Maybe they’re out. Or busy. They did just move in today, most likely. Maybe you should-

The door creaks slightly as it opens. A very, painfully handsome man pushes the screen door until it clicks in place. “Afternoon, lassie.”

You blink stupidly as he crosses his strong arms and leans on the doorframe. His eyes are a striking shade of blue - somehow both sharp and soft. His dark hair is shaped into a slightly grown-out, un-styled mohawk. It fits him oddly enough.

“I, uh,” you take a deep breath. Christ you need to get laid if just *looking* at a hot guy has you this off kilter. “I live across the way. Just wanted t’ say welcome t’ tha neighborhood.”

That lopsided smile on his face grows into a grin. You don’t miss the way his eyes catch on your chest. “Aye? Nice tae meet ye. Names John MacTavish. M’friends call me Johnny.”

He gives your hand an extra little squeeze after shaking it. That accent might as well have you on the floor. You continue to blink dumbly, watching the at the scar on his chin stretches as he speaks.

Christ almighty, you’re pathetic.

“Nice to meet’ya.” You give him a warm smile, tilting your head to the side slightly. “Ya’ll here for vacation? We don’t get many Europeans ‘round here.”

He chuckles. It’s low and rumbling and would probably feel wonderful with your ear pressed to his chest. “Little bit o’ business, little bit o’ pleasure. This an’ tha’.”

“Hello, there.” Another man pops up from behind Johnny suddenly. Fucking hell, he’s gorgeous too. Older, for sure, with a uniquely cut beard that would probably look rather silly on anyone less handsome. At it stands, he manages to make it appear dignified.

“Ah, jus’ about tae call fer ye, Cap. This is our neighbor.” Johnny gestures toward you.

“John Price.” The man steps forward to shake your hand. It’s firm and professional and thank god your grandad made you practice a good handshake as a kid or you’d be painfully embarrassed.

“Are all UK men named John or is this just some sorta cult?” You blurt, unable to stop yourself from snickering at them.

Older John chuckles at you fondly, his facial hair giving him a pleasant U-shaped smile. “Be easier to remember that way, wouldn’t it? No, we’re with two others. Kyle and Simon. They’re out at the moment.”

“Kyle and Simon.” You repeat, nodding. Johnny, John, Kyle, Simon. “Are y’all in town long?”

“Indefinitely.” Is all Price gives you. It’s a tone that even someone as dense as you can recognize as ‘don’t ask more.’

You clap your hands together and smile a little wider, ready to make your exit. “Well, I’m not here t’be a bother, just wanted t’ welcome ya and, uh, let y’know that I have a lot of people over throughout the day - I’m a nail tech. They shouldn’t bother ya but y’know.”

“Ye can come bother us anytime, bonnie.” The Scot hits you with that grin again and your face suddenly feels far too hot.

A loud, whining screech sounds off from down the road. You check your watch. Holy shit, three-thirty already. You begin to back off the porch. “Ah, nice t’ meet ya again! See ya ’round!”

As you jog down the little dirt road of the trailer park another black car passes you. It’s smaller, a sedan. You make very brief eye contact with a blonde wearing a surgical mask and another man with the sharpest golden eyes you’ve ever seen - even through the tint of the window.

*Kyle and Simon,* you think.

You make a mental note to greet them at some point and continue down the street. The school bus slowly stops at the entrance and you take up your spot in the small crowd of parents. IT’s a shabby old bus - chipping paint and break pads that sounds like they’re about ready to snap. It’s all they’re willing to send out to your little section of the city, though.

Shelby meanders over in your direction, her usual Camel Crush lit up in one hand and the other teasing her already well-lifted hair. “Afternoon. Saw there was some new folks across from ya.”

“Hm?” You keep your eyes on the bus. “Ah, yeah. Just vacationers, I think.”

“Lookers, though.” She chuckles.

“They’re from the UK.” You offer.

“No shit!” Shelby stamps out her cigarette as the bus doors open. “Accent and all?”

“Yep.” You grin.

Shelby tsks and fiddles with her hair again. “I best go over an’ make myself known, then.”

“There’s an older fella with a neat beard. Think you’d like ‘em.” You snicker.

She hums. “I’ll bring a pie.”

The children practically burst out of the bus doors, as always. Ready to be home and shuck off their backpacks to their respective adult. Shelby’s son almost knocks her over, offering a little “Good afternoon, ma’am!” to you before heading off with his mother.

You nod to him, shoving a hand in your pocket as you wait for yours. She’s always the last. Always caught up in a book or something and doesn’t realize it’s time to get off of the bus. Sure enough, the driver has to call back to her before the little girl comes dashing out. She jumps off of the bus steps, despite being told time and time again not to, and kicks a rock on her way toward you.

You bow low for her. “Welcome home, Lady Sophie.”

She giggles, dark curls bouncing as she skips over. “Ni-ni!”

You take her bag from her. The thing really does dwarf the poor six year old. Her hand slips into yours easily. Soft and round and somehow always so much warmer than yours.

“My nail color chipped!” She announces, holding up her ring finger on the opposite hand.

“Oh! Now we can’t have that. I’ll fix it tonight.” You smile, waving at old Mr.Chester as the two of you pass.

“Well now!” He calls. “How blessed am I to see two such lovely ladies!”

You both giggle, continuing on your way. He’s a good landlord - spotted you more than a few times when Sophie was a baby and you couldn’t work consistently. Honestly, as you look around, the little community that he’s managed to build in this shitty corner of the world should be praised. Housing just enough snowbirds to cover his property costs while keeping rent low for the full time locals. Maybe you could convince Natalie at the paper to run a little story on it or something.

As you pull up to your own home, the blonde man is outside leaning on the front of their double wide. Seeing him standing at full height makes your blood run cold. The man is built like a damn barn - tall and wide. Beyond solid. *Brick shithouse*. It’s a bit weird that he’s covered in clothing head to toe but whatever. Weirder things have happened before. The mask still covers his face, you wonder if he had taken it off before you came up or just flipped it up to smoke.

“Sophie, head on in. I’ll catch up.” You push her toward the door. She scampers in, the screen door slamming behind her as you march up to the brick shithouse of a man in front of you.

“Which are ya? Kyle or Simon?” You smile, holding out your hand to shake.

Dark eyes rake over you, stopping briefly on your hand, before moving back to meet yours. He stomps out the half smoked cigarette. “Simon.”

You let your hand drop. Bit rude, this one. “Nice t meetcha.”

The other man pops his head out of the trailer. Kyle, you assume. “Oh. Hello.”

“Hi.” You smile as warmly as you can, giving your name. “I’m assumin’ yer Kyle.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “I’m guessing you’re the neighbor Price mentioned.”

You nod, about to speak again but Simon shoves past you, marching his way up the steps. “Let’s go.” He grunts, pushing the other man back into the trailer despite his protests.

You wrinkle your nose at him. What an asshole.

“Who’s tha’?” Sophie asks over the back of the old, worn couch as you let the trailer door slam behind you.

“New neighbors.” You say simply, glancing out the window. “Don’t go over there without me, yeah?”

“Okay!” She agrees, sitting back on the couch and bouncing, beginning her usual post school chant. “Bluey! Bluey! Bluey!”

You drop her backpack down beside the small coffee table. “After yer homework.”

“Nooo!” She pouts.

“Then no Bluey.”

Sophie pouts harder but crawls down in front of the coffee table and pulls out her little work sheets. At least the school doesn’t over run them too terribly with homework toward the end of the year. You glance at the calendar. Wednesday, May 22nd. Damn, she really only has about a week left. Though, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to this summer break with her. She’s old enough now that you can take her places like the arcade without having to wait on her so much. You’ll actually be able to play some of the two-player games.

Plus, this year, you actually have a little more pocket change to make it fun.

You turn to look out the window once more at the new neighbors. Their curtains remain closed, cars neatly parked out front. The door opens slowly, the hot Scot and rude blonde wander to the Sedan. Simon’s shoulders shake at something Johnny said - you think he’s laughing but its hard to tell with that mask. Johnny’s head turns, blue eyes meeting yours through the shitty glass windows of your trailer. You squeak and duck to sit next to Sophie, praying that he didn’t catch you staring.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Punk Biker Floyd Leech

In a world that’s in a very distant future where cybernetics and AI have advanced the world beyond normal means

Individual desires are at an all time high

Now the days of meet-cutes and noble rebels were the stuff of ancient history

In a world where everyone’s so focused on themselves there are a select few who try

One of them being you 

Working hard enough to become the mayor of one of these decrepit cities 

You’re working your hardest to change this outlook 

And so far it’s actually going pretty well 

For the first time in awhile they’ve felt such warmth

since you’ve allocated the funds usually meant for the mayor’s paycheck 

But there’s a glaring problem 

The Underbelly–a part of any city that’s filled with the poorest and most desire-driven people

And no one represents that better than Leader of the biker gang of the Underbelly–Floyd

“Hey mini mayor, care to loosen up? Go for a ride?”

“Not this again Floyd! I’m trying to do something.”

“Aww are you the one who’s been putting up these cutesy little posters?”

“Yes, why?”

“I’ve been takin’ them back to my place, cause they look like cute napkins.”

“FLOYD!?”

Floyd Leech in this world is a mystery to most 

Feared by all

As an heir of the Mafia that’s running half the planet Floyd’s signature for his wildness and unpredictable attacks

One day he’s steam plowing through smaller gangs by mowing them down with his custom motor bike

But on another day he’ll be seen standing behind the mayor as you give your address to the people

Like his other actions, it’s seems so random

And it’s not that you nailed him right away that makes him interested

Honestly when his friend Azul asks him why he’s so protective of you, he can’t say one thing in particular

You always look him directly in the eyes when you have something important to say

You do sigh but you’re never annoyed with his antics

When he sneaks into the office knowing your in there still working, you so easily lean into his arms as he carries you to the sofa you have

He doesn’t really know exactly why but he doesn’t care 

Not anymore

All he knows is that for once he’s got a real tangible reason to do what he does

For once when he crushes the skull of a politician it’s because they tried to frame you

For once instead of just doing whatever's fun he thinks about you 

Will you show him that adorable upset face if he burns down this orphanage

Will you hug him again if he get’s the convicts to participate in community service

It’s all he can think about now 

And he’s decided he’d want nothing less

“Ne~Mini Mayor wear this for me.”

“Is this your earring? The one you choose to leave off for the style?”

“Yeah.”

“Hehe wouldn’t you want to keep this just in case you wake up with a need for good outfit?”

“Wear this when you come down to the Underbelly.”

“Oh yeah what’ll it do help you find me?”

“Something like that. Just promise you’ll keep it on you for me.”

“I will Floyd. I will.”

[666writingcafe]

Quick-Fire Headcanons (12)

Asmo will dance in the car while he’s stuck at a traffic light.

Barbatos gets a thrill out of haggling.

Simeon gets mistaken for an employee wherever he goes; it doesn’t help that he basically enables people’s behavior.

Mammon wants to ride all of the rollercoasters at an amusement park.

Diavolo would spend all of his money on carnival games if Barbatos and Lucifer didn’t stop him.

Lucifer is usually so tired that he doesn’t care if his feet stick out of the covers as he sleeps.

People would assume that Solomon is tone deaf, but he actually has near-perfect pitch.

Levi and Diavolo would make excellent DJs.

A little-known fact about Beel is that he’s really good at beatboxing.

Asmo can turn anything into a musical instrument.

Diavolo has a tendency to celebrate anniversaries on the wrong day, but because he’s the Demon Prince, everyone around him simply moves the date of the original anniversary to whatever day he wants to celebrate it.

When Cerberus was a puppy, Lucifer took lots of pictures of him and showed them to everyone he knew.

Mammon has volunteered to help with someone’s event before, but then turns around and sends them a bill, demanding that they pay him for his service.

Asmo has mailed envelopes full of glitter to his enemies before.

Satan and Simeon both have binders full of essays on why they were right, but only Satan will crack his open to use in an argument.

Mammon and Asmo draw on the chalkboard when the teacher is out of the room.

Barbatos and Lucifer are certified in Devildom first aid training.

Simeon once mowed Purgatory Hall’s yard at 1 am as he was sleepwalking (scaring Luke and Solomon in the process).

Belphie will often leave new rolls of toilet paper on top of the toilet, much to the chagrin of all of his brothers and MC.

Beel cannot have any drinks in Styrofoam cups because he will squeeze the cup so hard that he punctures it and loses his drink.

Simeon and Lucifer still have the default background for both their computer and phone.

Solomon would feed seagulls (and other birds) laxatives.

Luke really likes pancakes, especially the ones that look like cartoon characters.

[masterwords]

every day is a start of something beautiful

Summary: It's time for the leaves to be cleaned up. When kids are involved, you have to be ready for anything.

Pairings: Hotch/Morgan

Warnings: a few casual mentions of Hotch's childhood not being idyllic, a reference to Foyet, and references to Hotch having chronic pain/ailments.

Words: 2.3k

Notes: Comfortember Day 3 - Leaves. I couldn't resist Hank here. As with everything else this month, this is part of the Chicago Times universe. I hope you enjoy!

**

Hotch couldn’t actually remember the last time he raked up autumn leaves.

Maybe because the last time he raked up leaves was when he was a teenager. That was an awfully long time ago, judging by the faded edges of his memories.

He could vaguely remember waking up in the morning to the sound of his father hollering about the damn leaves. “Why in God’s name do we have so many damn trees?” It never failed, he’d be shouting about Hotch cleaning them up before he’d even wiped the sleep from his eyes. It would be a quick breakfast and then out the door with a thermos of hot cocoa for a long day of hard work. The icy breeze would bite at his fingertips through his wool gloves and his hands would be bleeding and blistered and bright red by the end of the day. During the course of his time outside, he would have picked up three or four more jobs – neighbors who were older and couldn’t do the work or simply wanted to outsource. He preferred those, they got him away from his house for days at a time. His weekends would be occupied with what he considered easy money during that lull between the glory of football season and the horrors of basketball – a sport he was truly terrible at. He was hardly more than a bench warmer or someone whose shoes squeaked on the court only when their team was so far up in points that they could put their third string kids in, but it was better than the nightmare of wrestling and it kept him busy and away from the house. He would rake for free, but everyone paid him. It kept his gas tank full and he was able to buy Haley flowers and snacks and maybe even one nice date without touching the money his parents gave him.

After University, they lived in apartments, never quite settled. A nice condo in DC when he was appointed as a Federal Prosecutor, and a grungy little dump in Seattle when he took a steep paycut to pursue his dreams as an FBI Agent. While the trees planted to line the streets had falling leaves, he never had to touch them. He only watched them flutter to the ground and be scooped up by city trucks, that was the same no matter which side of the country you inhabited. The type of trees might have changed, but the behaviors never did. When they moved back to D.C, they hired a lawn care service, and again when they moved out to Alexandria. Haley didn’t want to do it on her own and he didn’t have the time. They installed sprinkler systems, did all the mowing and all of the cleanup while Hotch worked his long hours and never saw any of it. Then came two apartments back to back, and lawn care services that would come and go in an hour, sucking up all of the beautiful decaying leaves in their big riding mowers and move on. It was impersonal and loud, and when it was all cleaned up he missed the joy of the colors the leaves brought. There were children who lived in his building who would play in the leaves until they were cleaned up, and the sound of their laughter and the rustling got him through a lot of long lonely days after Foyet’s attack.

Now, he and Derek had a house. Well, Derek had a house and was kind enough to open his doors to Hotch and Jack, inviting them to move in rather than see them go back to Virginia when they were released from protective custody. They were still taking things a little slow, poking along, living together but not saying words like love too often. (Even if it was always heavily implied.) Derek’s divorce was still fresh enough to be a wound and the year of witness protection, the loneliness and fear and physical decline, were still wearing on Hotch in ways he couldn’t cope with some days.

But then the leaves fell, and he felt grounded and connected and useful just thinking about doing something mundane and simple. Something people just did at a certain time of year. Something that meant he belonged.

The front lawn was not just scattered with leaves, it was covered. At least a foot existed between the crisp upper layer and the damp, darkness of the bottom layer that was killing the small patch of grass they called a front lawn. Maple leaves and Oak leaves married in a sea of velvet orange and yellow and brown. The acorns pelted the sidewalk and made walking a hazard. He hadn’t even bothered to look at the backyard yet, those trees were still dropping leaves. They had another week or so before he could look at it as a project.

“I’ve got the riding mower,” Derek said, kicking his feet up with a beer in front of the TV. He was ready to watch some football and relax, and Hotch was about to join him. At least for the relaxing bit, he couldn’t tell you who was playing in the game. It was more about settling in beneath a blanket with Derek, resting his cheek against the mound of his shoulder, and maybe even falling asleep. “I’ll just take it out.”

“Too many leaves and acorns, it’ll clog it all up. I don’t want to lose a window to an acorn. I’ll do it, I have tomorrow off.”

Derek eyed him and scrunched his nose, shaking his head no. Like he’d considered the offer and instead of making a counter was outright refusing it. “I’ve used that mower the last two years. It’ll be okay.”

“I’d like to do it,” Hotch said, recanting his previous offer and rewording it. He was a lawyer in another life, he could do this all day until he found a loophole to exploit. Derek wasn’t an idiot, he knew what Hotch was doing and he kind of liked it. This sort of back and forth almost always led to sex, and it had been a few days since they’d had any...he was ready for that outcome. He’d even give up watching football for it.

“How about we wait until the weekend? We’ll get the kids out there playing and it’ll go quick if we work together. Then we can walk down to Lem’s and grab a bite to eat.”

“You don’t have to help, it’s a small yard. This football season has been exhausting, you deserve a break.”

“I got all winter, bud. I’m not coaching wrestling or basketball, just overseeing. Don’t worry about me.”

“But you’re worrying about me.” Hotch could feel his upper hand slipping away as his feelings crept in, knowing now that Derek was only concerned about whether he could do it at all. They went out running most mornings together, went to the gym, played all sorts of sports with the kids and Derek was worried his body suddenly couldn’t handle raking leaves? It hurt a little and he didn’t bother to hide it.

“Of course I am. I know we’re pretty active as a family, but that’s exactly it. As a family. You’ve had ticker problems since Foyet, don’t you dare pretend you haven’t. I know we don’t talk about what’s up with your body after Foyet much, it’s your business, but I think about it all the time. Plus your back’s all jacked up, you’ve been walking like an old man all week. I’m not letting you do it by yourself.”

“You’re making it sound like I’m an invalid.”

“No, I’m preventing a reasonably healthy middle-aged man from putting himself in the hospital because he’s stubborn. There’s a difference.”

Hotch scoffed at that, but when the weekend came and they were all bundled up under the bright morning Chicago sun he was glad for the help. And the company. The yard looked larger than he thought as he stood on the porch scanning the job with the last of his coffee warming his hands, and the sound of Jack and Hank playing catch with a football nearby made him feel instantly warmer. Derek was right, loathe as he was to admit it. This was a task better suited to the whole family.

He and Derek began at opposite ends of the yard, raking big piles of leaves, smelling the sweet decay, that smell of fall that’s so intrinsic and almost cathartic it was hard to put into words. It signaled to Hotch that it was time to hibernate, to hunker down in a way nothing else could. He imagined another night on the couch, probably with his heating pad nestled against the ache in the small of his back (because Derek was right about that too), a mug of tea or a nice dark beer and a movie – sharing a blanket and a laugh with Derek. This was the good stuff.

It would be the reward for a job well done.

They managed four giant piles in the front yard. “Not bad for a days’ work,” Derek announced, grabbing Hotch triumphantly by the hand and walking him back toward the garage for the carpenter bags to stuff the leaves into. They spent a little extra time in the garage, kissing in the shadows beside the shelves of fertilizer and tools. Warm lips and cold hands, safe from the biting wind for just a few minutes. “Aren’t you glad we did it together?”

“Yes,” Hotch smiled into another kiss before insisting they get back to the yard and finish up because he was starving. When they returned to the front yard, they found Jack throwing Hank wildly into the piles. Screaming and squealing, arms in the air, hair flying wildly where a knit cap had been moments before. That knit cap was now in the mess of leaves, what remained of their nice neat piles. Hotch couldn’t find it in him to be angry, even if they had undone much of the work he’d effectively destroyed his body for. He’d be in pain for the next few days, and it was worth it, but it would have been nice not to have to do it all over again.

“Again! AGAIN!” Hank was squealing with delight, throwing his arms wide, giggling madly when he hit the pile on his belly and sent a spray of leaves around him up into the air.

Hotch stopped and folded his arms, just watching with the ghost of a tired smile. Derek, on the other hand, dropped his bags and rushed forward, diving right into a pile himself. He didn’t need an invitation to the fun, and he certainly wasn’t going to be upset at work wasted. Jack tossed Hank down on top of him and soon they were both laughing and throwing the little guy, taking turns. Hank’s appetite for flight was insatiable.

“Come on Aaron!” Derek yelled and Hank rushed, covered in scraps of leaves and dirt and grass, toward Hotch. The leaves in his hair caught the sunlight and gave the impression of a golden crown, Hotch thought as he watched the kid run toward him.

“AGAIN!” Hank shouted, raising his arms like Hotch knew exactly what he meant. And, in spite of how badly he wanted to preserve the piles because of all of their hard work, he couldn’t resist playing. He looked at Jack standing there, a brand new teenager, and realized he’d never done this with his own son. He’d never thrown Jack into a leaf pile. Had Jack ever played in one? He didn’t know, but he thought maybe not. And when had he last done it himself? Those memories were faded sepia and silent and slow. His grandfather had tossed him into one, he thought. Yes, his grandfather played with him in the leaves, long before Sean was born. Never his father (or his mother). His father hated the trees, hated the leaves, hated it all. And he’d always been too busy with teenager things to play with Sean. What a waste, he thought.

Resigning himself to the fate of doing the work all over again, he lifted Hank into the air, gave him a kiss on the nose that made the kid giggle and launched him toward the pile. Derek raised his arms and caught his son, burying them both in the leaves quickly while Hotch walked up behind Jack and shoved him in. Just toppled him right over into the last fresh pile, watching him sink in with a look of surprise that eventually melted from teenage too-cool-horror into a smile.

So, they would have to rake again. Maybe Hotch would let Derek get the riding mower out for the second time, make short work of it. Hotch did like watching Derek out on that thing, he had to admit. There was something about it that felt so domestic and sweet he couldn’t help it. He always managed to sit on the porch and watch Derek looking so pleased with something so silly. But when he and Derek began throwing leaves at one another, he didn’t think about all the work they’d put in or all the work they’d have to do again. It wasn’t easy to take his mind away from it, he had a way of getting on a loop of work done before fun, but Derek wasn’t having any of that. “You never have the fun,” Derek would remind him when he got so caught up in the work that he couldn’t see his way out. “Sometimes fun before work is fine.” That attitude was infectious. His smile managed to pull Hotch in and get him playing too.

He’d be itchy, would definitely have to suck down some benadryl when all was said and done, but even he wasn’t immune to ending up in a pile of sticky wet leaves and enjoying himself.

“AGAIN!”

[rametarin]

I wonder what the minimum number of people would be to have a modern standard of living.

Just a thinky diatribe. Keep scrolling, it's fine.

We have technology, tools and automation that are labor saving devices and methods to do more, faster, with less, for cheaper. Things that would've taken centuries to do by hand without extra people to help, now able to be done by one person with a machine, be it stationary at a factory or a vehicle one rides.

No matter what, one could always use more manpower for any given situation, but manpower brings with it an inherent humanity, which means they are not disposable, they have their own needs and life and ambitions and life. That is the double edged sword of having a population that needs more of itself to function. That contributes to overpopulation and widespread distribution of that population, which leads to desperate competition for scarce resources.

Making it possible and even preferable for someone to have fewer children to see them as resources for retirement or luxurious life means that those that actually want to raise children for the sake of raising children, produce and raise more children, actually giving a shit to give them a loving and nurturing home. Fewer desperate, possibly psychotic people running around threatening to extort random passerbys in the street.

But suppose you could accomplish with a small, very micronized version of what used to require a manufacturing plant with ancient assed technology requiring thousands or even just hundreds of people, it could be done by a few dozen, regionally.

Previously, a large workforce was a necessity in order to be able to produce more objects to sell to other people. Objects which required time and resources and professional skill for quality and performance, based on industry standards and needs. That meant skilled labor in large quantitites was a necessity, that meant the value was high. That meant a large population for it was attractive, which could provide cheaper things for a population, which meant for the people currently alive, it was cheaper to acquire and possess with less scarcity for a comfortable and secure life.

But what if you needed progressively fewer and fewer people to do the same tasks? That'd mean more of those same people could also do more things, even different things, throughout the day. Not to the point where one dude is operating 20 different consoles to be a chef, a miner, a construction worker and maintain security at a nuclear power plant, but 1-2 different tasks, perhaps. This would mean higher profits for people to pay fewer workers, but it would also mean the workers they keep on board would be higher paid, and there'd be more opportunity for business. Even business of the same kinds, competing. Even if the quality of, say, specific steel lugnuts varied a micron's worth; some preferring the brand name, some preferring the miniscule difference in quality, some preferring the cent difference cheaper, despite performance standards and guarantees making them practically the same.

But suppose you possessed a healthy workforce to be able to handle even the estimated needs of a sudden influx of population in the event of a shitstorm; 3-4 people to account for shift differences, waves of illness incapacitating large numbers at a time. Some good faith automation to handle phone lines and similar services.

We're going to assume that this supposed era, machines are cheaper, and comprised of materials that are easier to recycle or maintain and do not pollute at end of cycle, enabling one person to do more tasks, with less effort. Mowing lawns, paving roads, working on telecom lines and utility poles.

All the things we need other people to manage or labor for, a fraction would be necessary. Even for maintaining and fixing those machines. And in turn, those machines and systems would be better in all respects than the methods we use now to acquire those resources or produces those necessary products. And yet, acquiring a job would be easy, because even essential people whom are very valuable could always use some security in the event they're incapacitated and can't serve as the primary provider. Meet the performance standards and be able to operate, you're worth that security stippend. The meaning of skeleton crews kind of changing, given the different needs of a business that truncates what used to be a hundred people, to about ten.

The ultimate objective, of course, being to have an economic system where the government does not subsidize any form of business. Specifically so said business has to sink or swim on its own merits, not by simply performing the sole, monopolizing essential service because they're the only ones with the finances to create or maintain the machines or refine or create the resources. If anyone can do it, for cheap, then the value of that essential produce, good or service, drops to a reasonable sum, and it becomes just another unique necessity we can't live without, but doesn't deserve to be worth more than gold per ounce.

Where a business, even working within the minimum standards and benchmarks for environmental safety and from-pallet-to-waste-bin cycle management of good to waste, turns a very high ratio of profit, based purely on the value of the good, service or product, not based on how much the government will pay you to subsidize the thing at the cost to taxpayers to ensure the thing continues to exist. Thereby resulting in greater trade and business in the economy as different companies exchange services and trade goods and servies to make those products accessible and affordable. All of it based on the ease of exploitation of natural resources, all of that based on the efficiency of the processes we use where science and technology meet.

So ultimately we could have internet (phone, radio etc), cars, medicine, medical devices, digital media, manufacturing of textiles, agriculture, roads, construction, power, quality inspection, safety, waste management and disposal, you name it. Just, assisted by automation. The ultimate size of the population in order to meet every individual's needs, on the personal or larger scale, becomes a fraction. Any pressure to have children in order to sustain this system becomes minimal.

That means no shortages of things because people weren't there in order to fill the niches, and it also means those people that were deliberately born have a lucrative opportunity that would net them enough income, even for a lower end job, that'd allow them to afford just by virtue of the markets, essential medicine, medical services, internet, resources like water and food.

Or, if in this on paper thought experiment, it doesn't, we'd see where reality or our systems and methods still fall short and thought and engineering needs to be put into practice to make acquiring those resources or substitutes for them, cheaper and more effective.

I lack the macroscale knowledge or know-how to actually do anything with this thought experiment, but it's interesting to think about. The minimum size we'd need as a population to cover all standards of living we have now, IF we better utilized machines and internet to fulfill them.

[snapthistiger]

exercise 04252023

bike ride to the gym

3 x 10 lat pull

3 x 10 tricep press

3 x 5 dips

45 minute spin class

3 x 10 overhead press

3 x 10 seated press

bike ride home

the gym workers received York mints and Reeses

top left = changed oil in mother-in-law's lawnmower. she has hired a mowing service for the summer, so i may use her mower from time to time to mow my yard.

bottom = hung out for awhile in the backyard with Peanut.

continued working on module 1 of the Google cybersecurity course

hope you have a peaceful afternoon and evening..

[crackinwise]

I need to rant.

So, ok, my brother is a grown-ass man with his own house and tiny yard. We're talking a front yard that can be mowed in less than 10min and a backyard that can prob be done in 20, if he bothered doing it more often so it didn't become a jungle. He hates mowing his yard. Understandable, but there are *~options~*!

He makes a lot of money in I.T., which I know because he's always buying new shit and goes to big name concerts like twice or more a month. Does he use this money for a ride-on? No, he has a self-propelled push mower. That's still pretty easy anyway. You just walk behind it with no effort except a little to steer. Does he hire a lawn service if he's so lazy? No. ...I don't know why, just no.

BUT every time he wants to mow his lawn he asks our mother for her ride-on mower. He'll needle for hours. How tf is she gonna get it there, my dude? "We can just lift it into my truck." You want your mother, in her 60's with a bad back, to lift a ride-on mower onto a truck bed? How about if you want it so bad you, idk, buy a trailer, Money Bags? Or your own damn ride-on, Mooch? Wtf is his problem? It's bad enough he asks his mother for help doing a chore in the heat that he could easily knock out himself.

But he's The Son, so my mother hems and haws about disappointing him every time. And when I text him "you're not getting the ride-on," he throws a passive-aggressive shitfit and our mother screams at ME with crazy eyes. As if instead of texting him I really burned down his house. That's the eyes she gives me. How dare I make him upset for not caring about our mother and maybe taking responsibility for his own yard, oh nooooooooo!

Boy moms, dude.

[ultimateaclrecovery]

Plotting out my week and I already need a nap

Sunday:

Play at frisbee tournament 3 games plus get food after. Shower, put away laundry and call parents, grocery shop. Put up outdoor lights. Maybe do more pruning and weeding

Monday

Work. Ride pony. Make Mac and cheese.

Tuesday:

Work, ride pony.

Wednesday

Work from home. Mow the lawn finish the front lawn weeding/pruning. Dye hair purple. Put up rainbow flag with new power drill. Ghost town practice.

Thursday

Work. Green chiles practice.

Friday: my birthday 🥳

Make breakfast waffles. Bake cakes and cupcakes. Riding lesson. Shower get ready. Got to Linger with Anthony for birthday dinner and hopefully milkshakes after.

Saturday:

Put up party decorations. Decorate cake. Cut up burger toppings. Clean and tidy for party. Inflate unicorn. Maybe stop by at friends party. Have my party.

At some point I also need to book different flights to visit home and cancel my old ones. Schedule an ac inspection. Pick a new dentist and Schedule a dentist appointment. Deal with republic service refund. And I would like to plant some pumpkins. But maybe that’s for next Sunday….

[balamowing1]

[fictionadventurer]

Scattered thoughts about the remainder of The Return of the King:

Most of my opinions about the book boil down to: Anything about setting up the battle = eh; Scenes of valor, triumph and victory = amazing, astounding, superb, 10000000/10.

Pippin became one of my favorite characters. He's so innocent and inexperienced, but conducts himself so well. Like, his first instinct on meeting Denethor is to pledge himself to his service, but he doesn't hesitate to incite his guards to mutiny when Faramir's life is in danger.

It is pretty clear that Tolkien intended to kill him off in the final battle, and his method of sparing him was pretty lazy. He could have put in a bit more effort than, "Gimli happened to come by and see him."

I'm fascinated by the prince of Dol Amroth. I wish he'd gotten a bit more focus--we don't really get to know him as a character because he doesn't get a proper introduction to the hobbits.

Imrahil coming up to Eowyn's funeral procession and going, "You guys know she's alive, right?" was a favorite scene.

Also fascinated that Eowyn gets saved by four princes: Imrahil, Aragorn, Eomer, and Faramir.

I still loved the scene where the black ships unfurl the king's banner, but it didn't have as much impact knowing it was coming. The moment that stood out more this time was Aragorn coming out on the field of battle and immediately becoming brothers-in-arms with Eomer and Imrahil.

Eomer in battle was also pretty awesome. "Ride to ruin and the world's ending" was pretty hardcore and has been running through my head for days. Major "Ballad of the White Horse" vibes surrounding everything involving Rohan, especially because their banner is literally a white horse on a green field.

I already talked about how Faramir and Eowyn are the main love story of LotR, but Aragorn and Arwen's wedding is a nice complement to it. The first one is the tale of great healing after the horrors of war, but the second is the triumph after long years of planning and preparing for war.

Gandalf leaving now that his mission is over had major Ascension vibes.

I had remembered that Saruman destroyed the Shire, but I hadn't remembered that most of the damage had been done before he got there. Even hobbit hearts can be corrupted, and even their simple, petty greed can do a lot of damage.

The War of the Ring ended with a pun! Saruman is killed when Wormtongue, who he calls Worm, finally snaps under his mistreatment and kills him, making it a literal example of the phrase, "Even a worm will turn."

The bountiful year of 1420 was a wonderful epilogue. Especially the mention that everyone was happy with how well everything grew, except for the people who had to mow the grass.

"Well, I'm back," was the perfect ending line for a saga that started out with a book subtitled There and Back Again.

[tacitusauxilium]

Honestly? I think I need a sedative and/or wine with the week I’ve had so far.

My mom has been in the hospital since Monday. She had an artery on her right side that had 99% blockage to her heart. They told her if she went to work Monday night or mowed the yard, she would be dead. The thought of her mowing the yard with my son in the house and her dead in the yard terrifies the shit out of me. So, she finally comes home tomorrow since she got her stent put in today to clear the blockage—through her groin, instead of her arm, cause she can’t make anything easy for herself. Then again, the smoking she’s done for 40 + years is finally catching up to her. If that doesn’t wake her up, idk what will.

Then my husband is in the ER today because he was having chest pains. Work wasn’t letting him go back to work (his HR was too high) and then that turned into an ambulance ride—turns out it was anxiety. The man was taking the memories he had with his father and turning them around and experiencing them again. Cause his dad died in a hospital and he hates hospitals—moms in a hospital, so on and forth. Not fun being alone with my kid who wouldn’t nap unless he was in my arms. I didn’t eat until 3pm today cause I was so drained. And also super not fun when the service desk lady asked if anyone could watch my son while I see my husband. I even said “my moms in the cath lab getting a stent put in and my husbands in the ER—I DON’T have anyone to help me” and smiled with my head turned. 😒

So, I’ve been off for two days for work and just having panic attacks over the stress of everything this week. I don’t get how my husband can play video games and relax while I’m laying in bed and trying to stop myself from being numb from everything. At least we will all be home together tomorrow.

[saydams]

this is a problem with privatization

privatization is bad on an individual level too.

we used to be able to walk down the street and get a coffee.

now we have to make them at home ourselves, and maintain the equipment for that at home ourselves too.

same for mowing the lawn

why do we all have to have a giant machine that we have to house and service and spend an hour pushing/riding around every week (also why do we have lawns, but that is a different post)

i miss small appliance repair shops

i miss neighborhood takeout

i miss nearby bakeries

i miss handyman and jack-of-all-trades

i miss living in groups where all responsibilities for your own daily life are not yours and yours alone.

i miss people helping you and you helping them

i fucking hate being an adult with a slowly increasing number of responsibilities its like one day you wake up and youre like aw fuck when was the last time i descaled the coffee machine

[top4allo]

The best riding lawn mowers for 2025

CNET’s expert staff reviews and rates dozens of new products and services every month, building more than a quarter century of expertise. With the right riding lawnmoweryou will save time and effort, especially when mowing larger yards and some wet grass. However, try to find it which one is right for you it can be enough. To help you make the choice – and not let lawn maintenance feel like a…

[westernlawnmowing]

Ride-On Mowing Services Melbourne

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[progardener-1]

A Guide to Choosing the Perfect Lawnmower for Your Garden

A lush, well-maintained lawn is often the centerpiece of any garden. Whether you're creating a peaceful outdoor retreat or hosting family gatherings, a well-manicured lawn enhances the overall beauty of your property. However, achieving that perfect lawn requires the right tools—specifically, a lawnmower that suits your needs. With so many options available, choosing the perfect lawnmower for your garden can be a daunting task. Fortunately, this guide will walk you through the key considerations to make when selecting the ideal lawnmower, as well as highlight the benefits of professional lawn mowing services in Western Sydney for those who prefer to leave it to the experts.

Types of lawnmowers

Before diving into the specific features of lawnmowers, it’s important to understand the different types available on the market.

1. Push lawn mowers

Push lawn mowers are ideal for smaller lawns or homeowners who enjoy a good workout while caring for their garden. These mowers require the operator to push them manually, offering a quiet and eco-friendly mowing experience. While they are physically demanding, they’re generally more affordable and provide a great way to stay active.

2. Self-propelled lawn mowers

For those with medium to large lawns, self-propelled mowers offer an excellent solution. These mowers are equipped with a motor that propels the mower forward, making them easier to maneuver than push mowers. They come in both gas-powered and electric models, providing flexibility depending on your preference. If you find yourself struggling with a push mower, switching to a self-propelled model can make the task much more manageable.

3. Ride-On Mowers

If you have a large lawn, a ride-on mower may be the best investment for you. These mowers allow you to sit comfortably while mowing, reducing the physical effort involved in maintaining a big lawn. They come with various attachments, such as baggers and mulchers, making them versatile for different lawn care needs. Though more expensive than push or self-propelled mowers, ride-on mowers save you time and energy.

4. Robotic lawn mowers

The future of lawn care is here with robotic lawnmowers. These high-tech mowers operate autonomously, navigating your lawn and cutting the grass on their own. Simply set the parameters and let the mower do the work while you sit back and relax. Robotic mowers are perfect for those who want a hands-off approach to lawn care but do come at a higher price point.

Key Features to Consider When Choosing a Lawnmower

It’s important to consider the features that will impact your mowing experience and the quality of your lawn.

1. Blade Type and Quality

The blades of your lawnmower are one of the most critical components when it comes to ensuring a clean, precise cut. Most mowers come with either rotary or reel blades. Rotary blades are the most common and are suitable for most lawns, cutting grass in a chopping motion. Reel blades, found on push mowers, offer a scissor-like cut that’s healthier for your grass.

2. Engine Power

If you choose a gas-powered mower, engine power is another key factor to consider. Lawn mowers with larger engines can handle more difficult terrain and thicker grass. A 140-cc engine is suitable for small to medium lawns, while larger engines (over 190-cc) are ideal for larger lawns or tougher grass types. If you’re opting for a self-propelled or ride-on mower, a more powerful engine will make the mowing process smoother and faster.

3. Cutting Width

The cutting width of your lawnmower is the width of the mower’s blades and determines how much grass you can cut in one pass. A wider cutting width will allow you to mow larger areas faster, while a narrower cutting width is better suited for small, intricate gardens with lots of obstacles. Choose a cutting width that matches the size of your lawn to optimize efficiency.

4. Grass Collection and Mulching Options

Lawnmowers typically come with a grass collection bag or a mulching function. The grass collection bag is ideal if you prefer to collect the grass clippings for composting or disposal. Mulching mowers, on the other hand, chop the grass into fine pieces and return them to the lawn, which can improve soil health by adding nutrients back into the ground. If you’re looking for a more environmentally friendly option, mulching is a great way to go.

Professional Lawn Mowing Services in Western Sydney

If you’re overwhelmed by the thought of selecting the perfect lawnmower or simply don’t have the time to mow your lawn regularly, professional lawnmowing services in Western Sydney are a great solution. Companies like Pro Gardeners offer comprehensive lawn care services in Western Sydney, ensuring your lawn stays in top condition without the hassle of doing it yourself. From regular mowing to lawn fertilization and weeding, expert lawn care services take care of everything.

Why Lawn Care Services in Western Sydney Are Worth It

Maintaining a healthy and vibrant lawn requires regular attention, and sometimes a DIY approach isn’t enough. Lawn care services in Western Sydney ensure your lawn is not just mowed but also properly maintained with the right techniques. Experts can offer advice on soil health, irrigation, and pest control, providing comprehensive care that results in a lawn that stands out.

Conclusion

Choosing the right lawnmower for your garden can significantly impact the appearance of your lawn and the effort required to maintain it. Whether you opt for a push mower, a self-propelled mower, or even a ride-on mower, it’s important to consider your lawn’s size, the mower’s features, and your own preferences. For those who want a hassle-free option, professional lawnmowing services in Western Sydney are always available to help you maintain a pristine lawn with minimal effort.