#define-lying

[eameschairs]

23:A song that you think everybody should listen to

One Single Song. good lord

everybody should listen to everyday people by sly and the family stone and read along with the lyrics and then do a questionnaire to show that they Understand The Material

everybody should also listen to intrasport by king gizzard because it bangs

[foundfamilywhump]

Since we’re sharing niche whump tropes we like - I love when someone the whumpee isn’t particularly close to ends up in a caretaker role. Especially when they end of being protective of the whumpee, despite being fully out of their depth in this situation. Think: the neighbor you’re friendly with but don’t really know, a family member’s best friend, or a friend’s parent, etc. Someone the whumpee doesn’t have a bad relationship with, but only really knows peripherally.

The caretaker is only temporarily in this role, until whumpee can be reunited with their Person, but I love the blurring of those relationships, the response to seeing someone who needs help and not hesitating to offer it. It’s also the sheer panic of being thrust into something they’re not prepared for, but knowing that someone else needs them to be calm and cool and provide that foundation until things are alright again. It’s about the vulnerability! It’s about love! It’s about the care we owe each other!

YES OH YES THIS IS GREAT!!!! i love this sort of thing for the potential of it. like. not a bad relationship but a tangential relationship. it's something i'm writing about in a fic right now actually, and gosh it's so fun.

it reminds me of a bit in grey's anatomy right where the main protagonist's romantic interest decides to take it upon himself to take care of her best friend while the best friend is in a like. really fragile state of ptsd following a serious trauma. and he tells her at one point like. i would not have picked you to be part of my life. but [protagonist] did. you're her family and that makes you my family too. it's a concept i'm obsessed with. love by association. the way you love a cousin you've never met, or the friend of your child who's treated them well but has been very far from you. it's so good.

and then in a whump context it's a doubly compelling dynamic because of the risk taking and vulnerability inherent in allowing someone to care for you when wounded and traumatized. the sheer panic from BOTH of them - can i do this, can i take care of this person and also can i do this, can i trust this person. is their goodwill towards the person we share in common enough to earn me this kind of grace. etc. the vulnerability! the love! the care we owe each other!!! it obsesses me thank you.

[altschmerzes]

🌹🌹 Wriggle Up and/or New York Minute pleassssse 🙏

yesssss okay new york minute has taken over my brain for a moment so i'll go with an excuse to share some of that one

('new york minute' is my first fic for the bear, btw, it is a cousin michelle from the christmas episode pov of The Whole New York Debacle. as always i am really really anxious taking my first try at character voices, and picking a pov character who is a minor side character in one (1) episode has been both freeing and anxiety provoking LMAO. so. here's this.)

(also it's.... long. we know this about me and clips.)

As soon as Carmy is under her roof, safely tucked away in her guest room, Michelle takes what feels like her first full breath in since Christmas. It’s not like everything is magically okay now - Carmy certainly isn’t okay, and he’s just one little piece of the whole fucked up puzzle, but she’s finally done something about it. Michelle has found the one piece of that puzzle that she can do anything about at all and she’s done it. That’s the part that’s driven her the most out of her mind - knowing that things need to be done, that nothing is alright in Chicago, and not knowing what to do. Who to try and help, never mind how.

Natalie has Pete and her friends from school. She’s got a home and distance and she’d mentioned while on a walk with Michelle, looking away like she wasn’t sure what the response would be, that she had started therapy after Thanksgiving. And Michael has… Well. When they talk on the phone, Natalie doesn’t have a lot to say about Michael that’s encouraging. Michelle is worried about Michael but it’s not like she can do anything about that. They were close when they were younger but the older they got and the more Donna took a shine to her the more strained her relationship with Michael got. They were a competition of their own, really, or at least a battlefield on the war between their mothers.

Grandpa Berzatto, right? Michael Berzatto. A looming figure gone before any of her generation was born, and so of course the oldest grandchild is named after him - both of them were, at the beginning and the end of the same year, one down each branch of the family tree. Michael and Michelle. They thought it was funny when they were younger. Used to tell people they were twins, when they were real little. It’s not like that anymore. At least Richie is there, though. At least Richie is always there.

Thank god for Richie, said almost no one ever and Michelle several times over the course of her life.

One time, she was seventeen and going out with a guy who was far too old for her and a massive asshole on top of that. When she finally dumped him and his reaction scared her enough to tell them what was going on, Michael and Richie got a baseball bat and a tire iron out of the garage and broke every window and light cover on the guy’s car. Richie took one of the pieces from the tail-light to wood shop class the next day and while the teacher was off making sure some sophomores didn’t lose any fingers using a table saw, he sanded down the edges and put a hole through it, then gave it to her on a keychain. Michelle still has it somewhere. Michelle still has that keychain somewhere and Richie still has Michael and so that’s one thing she doesn’t have to worry about not being able to fix.

So there’s nothing to do for any of them, because Natalie is going to be okay in ways that even Michelle isn’t, and Michael is out of her reach, and Donna is out of everyone’s reach. (Donna needs help. She’s obviously suffering and needs some serious help, but Michelle learned long ago with her own mother that there’s no forcing help on someone who won’t accept it and will stop speaking to you for months if you try to push it anyway.)

But Carmy… Carmy is in her guest room and it’s still pretty early but she thinks he’s asleep and this she can do. This, him, Michelle can help.

(Michael caught her on the way out, when she and Stevie were leaving. She was worried for a moment, because he had that intense look on his face that meant trouble could be coming, and when he said heard you asked Carm to come stay with you for a few days in New York she steeled her nerves for one last explosion for the road. Michael was silent and Michelle was silent and he still had a hold of her arm but he wasn’t squeezing or anything so she let him keep his hand for now. And then he just said Good. Get him the fuck out of here and do not let him come back. Then he gave her a hug so tight she couldn’t breathe and kissed her on the cheek and said love you, Mitch and he was gone.)

[zannolin]

I’ll bite - got any past Shazam fics or fic ideas you feel like talking about??

god there's so many. there's still supposed to be another fic in the aftershocks series btw finally dealing with the whole "billy being kind of freaked out to transform" schtick i accidentally created. oh yeah. that was an accident. or like, it was intentional but the series was not and then i went oh no...i've created Plot Elements i must Deal With And Resolve. oops. haven't gotten around to that one yet.

there's the marilyn fic that i think about every day where essentially it's like, what if i wrote The most self indulgent scenario about marilyn deciding she wants to look into how billy's doing (maybe it's because she does care. maybe it's because she feels guilty. maybe it's because she saw footage from the invasion a couple months back and can't shake a Feeling she's got. who knows!) and it's essentially just a story about sometimes you grow apart from people and it's better that way. like the story does not need this. but maybe i want to be bonkers about growing apart okay like it's just my Thing that i do in every fandom at this point.

@blusandbirds and i have created the most unhinged convenience store au that exists entirely in our DMs and i'm just letting you know that it exists and i think about it a lot.

there's the werewolf au where it's like, the normal events of shazam (2019) but instead of superheroes billy gets chomped by a werewolf and it's a series of increasingly ridiculous hijinks while freddy tries to figure out how it all works and if there's any kind of cure. moth has heard about this one so much and the reason i haven't written it is i actually don't know what happens in the middle or really the end. head empty only this

also have a Mighty need to write a fic about them growing up and going to college.

um pre-existing fics. i have forgotten everything i've ever written i need to reread my own fics. happy to take questions about them tho.

[danielwaldorf]

Ooh ooh ooh your s4 Robin response wasn’t so good, I gotta know what you want for Steve

I’m gonna assume you meant to say “was” but if you did mean “wasn’t” that’s extremely funny and I commend your honesty. Anyways!

I really want to see more of Steve with Lucas, Max, and Mike again. His friendship with Dustin is amazing, but when he went to bat against Billy in S2 it was kind of FOR Lucas and Max, and I’d love to see them expand on that! Max particularly is gonna be feeling a lot of mixed-up emotions in S4 after Billy’s death, and I think it could be really powerful if she got to spend some time with Steve and gain something like a real brother- someone who looks out for her, actually cares about her, and would do anything to protect her. Steve is such a sweet guy and he’s good at knowing when to be serious and when to joke around, something that I think could really help Max through her complicated mourning process.

Obviously, I want a lot of him and Robin being annoyingly close and adorable goofy dumbass best friends. In my dreams, he has a bisexual awakening that Robin coaches him through, but of course this is just in my wildest dreams. More realistically, I’d like to see him branching out a little; getting into some of Robin’s interests, finding new goals and interests of his own, and overall coming to terms with who he is and the man he’s becoming outside of his old high school persona. I personally don’t feel the need to see him moving on into a professional career, at least not at this stage in the story. Maybe in S5, but I think he needs a solid season to figure out who and what he is independently of school, romance, or a job. Every other teen character has some identity that has nothing to do with their relationships with others (the kids all have their interests, Nancy her journalism, Jonathan his photography and music, Robin has band/movies/soccer/etc), while Steve is currently floundering after the loss of everything he defined himself by (basketball, “King Steve,” Nancy’s boyfriend, ladies’ man, whatever). Even now, Steve is largely defined by his relationships with Dustin and Robin. In my wildest dreams, he picks up making music as a pastime (The Russian music thing MEANS SOMETHING, goddamnit! Joe Keery is a musician! Steve canonically loves singing and dancing around to have fun! It makes sense!) but hobbies are kind of irrelevant so long as he finds some kind of peace with who he is post-high school.

I’d like to see Steve interacting with Nancy and Jonathan again. I think it’s unlikely, but there are few more complex and interesting relationships in the show, and exploring the ways these teens interact with each other in the wake of the S1-S2 drama and all of their character growth thus far could be SO fun! Joe and Charlie get along really well and have great chemistry, and seeing Steve and Nancy interact outside of a romantic context would be so different and cool. We all want some Steve/Hopper interaction too, so I’m not gonna harp on about that and I’ll just kind of repeat what I said with Robin: I want to see him branch out from the Scoops Troop!

Plot-wise, I’d love to see Steve play a really integral role in some planning or problem-solving capacity instead of playing the punching bag for the fourth season in a row. We know that he’s got good instincts, he notices things and makes connections that other people don’t, he’s able to think on his feet, and he’s generally very safety-conscious, something that basically no other character in the show ever fucking thinks about. If his experience being held captive in S3 comes into play, that would be incredible, but I also think it would be really neat if something he’s interested in came in handy the way that everybody else’s interests have in the past. Sports are very strategic, and Steve has always done a really good job of navigating combat situations. Unfortunately, all of this gets overshadowed by how he gets the shit kicked out of him all the time (which is actually pretty much his goal, as he’s generally just focused on making sure the people next to him don’t get beaten up and he is willing to let himself get beaten up for their sake), and I’d love for him to have a more clear and prominent opportunity to display what he has to offer besides being a meat shield.

Thanks so much for asking, and I’d love to hear your thoughts too!!

[traincat]

Now you’ve got me curious, how would you sort the rest of the F4 (and related characters if you feel like it) in Hogwarts Houses? I have some gut instincts but you feel like the best authority on this one.

Johnny the Hufflepuff is basically the only one I feel extremely strongly about – ideally, with sorting the Fantastic Four, I would want to put each of them in one of the houses because four houses, four elements, four members of the Four, etc. I do think Ben makes for an obvious Gryffindor and Reed for a quintessential Ravenclaw, which would leave me sorting Sue into Slytherin which – I don’t know. I can buy it, but the thing with having characters who have fifty years worth of characterization and a sorting system that is relatively simplistic means I feel like I could make arguments for a wide variety of sortings. I also think Sue would be an equally good Gryffindor and I wouldn’t bat an eye at her being sorted into Ravenclaw. 

[wilderwraith]

First name: Gray
Nickname: "YOU MONSTER"
Age: 22
Gender: Agender/Nonbinary
Sexual Orientation: All-Star Ace ;)
Nationality: Amurrrrican (regrettably...)
Relationship status: "ALLL by mySELLLLFFF 🎶"
Likes: Star Wars, Natsume, cartoons, birds, characters in pain, the outdoors, causing me AGONY
Dislikes: when characters get hurt and there's no payoff, that *one* blog, not starting things from the beginning
Random fact: We met in a Noodles & Company shortly after you got your first short haircut!

oh my god 😂 well you nailed that like i knew you would morgan. let’s go get noodles together again soon?

[bump-of-whump]

Oh my goodness that Phichit mugging fic is my new favorite thing. Would you be willing to write a follow up where either Phichit goes to practice the next day or so and has to deal with all of that pain (and maybe collapses) or a scenario where Yuuri calls them both out sick and we get more h/c in the day after the mugging? I would love to see Celestino's reaction too! Thank you again for the awesome fic!! I just want to hug my son. <3

Okay, no lie when I first saw you in my inbox I like had to take a minute and process because omfg you’re so cool, I can’t handle it when cool people talk to me. I can’t believe this is real wtf. Normally I never finish things this fast but I think the sheer fact I was acknowledged by such a cool cat fueled me with power.

So um, I tired to kind of incorporate all that, I guess? I hope it turned out okay, follow up commences under the cut.

Morning hurts. All of Phichit’s injuries stiffened up during the night. His back and his shoulder have to be the worst, wrenched with this incessant throbbing that doesn’t even need the prompt of movement. And true to Yuuri’s prediction, his eye is now swollen shut. Not only does it hurt, but the blindspot is messing with him. It’s making him clumsier, he’s having a hell of a time trying to rewrap his palm.

“Can I help you with that?” Yuuri asks after a few minutes of trying not to look like he was watching Phichit struggle.

“This is kind of embarrassing,” Phichit sighs sheepishly, nudging the first aid kit over the comforter.

“That’s a difficult task one-handed,” Yuuri says softly. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

Yuuri slips the roll of bandaging from Phichit’s grasp. He holds the end at the juncture of Phichit’s thumb and index finger and gently swathes his hand layer after layer, until he deems it thick enough. The slash doesn’t look much different today. It hurts about the same too. Yuuri finishes up and tapes it down around his wrist.

“Do you want me to stay back with you today?” Yuuri asks. “I don’t mind calling in sick.”

“Thanks, but I’m not staying back,” says Phichit. “I’m going to practice.”

Uncertainly darkens Yuuri’s face. “Phichit…”

“It’ll be fine,” Phichit insists in a purposely airy tone. “I’m sore but I’m not incapacitated. Besides, things will go back to normal the sooner I act like they are.”

“Well…okay,” Yuuri says slowly. “If that’s what you want.”

“Yeah, I’d hate to fall behind.” Phichit masks a wince with a smile when he stands up.

Raising his arm is still unbearable, even harder than it was yesterday. So Phichit slips on a lightweight track jacket instead of one of his normal practice shirts. Yuuri surely notices but he doesn’t comment on it.

Phichit gets a lot of stares at the rink. He expected that but it’s more overwhelming than he anticipated. From his blog to his social circle, Phichit’s pretty popular. He’s used to getting attention. But handling positive attention with grace is a lot different than handling this. Even before he can get his skates on, his rink mates take turns crowding around.

“Whoa, Phichit! Did you get into a fight?”

“What happened to your face?”

“Who the hell did that?”

“What’s the other guy look like?”

Phichit gulps, throat drying as he struggles to address each rapid fire question. His skin crawls under the saucer-eyed gawking. It really nails in just how bad he looks and he can’t help thinking that maybe he should’ve stayed in today after all.

“Give him some space,” Celestino demands as he makes his way over. “You’re here to skate, aren’t you? I don’t see any skating happening.”

With a chorus of apologetic mumbles, his rink mates disperse and his coach sits down next to him. Phichit exhales slowly. He hasn’t been face to face with Celestino yet. The older man was instructing a newcomer at the opposite end of the rink. His features are tense with concern, mouth lining  in a firm frown as he takes in Phichit’s appearance.

“Thanks,” Phichit says.

“Yuuri gave me a heads up. You got robbed?”

“Uh-huh. It’s fine though,” Phichit reassures him. “I didn’t have much cash and I froze my debit card last night.”

“You look a little worse for wear,” Celestino says quietly.

“Yeah.” Phichit scratches at his wrist self-consciously. “It’s not as bad as it looks though, really. I’m just kind of sore.”

Celestino gives a low hum. He moves a hand to Phichit’s jaw and tilts his head to get a better look at the swollen half of his face.

“You should be icing this and recuperating at home.” He lets him go.

“I took a painkiller. I feel fine.” Phichit smiles in an attempt to put his coach as ease, but the pill he took doesn’t stop the smile from hurting his face. A lot.

“Show me,” Celestino instructs, pensive.

Phichit sucks in a breath that he can’t deny hurts and finishes lacing up his skates. His coach follows him to the ice, keeping a close eye on him. Phichit starts out slow, pace steady. He can’t deny that he’s in pain. His muscles are as taut as bowstrings and his range of motion naturally suffers for it. He attempts a simple spin and grits his teeth under the pain that ignites, his legs wavering at the fragile completion.

Phichit knows this isn’t enough to sell his coach so he sweeps around for a quick flip. A mistake. He underestimates the heightening intensity of the pain and overestimates his ability to tolerate it. He can’t stretch his arm out even enough for balance and trying jerks a yelp out of his throat. A dynamite goes off in his back when he descends floundering and he lands hard on his hands and knees.

“Can you stand?” Celestino calls out urgently.

“Yeah,” Phichit calls out, the certainty of it undermined by the quaver in his voice.

“Do you need help?” Pink skates skid to a stop a few lengths away and he glances up to see the extended hand of another student, Khadijah.

“I’m good.” Phichit denies the offer with a swallow and shakily pushes himself up.

He keeps close to the guardrail as he heads to his waiting, frowning coach.

“You can barely move,” Celestino declares. “You’re in pain, Phichit, go home.”

Phichit deflates, hanging his head. He won’t argue. He knows his coach is right. Even so, this is disheartening. He’d rather skate than sit around the quiet dorm with nothing to focus on other than the fact there was a gun to his head that he can still feel in between the pulses of his contusions.

Then Celestino takes his wrist, lifting it with a soft click of the tongue. Phichit blinks in surprise as he sees the tendrils of blood crawling out from under his glove. Oh. His palm must’ve reopened when he broke his fall.

“I’ll look at this before I send you off.”

“Okay.”

Celestino goes to get the first aid kit. Phichit finds the closest bench and slumps onto it tiredly. He pulls his gloves off and undoes the bloodied dressing Yuuri had applied. Yep, he ripped it open again. Pink meat sits in the split of his skin and glistens with a red glaze as blood weeps down. It isn’t the worst thing ever, but it is pretty gross. Phichit’s stomach squiggles uneasily.

“Are you okay?”

Phichit spooks at the voice, whipping his head. Yuuri had come up on his current blindspot.

“Sorry, just me.” Yuuri holds up his hands and sits next to him.

“I’m okay, I just…” Phichit trails off with a sigh as he realizes how many heads on the rink are are turned in his direction. He shies away and pushes his face into Yuuri’s shoulder. It hurts but right now the pain in his cheek is preferable to being stared at.

Yuuri doesn’t even budge and Phichit feels the quiet unfurl of friendship in his chest. He doesn’t look up when Celestino comes back but he knows he has when he hears the first aid kit being put down. His coach exhales as he takes Phichit’s hand and gets to work. Phichit doesn’t flinch when the cool squirt of saline hits the wound.

“Keep an eye on this,” Celestino says slowly. “If it won’t close, you might need stitches.”

“It’s fine,” Phichit promises without lifting his head. “I just landed on it hard.”

“Nevertheless.” Celestino secures the split in his flesh with several butterfly strips and wraps it up, touch efficient but not unkind. “Yuuri, take him home. I don’t want to see him here today or tomorrow.”

At this, Phichit finally turns away from Yuuri’s shoulder wand gives a disbelieving cry. “Tomorrow too? Ciao Ciao, that’s too much.”

“You can barely move,” his coach reiterates. “You need to give yourself a couple days to heal.”

“Mm…Fine, you’re right,” Phichit admits softly.  “Everything hurts. I don’t even want to stand, I can’t skate. Yuuri, please carry me.”

“Huh? Aright, I guess. You are smaller than me.” Yuuri blinks at him and then shifts his position on the bench, one arm around Phichit’s shoulders as he slips the other under his knees. To Phichit’s disbelief, he picks him up.

Phichit sputters and lets out a laughs that hurts, finds himself laughing again anyway. “Oh my god! Yuuri, put me down! I was kidding.”

Although Yuuri doesn’t carry him back, he walks closer to Phichit than normal and hovers the whole way.

“I don’t think you really had to come back with me,” Phichit tells him at the dorm, even though he’s grateful for the company.

“I know. I wanted to.” Yuuri chews at his lip. “It scared me, you know.”

“It wasn’t that bad of a fall. I mean, Ciao Ciao was right, I can’t move so great but I—“

“No, no, not that.” Yuuri sits down on Phichit’s bed next to him, and lightly touches his shoulder. “What happened to you. You could’ve gotten killed. It scares me to think about.”

“Might scare me a little more,” Phichit mumbles earnestly, fingers twitching to touch his temple. “But I’m okay.”

“This time,” Yuuri says, gaze hardening. “I don’t think we should leave alone too often. Or without telling each other how long we’ll be gone…Or maybe that’s going overboard. I don’t know, the whole thing just freaks me out. What if you didn’t come back at all? And I didn’t do anything because I assumed you ran into friends or something? What if I made a bad call not taking you to the hospital? Like, if you had internal bleeding or a head injury with late symptoms.”

“Okay, okay.” Phichit keeps his voice light and tries to pacify him. “Maybe it did scare you more. If there’s one thing I know about you, Yuuri, it’s that you’re really good at working yourself up.”

“Sorry.” Yuuri hangs his head.

“No, I’m glad you came back with me,” Phichit tells him. “I don’t really want to be alone right now.”

Yuuri’s lips twitch in a gentle smile. “I have some heat patches in here somewhere. Want me to find one for your back?”

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Phichit says, irresistibly touching the tender place and grimacing.

“This is such a small room. They can’t be far.” Yuuri crosses the short distance to his own bed and gets down, digging around beneath it.

Phichit gingerly lies down on his stomach and rests the uninjured side of his face on the pillow. It’s incredibly comforting just to close his eyes and listen to the sounds as Yuuri rustles through this and that, humming noises here and there under his breath.