#old men yell at clouds

[antilocaprine]

Frenrey w 23 or 50 (or if you feel you have the energy combine them? I feel they could be combined but it's your call)

(Kiss Prompt List)

50: ...out of love.

Gordon’s hair has mostly gone gray now, with white streaks from his temples and at the edges of his still-tightly-trimmed beard. He’s smugly proud of the volume of hair he still has. He doesn’t say this, of course, but Benrey can tell by the amount of time he puts into the combing and washing and trimming of it.

Benrey himself is going bald, mostly to make Gordon laugh and preen in comparison. He lets wrinkles form on his cheeks and brow, lets the bags under his eyes grow, and sprinkles some salt strands into his own dark hair.

They make quite a dignified couple, sitting on the front porch and looking out across the low mists wreathing the fields in the mountain town they moved to a decade after Joshua finished college and moved to Brazil. He’s partnered with some futuristic food company to work on the development of a new strain of cashews, and rides with the local gauchos in his time off. Gordon and Benrey talk to him several times a week on Gordon’s tablet, though Joshua whines about that at least once a month (“Dad, c’mon, let me get you a newer model, please”). But the tablet is the only thing left in the house that can load Benrey’s favorite old games, so Gordon refuses to upgrade.

Benrey thinks that feels a little like love.

“Did you see this?” Gordon says suddenly, and Benrey glances up from the tablet only to get a faceful of newsprint. 

“I see that you’re a grandpa,” Benrey grumbles and reaches up with one hand to push the newspaper back far enough that he can actually see the article Gordon is pointing to.

“Shut up,” Gordon says affectionately. “Tommy’s invested in the local news, we have to support it.”

“Tommy should’ve, uh, invested in something that’s better, then.” Benrey squints at the headline, then rears back, setting the porch swing (another mark in the grandpa column) to swaying. “Whuh - is that -?”

“Yes!” Gordon snaps, pulling the newspaper back and spinning it to glare down at the article. “Margaret Heinrichs is running for mayor!”

“She can’t even run a, uh, chili contest,” Benrey says.

“Exactly! And speaking of, look - look!” He holds the paper back up to Benrey’s face, one metal finger tapping aggressively at a line of text. “The firehouse is supporting her run! After what they said about the last chili cook-off!”

“Oh, what’d they say?” Benrey doesn’t remember hearing about this - though that may have been because he had to tiptoe around the house for two weeks after Gordon lost the cook-off on a technicality, even though all five judges agreed his chili was far better than Margaret’s.

“They said it was a disgrace,” Gordon says vehemently. “The chief himself told me that no one had ever enforced that rule before. Ten year’s residency, my ass - it’s fucking stupid!”

“It’s only been, what, eight years?” Benrey muses. “You gonna try again this year?”

“Fuck yes I’m gonna try again,” Gordon growls, newspaper crinkling in the tight grip of his metal hand. His flesh hand trembles a little these days, off and on, but the metal hand is strong and true. Benrey’s not sure how to feel about that sometimes.

“You gonna - same recipe?”

“No,” Gordon says, and gives him a feral grin. “I’m using a better one. Nuclear option or bust.”

Benrey’s eyebrows go up. “Oh, shit?”

“That’s right,” Gordon says, settling his shoulders against the porch swing’s backrest and smiling out at the thinning mist. “Grandma’s recipe.”

“Oh, shit,” Benrey chuckles. “Yeah, that’ll - that’ll knock their socks off.” He taps his foot against Gordon’s. Gordon snorts and taps him back.

“You and feet, man,” he says. “Always with the feet.”

“You love it,” Benrey replies automatically, and Gordon tilts his head toward him and smiles gently.

“Yeah,” he says. “I really, really do.”

They lapse into silence, and over the years Benrey has learned the different flavors of Gordon’s silences. This one starts out scheming, then transforms into something more wistful and contemplative. Benrey advances two more levels in his game, then decides he’s bored and hooks a foot behind Gordon’s ankle.

Gordon blinks and starts a little. “Hmm?”

“What’s your, uhhh plans?”

“Take down Margaret,” Gordon replies promptly.

Benrey huffs a short laugh. “No, I, uh. I meant for today.”

“Oh.” Gordon links his fingers and stretches his arms out in front of him, then catches the newspaper before it can slide off his lap. “I can’t just do that today?”

“Uh…” Benrey thinks for a moment. “I guess, but then we’d prob’ly have to, uh. Go into hiding or something.”

“Eh, Tommy could fix that for us,” Gordon says, waving a hand.

Benrey grins at him. “Okay, so, d’you wanna kill her?”

Gordon takes a deep breath and heaves a sigh that sounds like it comes all the way from his feet. (Yeah, okay, Benrey knows what he likes.) 

“I guess we shouldn’t,” he says. “Anyway, it’ll be way more satisfying to beat that hag at her own game.”

“Poison?”

Gordon snorts. “No, man, chili.”

“Poison in the chili?”

“Oh, now there’s a thought,” Gordon says, tapping at his lip with a metal finger. “But how to keep it away from the judges…?”

Benrey makes a dismissive noise, and Gordon cracks, cackling loudly enough that it startles a small flock of crows from the line of pine trees across the road.

“Let’s not even start,” Gordon says, lifting his glasses to wipe moisture from the corners of his eyes. “Don’t even - if I start thinking about how easy it would be to do, I’m gonna fucking do it, and then we really will have to leave.”

“Yeah, but - it’d be worth it,” Benrey says, leaning back and throwing an arm across the backrest. Gordon leans against it and sighs as Benrey curls his hand around Gordon’s shoulder.

“Nah, not yet. I like it here.”

They gaze out across the fields and toward the line of dark trees that the crows are circling back down into, still cawing reproachfully. Benrey’s tempted to change shape and go bother them, but he resists the urge. Sometimes when he changes back, he forgets to add the age marks - and he sees the look on Gordon’s face when Benrey appears, even for a moment, to be the same age he was the day they met. He’s not, of course - time moves forward for them all, even when it’s stopped - but Benrey’s appearance has always been under his control more than most.

“We should go make food,” Gordon says after a few minutes, but he makes no effort to move. Benrey runs his fingers up and down Gordon’s shoulder, and taps the inside of his ankle with his foot.

“Yeah?” Benrey mumbles, attention torn between playing his game one-handed and studying Gordon’s graying profile.

“Well,” Gordon says. “Eventually.”

The midmorning sun is finally breaking over the tall pine trees, its heat burning out the last wisps of mist. A car passes by on the county road - one of the newer models with hardlight tires. Benrey’s been in those, and he’s always a little disturbed by the silence. He much prefers the rattle and crunch of traditional rubber tires. At least then you know you’re connected to the road. Hardlight tires sound the same if they’re driving over a hill or driving off a cliff, and Benrey doesn’t trust what he can’t hear.

“D’you remember that brand of soda that we kept getting from those two vending machines? The ones outside Darnold’s lab?” Gordon’s voice sounds a bit distant, and Benrey’s grip on his shoulder tightens involuntarily.

“The one with the, uh, gamer colors?”

“Yes! Those ones.”

“I think it was, uh.” Benrey makes a face as he dredges his memories. “I think it was called Glub?”

“It was not.” Gordon’s voice is flat. Benrey shrugs.

“S’what I remember.”

“Is it? Fuck, how could I forget that?” Gordon’s voice trails off, and he leans further into Benrey’s side. “Fucking…Glub soda? Glub cans? Cans of Glub?”

“Can’t you Glub?” Benrey says, and he feels the memory ping in Gordon’s brain as he tenses, then laughs.

“That’s right - okay, I remember now. ‘I can Glub - can you Glub?’ We had Tommy going in circles.”

“You didn’t even like the flavor.”

“I didn’t! None of us did, it was terrible! No wonder no one outside Black Mesa has ever heard of it!”

“Well, scientists have no taste, so -” Benrey is interrupted by Gordon leaning back and whacking him playfully with the newspaper. He holds up one hand and struggles to continue. “So how could you tell if it was good or -”

“I will kill you,” Gordon cackles, and the porch swing sways wildly under them, the metal chains creaking. “Watch it, watch - you’re gonna break our fucking chair!”

“Oh noooo,” Benrey drawls, and goes for his own nuclear option to end the conflict. He wraps a hand around the back of Gordon’s skull and tugs him down into a teeth-clacking kiss.

Gordon laughs into his mouth and returns the kiss, quieting immediately. Benrey winds his fingers through the silver strands of Gordon’s hair and tugs gently. Gordon mumbles something unintelligible against his lips and cups Benrey’s face with both hands - one sun-warmed metal, and one blood-warmed flesh. The newspaper finally escapes to the wooden planks of the porch with a rustle.

Gordon disengages first, then smacks a kiss to the top of Benrey’s balding head. Benrey grins and tugs a lock of gray hair over Gordon’s shoulder, wrapping it around his finger and kissing it in turn - and that feels a little like love.

“So,” he says. “Margaret?”

Gordon’s face darkens. “Fuck Margaret,” he says. “Well, not - ugh, you know what I mean.”

Benrey snorts and runs a hand down Gordon’s arm to link their fingers together. “Yeah, I know.”

“C’mon,” Gordon says, and tugs their linked hands to pull Benrey to his feet, leaving the newspaper on the floor as he heads for the door. “I’ve got a chili recipe to find.”

Benrey raises their joined hands and presses a quick kiss to the back of Gordon’s knuckles as they head for the kitchen, and is only mildly surprised to feel metal against his lips. He hadn’t even noticed that it was Gordon’s prosthetic hand he was holding. They’re both Gordon’s, after all.

Soon, the kitchen will fill with the smell of browning meat, black beans, green chili, and spices. Soon, Benrey will be called upon to be the taste tester, and will have to come up with slightly different words of praise for each batch. Soon, Joshua will call and they will bicker over the tablet, and the upcoming cookoff, and the similarities of their two towns, separated by half a world. But right now, Benrey squeezes Gordon’s hand tighter, and admires the way the lines around his eyes crinkle when he smiles, and watches his silver hair dance as he whirls through the house, dragging Benrey after him like he can’t imagine doing anything without him.

And, well, okay. Benrey supposes that this all feels an awful lot like love.

#hlvrai #my words #kiss prompts #snippets #askbox #on anon #swearing #domestic #old men yell at clouds #aka local old lady monopolies #the text is looking super fucking weird - like some of it's bigger #but it says it's all the same size #so wtf #maybe it's just my monitor #we'll find out i guess

[chronologicalimplosion]

Thinking a lot about pendulums in fan culture and the number of "he WOULD NOT say that no one here would ever go to therapy" posts I see these days.

Listen, I've clicked out of fics for "he would not fucking say that" so many times. I also find fics with too much sanitized care over a certain sanctioned kind of communication a little uncanny and offputting. (So I use the back button, it's okay to not like things, dldr, etc)

But I don't think it's fair to characterize the people writing these fics as puritanical thought police unless they're actually trying to say their fic is more virtuous.

Sometimes you see a situation so messy that you want to see what would have to change to get them through it. Sometimes it's an art form to carve through all of the muck a canon presents and ask how they, too, could be redeemed. Sometimes the author has just learned about these interpersonal concepts and it feels less cringe to practice using those tools and scripts with your blorbos. Sometimes you want to make him worse, and sometimes you *do just want to fix him*. Sometimes your life sucks and you want to read a story where everybody makes the right choices and communicates and it all works out!

Sometimes the self-indulgence is whump and sex and pissing on the poor communication skills in a safe playground. Sometimes it's Blorbos Practice Active Listening Together.

#Did I feel the need to write this out for my own inner old man yelling at cloud #Because hoo boy there are Some Therapyspeak Fics in the Bucky Barnes tag on ao3? #I couldn't possibly say #It's not like I'm at the gay teens writing about men out of time adjusting to 2010s queer culture store

[kaleidoscopic-quiddity]

for anyone wondering about current public opinion on trans ppl in the uk, tories have #boycottcostacoffee trending on twitter bc this mural put on a random costa express van for brighton pride last year shows a person w/ top surgery scars and apparantly thats 'glorifying the irreversible mutilation of young women's bodies', so yeah, we're doing great (:

#transgender #transmisandry #transandrophobia #uk politics #uk news #terf island once again having a normal and sane one (: #og post // #ik its haha funny old man yells at cloud type energy that a bunch of tory losers have nothing better to do that complain abt a coffee van #but trans men are fucking HATED here. we're told our gender affirming care is mutilation #they paint us as confused little girls with body dysmorphia who are trying to 'escape' misogyny #how much terfs and transphobes damage the public perception of trans women gets a lot of attention and it absolutely should #but trans men are not an afterthought or dragged-in-bystander in their bigotry. we are direct targets

[notquiteaghost]

it is very weird to think about now all the years i spent dissociating regularly with absolutely no idea what was happening. clear memory of being sat in y10 geography telling my friends how sometimes when i'm talking it stops sounding like my voice & i start to leave my body entirely, and them dismissing it as me making stuff up. i knew what anxiety was i knew what depression was i did not have any words for how i felt like there was reality and then over there at the end of that long tunnel there was me. all i knew was i was alone in it. it was terrifying and i was alone in it.

#yelling at clouds #houston do you copy #part of why it is so jarring when people who aren't Very Dialled In on mental illness know what it is #if thirteen year old me had heard the word 'derealisation' in a bo burnham song..... #at fifteen i was watching random white men's vlogs cuz they were the only videos i cld find on youtube that werent psychology lectures

[theperplexedpoet]

and the old white men (go after TikTok)

we've got genocide and dictators to stop but we'll let that slide to go after TikTok and the old white men are still yelling at clouds look at how brazen, they're just so fucking proud not taking action on what really matters giving a fraction to make wallets fatter shortchange the people, the foundations, and rules pretend its legal play all of us for fools go through the motions up there atop the Hill with no devotion to constituents' wills we've got genocide and dictators to stop but we'll let that slide to go after TikTok and the old white men are still yelling at clouds look at how brazen, they're just so fucking loud throwing their tantrums their childish reactions made them their anthems purposed distractions shortchange the system, its mission, and justice act without wisdom and keep taking from us no interventions without lobbyists dimes with no intentions outside their bottom lines we've got genocide and dictators to stop but we'll let that slide to go after TikTok and the old white men are still beating this drum look at how brazen, they're just so fucking dumb (3/17/24)

#poetry #sociopolitical #melancholy & musings #us politics #tiktok #genocide #dictator trump #lawless legislators #old white men #yelling at clouds

[raylangivins]

everyone’s all “oh andrew garfield flirting on the red carpet, have some couth babygirl”. some of us were there for The Beginning! you would not believe the things that came out of this man’s mouth to jesse eisenberg specifically. what a time.

#nothing he has with any of these people contains half the yearning as 'you should've seen me at 13/i really wish i had' #not even kissing men on the mouth #andrew garfield #old man yells at cloud

[twcfaces]

"No one does bank heists anymore--- it's identity theft this, crypto scam that... how is that any fun?"

Okay, Grandpa. Let's get you back to Arkham.

#ic #old men yell at cloud #open?

[peanutblowandjobsandwich]

old men need to stop yelling at clouds you are not my daddy i'm scared n i'm going to cry

#no but the way i've come to like almost hate tht phrase #old men shld yell at the sun #heck they shld take a trip to it for all i care (i dont) #but stop yelling at clouds >:( #cloud nonsense

[alex-the-bringer-of-chaos]

Well the byler brainrot really did settle! This songs just started playing from my liked songs and dammit

This is Byler, this is Mike talking to Will. My heart! My eyes, watery over here! DAMN YOU BYLER BRAINROT!!!

#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things #it's happening fellas #the brainrot is too strong #dammit this song had aroace connotations for me #now it's byler #i lost it #damn you byler #insert *old men yells at cloud* #Spotify #song recs #love like you #rebecca sugar #steven universe

[sylvanas-girlkisser]

Honestly though, I would enjoy CR3 so much more, if not for the inclusion of Chetney.

Like, he's written with such a uniquely American hatred for the world around you and it's dragging the pathos of the entire campaign down with him. The central premise of his character is "haha old people are annoying" with a side of "lmao look at this idiot committing his life to a craft, doesn't he know about Amazon?" The cast treats the very notion that age can bring knowledge as absurd. Even when Dorian or Orym try to uplift him it gets shot down by Travis so he can make more jokes about being a gross old pervert.

Like, his character is a retired toymaker dealing with a chronic illness, there is room for so much compassion there, and it doesn't have to come at the cost of Chetney's hard exterior, but Travis doesn't want that, he wants a gross old man and also occasionally to play a werewolf.

And now he's going around traumatizing people for fun and its treated like this gag of "oh that Chetney he's so silly" again instead of treating the NPCs with the kind of humanity they usually attribute to them.

I dunno it just has the vibes of like, when you let that one new player join the table and he insists on bringing his murderhobo who does not gel with anything and just keeps sticking his dick in the emotional moments.

And like, even Travis is evidently fighting back against the character going that wayby showing him giving thoughtful gifts, but then 10 minutes later we're back to "old man masturbates in public" jokes.

Like I dunno dude maybe you just need to call the character a dud and start over.

#valk yelling at clouds #Also why did he feel the need to play two old men one right after the other #who both had the same premise of old men are gross and should be out in a home #it's times like these I'm reminded most of the CR cast are hets

[ethosuximide]

I have been trans, on the internet, for almost 20 years now. And there's this weird pattern that happens whenever trans men try to articulate our specific issues as trans men. We get huge amounts of pushback for vague and suspicious reasons!

It's almost...almost like people have a specific animus against trans men existing as trans men...if only we had a word for that...

#transmisandry #transandrophobia #trans men #ftm #transmasc #transmaculine #discourse #sorry to anyone who followed me for dumb minecraft shenanigans and get a cranky old man yelling at clouds

[bobby-jones67910]

The kids love lazer tag ! I HATE lazer tag. These """lazerous""" don't do anything, my skin is intact and I don't have any brazes .THIS SUCX ❗❗❗❗SHAM

#bobby jones #bobby jones official #old man #timbles #old men of timbles #old man yells at cloud #old man yells at lazers #lazer tag #tag #lazers #hashtag #hash browns #sham #callout post #lazershame #no #die #lazerous #beams #wood beams #wood beans #bean #canned beams in your area #because they SUCK #sucky sucky suck #sux #sussex

[rincent-van-uggh]

I keep seeing people say we shouldn't say "consume content" because it sounds to them like identifying as a consumer under capitalism and its reductive of the art. But i say consume as the generic term for "watch" "read" "listen" etc. I consume all kinds of content and sometimes it's impractical or innacurate to specify how i consume it. And it's not consuming because I'm a market consumer, it's consuming like how I consume food and time. It's a perfectly fine way to talk about engaging with art.

#stop yelling at clouds you old men

[raylangivins]

Turkish trip ending with a bang! (Being harassed by the taxi driver for the entire drive to the airport and then crying about it on the phone to my mam 😀)

#unfortunately—as you probably already know—men #old man yells at cloud

[inkskinned]

nobody ever gets the mugshot of gluttony right. these days you think it has nothing to do with bodyweight. what a good trick: that gluttony could take a shape. no, there was never any fault in finishing a meal or in taking second helpings. it was always in taking from others that there was an issue - the oil baron's fingers steepled over dead bodies and stolen lands. gluttony - twin of greed, although most think greed and envy are the siblings - gluttony is pleased with the experience of gaining, is thrilled just-by-having. greed is the one that stays hungry, that has to move forever like a shark. gluttony likes it - "a glutton for punishment" is one who is seeking the harm, who loves the rush.

gluttony is a mother using her daughter's body for a diet testing ground, sharpening the bone angles. gluttony is saying why, well not! to the seventh and eighth mansion or yacht. it is not just wanting the six white horses, it is making sure that the horses came from your stables. it is not just bathing in milk - it is bathing in milk while others are starving.

oh, it's true that some sins still blaze in their bright floral prints. wrath in a white woman yelling at a person of color for even daring to be in her neighborhood. the red, incipient rage of a neck tightened at even the thought we would take the guns away. wrath has laurels, and she is good at her job, and works hard.

but sloth wasn't ever the sleepy morning of depression, the hours spent begging a clouded body to please move goddamn it; the protestant work ethic claiming even rest is somehow demonic. it was never chronic fatigue. sloth was subtle, a grey mist. she is watching you get bullied and she is deciding it is none of her business. she crosses the picket line because - what! it's just chicken, isn't it? she is closing her eyes and turning her head when the next anti-gay legislation passes. someone else will handle it. not the tense freeze of anxiety or a lack of preparation - she knows you're hurting and would rather you stay quiet about it. she tells other people i just don't see what the big deal is.

sloth is a father that doesn't do the dishes. sloth is your boyfriend's innocent shrug you're just better at household shit. sloth isn't the missed opportunity - it is the purposeful desire to just get-someone-else-to-do-it.

greed and envy are doing body shots in the back of a private jet. they are the way they always have been, but are lovers in the age of the internet. greed just finished union busting, is rolling a bitcoin over his knuckles, is about to start another MLM. envy is in a broadbrimmed hat, showing off her instagram life, grinning about how if you want it, work for it.

okay, it's true. you have a soft spot for lust, gathering dust in a corner. so tame in comparison to the others. but how funny lust is always painted as being a woman in tight clothes. you've met actually lustful women - the ones that purposefully climb into your partner's lap, the ones that say lesbians are gross but ask bisexual women into bed with their husbands. a lustful woman is not donned in lace and garters and red: that's how men think lust looks, painting their own sins into frame. this way, the sin displaces as fog and hovers above her: a woman in a dress is lust; what the man experiences is just the natural consequence.

here is the thing: lust is doing just fine, save your pity. lust is running more circles than any of them. lust is shutting down safe sexwork sites while also making teenagers in knee-high socks sex sensations. lust is CEO of an advertising network where women never pass 25 years old. all the bras lust makes are pretty to look at but, when worn, legitimately hurt. lust has a podcast, his fur coat looped around his shoulders, sells the idea that only certain people have value, that sex raises some and destroys others. lust is tilting his head and asking what did you expect when you dress like that? lust shuns you, sneers that everything you want is disgusting and taboo - right until he can figure out how to capitalize off of it. lust has the midas ability: everything he touches becomes an object.

people usually say wrath is the scary one. you agree with FMA here, though: the real dangerous one is pride, and the shit-eating grin. the white cloaks and the nationalism and the inability to apologize. it is every partner who threw a book at your head because you don't respect him. it is every mother who said my son doesn't deserve to have his life ruined over allegations. it is the teacher that fails you because you talked back.

you worry you have this one. you feel guilty when you need help but don't ask for it. prideful. ashamed when you complete something and feel good about it. too proud for your own good. but pride is not the reward of hard work or accomplishment: pride is a twitter feed. it is the thing that has to mask i didn't do anything with look at me.

pride is your father's raised hand, his raised voice. how he was never there when you needed him, but he is still "head of house." he ruins dinner and blames it on you: you're an embarrassment to this family. this is the glass you walk around, the cuts in your feet. how he says this isn't how i raised you and you have to bite back the retort: that's because you didn't actually fucking raise me.

#i personally think having any of these desires is totally fine. it's when u use them to hurt others #it's why having ambitions =/= greed: as long as ur ambition isn't ''i hope i can take someone elses good things'' #writeblr #warm up #seven deadly sins

[woahthisguy4721]

.

#me 🤝 **** #no one ever asks how was the pointless hater behavior did you have fun at the pointless hater behavior #just some old men yelling at clouds #gosh i wanna slorp him like a milkshake