#//So I hope post-argument John is okay?

[arthur-r]

not to use tumblr for peer review but how does this thesis feel to you??

There is no ontologically binding truth of the human condition, and each culture, society, and individual develops singular morals and ideologies in response to its own external stimuli. Humans are often considered a special, separate realm of creature, but at our core we hold no essence to separate ourselves from the rest of nature, and our identity is as mutable as the society we live in. Human identity is preserved through the passing of stories down through generations, but the capitalistic culture in our world today encourages the suppression of sympathetic ideas and behavior which make up a large part of human tradition. The idea of humanity as a definitive and singular distinction from the rest of the natural world is detrimental to our understandings of ourselves and one another as citizens of the world; it is up to each individual to define themself, creating a human identity they are comfortable inhabiting and diminishing the impact of the dominant paradigm’s overblown ascendancy over nature.

[alyswritings]

High School Fight

JJ Maybank x daughter!reader

Summary: Y/N gets into a fight at school.

Warnings: mentions of fighting, mentions of groping

a/n: got this from a comment on this post. so it's kind of a part 2, but not really. loved the idea, thank you to the commenter! hope y'all enjoy!

(gif not mine)

JJ is working on his car, just doing a routine check up. John B is over with his 5 year old son, the boy playing in the yard with whatever he can find while the two adults talk.

JJ's sentence is cut off as his phone rings. He quickly wipes the grease off his hands on a bandana and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He frowns at the number, answering it.

"Hello?" He asks.

"Mr. Maybank?" A woman asks.

"Yeah." He says.

"Hi. This is Alexandra Harrington. I'm the secretary at Y/N's school." She explains, though JJ already knows. "We need you to come down to the school and pick up Y/N."

"Why? Is she okay?" JJ immediately grows concerned.

"That would depend on the definition of okay." Alexandra remarks, only worrying JJ more. "She got into a fight and is facing suspension."

"What?" JJ scoffs.

"Please, just come down to the school." Alexandra tells.

"I-- yeah. Yeah, I'll be right there." JJ says before hanging up.

"Everything good?" John B asks.

"I don't know. Y/N got in a fight at school." JJ informs.

"Ooh. Mini Maybank strikes again." John B grins.

"Shut up." JJ rolls his eyes. "I'll see you guys later."

"Later." John B bids, the two doing the pogue handshake. "Come on, buddy!" He calls out to his son.

---

JJ walks into the school, having quickly changed into clean clothes so he wasn't covered in grease. He finds Y/N sitting outside the office, slouched in her seat, her arms crossed over her chest.

There's a boy and girl on the bench next to her, both quietly talking to each other. He notices the bruises and scratch marks on their faces.

"Hey." JJ calls making Y/N sigh. She doesn't respond, which slightly annoys JJ. "Y/N." He sternly calls, putting his hand on top of her head and forcing her head back. He freezes at her black eye, split lip, and the cut on her cheek. "What the fuck?" His tone immediately changes to anger as he cups her chin, moving her head to inspect the injuries better.

"Dad, I'm fi--"

"What the fuck happened?" He questions.

"The principal will explain it." Y/N rolls her eyes. "Stupid bitch." She grumbles under her breath.

"I want your side." JJ says before he goes into the office.

"Mr. Maybank. Wish I was seeing you under better circumstances." The principal says.

"Right. What the hell happened?" JJ questions.

"Your daughter's a little psycho." The mother of the girl sneers.

"Excuse you?" JJ glares at her. "You better watch it, lady, or you're gonna match your kid out there." He threatens. The woman's jaw drops in offense, giving the principal a look.

"Mr. Maybank, relax. Physical violence is not the answer." The principal quickly intervenes.

"Your kid is the one going around and beating up innocents." The father of the boy says.

"No. No, I know my daughter, she's always got a reason. So your kids are the fucking problem." JJ argues.

The other two quickly retaliate, throwing insults about Y/N, the three adults getting into an argument.

"Enough!" The principal shouts, effectively shutting the three up. "Now... we have two stories. Y/N's story and then Jason and Ashley's story."

"Y/N's a little liar." Ashley's mother states.

"You really don't wanna piss me off, lady." JJ seethes, his hand clenching into a fist.

"We don't have any evidence of which story is true, only our beliefs." The principal says. "Jason and Ashley's story is they were trying to talk to Y/N, make plans, and she just lost it and starting hitting them."

JJ scoffs, his eyes rolling into the back of his head out of disbelief.

"And these idiots believe that shit?" JJ asks, pointing to the two parents.

"Excuse you?" The woman glares.

"You wanna say that to my face, pal?" The man sneers.

"Didn't I just do it?" JJ retorts.

The three teens listen from the outside, Y/N's lips quirking up at her father's remarks.

"Calm down." The principal orders. "Now, Y/N's story is Jason was hitting on her and wouldn't leave her alone even after she told him no. She says she didn't throw the first punch until he grabbed her bottom."

"He what?" JJ fumes, using all of his strength to not go beat up the little boy himself.

"She says Ashley was there with him and taunting her, calling her a bitch and insulting her home life along with constantly tripping her and tugging on her hair." The principal explains.

"I'm gonna--" JJ seethes, his jaw clenched so tightly his teeth could break.

"You won't be doing anything, Mr. Maybank. Unless you'd like to go to jail." The principal warns. JJ takes a deep breath, burying his anger.

"So what? She gets in trouble for defending herself?" JJ asks. "That's fucking stupid."

"Defending herself from what?" Jason's dad scoffs. "Jason didn't do anything wrong."

"He disrespected her boundaries. He touched her ass, that's pretty fucking wrong, you dumb fuck!" JJ's voice raises near the end.

"He was being persistent. She was playing hard to get." The guy argues.

"She didn't want him in any way, whatsoever! No means no." JJ states.

"Ashley did no wrong." Her mom insists.

"Aside from being a fucking brat." JJ scoffs making the woman give him an appalled look. "She should also be old enough to know that she should keep her hands to herself. Plus, that golden rule parents are always so insistent about. Nothing nice to say, shut the fuck up. She should learn that rule."

"You do not talk about my daughter that way." The woman sneers.

"She hurt my daughter. I'm not gonna stand for that." JJ says. "Or for your son being a little prick."

"He was just trying to get her attention." The man protests. "Little ass grab never hurt anybody, especially if the girl's a hottie."

Ashley's mother screams when JJ's fist connects with Jason's dad's cheek. The three teens jump at the noise, turning back to see the chaos.

"Mr. Maybank!" The principal yells, rushing over. "Enough! That is enough!" She gets between the two men before they can start a brawl.

"All three children are suspended for two weeks for violating the rules. And unless you want them expelled, I suggest you three take them home and try your best to avoid each other for the rest of your lives. Or at least until these kids graduate."

"If they all graduate." Ashley's mother rolls her eyes.

JJ starts to charge for her, but the principal holds him back.

"I especially advise you to leave, Maybank. For you and your daughter's own good." The principal says.

"No. No, I'm leaving for their own good." JJ points to the other two parents. "Cause if I don't, they're going six feet under a little younger than they anticipate."

The principal sighs as the other two parents start to complain about the threat.

JJ leaves the office, rolling his eyes out of frustration and anger.

"C'mon." He motions for his daughter to get up. He grabs her backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. Y/N gets up, JJ placing his hand on her back to lead her out.

"You're a little bitch, Jason." JJ calls back before the two exit the school.

They get outside and JJ manages to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

"You okay?" Y/N asks, looking up at her dad, not sure if she should be amused or concerned or both.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." JJ runs his hand over his head, messing his hair up. "I'm sorry. I-I shouldn't jeopardize your school like that."

"Not jeopardizing it anymore than I am." Y/N chuckles. "Plus, school system sucks anyway. Don't give too many shits."

"Are you okay?" JJ asks, his concerned father side overtaking him as he observes the injuries on her face. He brushes her hair back to get a better look at them, thumb lightly grazing over the black eye.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's fine. They look worse." Y/N grins.

"Yes, they do." JJ proudly laughs.

"So, am I grounded?" Y/N asks.

"No. No, you're never grounded for standing up for yourself." JJ reassures. "Ice cream?"

"Rocky road." Y/N immediately lights up making JJ softly smile at her.

"Rocky road it is, princess." JJ promises, kissing her on the head.

He opens the passenger door for her and she climbs in, JJ shutting it after she's in. He throws her backpack into the bed of the truck, going over to the other side and getting in, starting the engine.

Taglist: @glxwingrxse @venomsvl @wildieflower @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @mrvlxgrl @star-wars-lover @champomiel @ironmaiden1313

[woman-of-balnain]

maybe a smut where the reader is jealous after seeing mary and arthur hanging out, argument sex brrrrr. <<33

Masterlist | A03 Ver. | Part 2

Title: Bold as Love

A/N: Hopefully this is what you wanted anon! I'm used to writing a more soft and affectionate Arthur, but this was definitely a fun change for me. I hope it's okay... I took your request as wanting him more on the dominant side.

Also, I hope it's ok to cross-post this on A03. If not, just send me another anon ask to let me know and I'll delete it.

Warnings: Possessive Reader, Possessive Arthur, Jealous Reader, Arthur and Reader fighting for dominance, arguing, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, NOT proofread, I literally wrote it and posted it, so there might be mistakes.

Word Count: 2,781

Dividers by: cafekitsune + newlips

Your blood boiled when you saw them together. If Miss Grimshaw hadn’t let you come into the city that day, leaving your chores back at camp to get what Arthur had requested from the store, then you wouldn’t have even known. It was only by chance that you even found out, which made it so much worse.

You remembered seeing her come into camp, back when the gang was at Horseshoe Overlook and leaving that letter for Arthur. And of course, he’d gone straight to her, as if no time had passed, as if she hadn’t hurt him all those years ago, as if he wasn’t with you now.

He’d reassured you afterwards, told you what happened and more importantly what didn’t happen, but it had taken a while for him to calm you down. That was what made seeing him with Mary again, outside the Théâtre Râleur, hurt and anger you so much more.

She had her arm linked with his, pressing her body close to your man and laughing coyly at something he’d said. You had watched them coming out of the building, which told you they’d just watched a show together. Dim lighting, seated closely together for a whole show… the possibilities were endless in your mind and just made you feel worse.

Almost as though he sensed angry eyes on him, Arthur turned his head away from Mary, looking around before his gaze met with yours. A look of surprise spread over his features, but there was no guilt. You didn’t really know if that was a good thing or not.

Mary followed his gaze, wondering why his attention had strayed away from her. She looked at you with confusion, even though you’d already met when you took the letter for Arthur from her at the old camp.

“Do you two know each other?” Mary enquired.

Her voice was soft and pleasant. A stark contrast to how you saw her.

“Yeah,” was all Arthur said, eyes still not leaving you.

His blasé answer was the worst one he could have chosen in your mind. He didn’t tell her that you were together, that he was now yours. He didn’t put up any boundaries and it caused your anger to get almost to its breaking point.

“Oh,” she looked at you with faint recognition. “You’re one of those… girls…”

The way she said it made it clear how she saw you. Like some two-bit whore who she viewed with obvious disdain. There was nothing wrong with being a working girl. Abigail had been one before she fell for John. But you weren’t that to Arthur and you wanted to make it very clear to her.

“I’m his girl,” you gestured to Arthur, the venom dripping from your voice.

Mary glanced at him with uncertainty, but he just gave you a strange look, as though you were intruding on a moment you shouldn’t have been. As though your hurt and anger and jealousy were unwarranted somehow.

“I have to take Mary to the station,” he told you, voice deep and gravelly.

It was the tone he had when he was either angry or very, very turned on. You knew it was the former this time though.

“I’ll see you back at camp,” he continued, dismissing you.

You clenched your fists, fingernails digging into the skin of your palms as he began walking away, Mary’s arm still linked with his. He was acting like such a… gentleman with her. You knew a softer, more affectionate and loving side to Arthur in your private moments, but the way he was being with her seemed almost unnatural compared to his true personality.

She turned her head only once as they walked away, still eyeing you with uncertainty before saying something quietly to him. You didn’t hear what she said, but it didn’t matter. You’d seen and heard enough.  

You’d kept to yourself after returning to Shady Belle. Your chores were done in record time and before Miss Grimshaw could find other tasks for you, you’d stormed off to the open area behind the house. Hiding yourself away, you sat behind one of the smaller, empty buildings and tried to sort through your feelings regarding Arthur and seeing him with Mary.

That was where he found you, late in the afternoon, when the sun had almost met the horizon.

“There you are,” he said, his tone the soft lilt you were used to in private moments like this.

“What do you want?” You fumed, unable to hide the anger still bubbling inside you.

“Darlin’, why’re you so angry?” He asked.

You looked up to glare at him before standing so he wasn’t towering over you.

“Are you serious right now, Arthur? I catch you off on a date with her and you ask me why I’m angry?”

“It wasn’t a date,” he insisted.

“Whatever,” you were seething, letting all the pent-up emotions spill forth. “I don’t care what it was. I don’t like it.”

“Mary… she was just askin’ for a favour.”

“To go to the theatre?” You asked incredulously. “I’m not an idiot, Arthur.”

“Sweetheart, it’s like you said. You’re my girl.”

The sweet endearments didn’t feel so sweet right then, so you continued taking your anger out on him.

“No, I’m not yours,” you hissed. “Not anymore. Not after that. You want her so bad? Go have her. But you and me? We’re done.”

Arthur’s gaze darkened but you ignored it, moving to brush past him and head back towards the main house. You didn’t get very far though because he grabbed your arm and held you in place.

You felt Arthur move so that he was right behind you, chest pressed against your back. His arms snaked tightly around your body, keeping you firmly in place.

“Calm down,” he said lowly in your ear.

His own voice was too composed for your liking, like he wasn’t taking you seriously.

“Just let me go,” you struggled against him.

“No,” he kept you held in his arms. “Take it back.”

That angry tone was coming back, the one that always sent shivers down your spine. You tried to resist it, but when he started pressing kisses along your neck, it became harder.

“Cut it out,” you snapped at him.

“Take it back,” he repeated, lips brushing against your skin. “Say you’re mine.”

His teeth nipped at the place where your neck and shoulder met, and you let out an involuntary moan. You could feel the curve of his lips as he smiled against your skin and when his arms loosened a little in their hold around you, it was the perfect chance to free yourself. So that’s exactly what you did.

Turning to face him, you saw him get irritated as well, annoyed that you were still so defiant. You opened your mouth to say something snarky to him, but Arthur didn’t give you a chance. He closed the distance between you, taking hold of your hair and pulling your head back a little, forcing you to look him in the eye.

You glared at him, and he challenged you right back with his own commanding and unwavering stare. When he saw that you weren’t going to give in, Arthur smashed his lips against yours in an angry and domineering kiss.

You struggled a little, still infuriated with him, but his hold on your hair and the other arm he had wrapped around your waist made it impossible to get away. His lips were bruising and dominant against your own, forcing you to submit.

Eventually, you gave up, giving in and opening your mouth a little wider, allowing his tongue to wrestle with yours. You moaned again, unable to deny how much you loved this forceful side of him.

You always got lost in the feel of his lips, the things he could do with his tongue, the firm grip of his hands, the coarse hair on his cheeks and around his lips that tickled and teased your skin… it was all familiar. It was all yours and you weren’t about to have it any other way.

You managed to pull your head back a little, his grip on your hair having loosened at your submission to his kiss. Breaking your mouth away from his, you looked into his eyes, seeing the way his pupils were dilated and his hair was wild and messy from your fingers running through it.

“You say it first,” you demanded breathlessly.

“What?” He asked, like he was in a bit of a daze.

“Say you’re mine,” you insisted, your tone a little more composed this time. “Only mine.”

“You’re beautiful when you’re jealous, darlin’,” he teased, lips curving up into a devilish grin. “All wild and ferocious.”  

“Say it,” you demanded again.

His gaze softened a little, but the dark lust never left his eyes.

“I’m yours,” he promised.

It was enough for you, so you brought your lips back to his, both of your lips fighting for dominance. You gasped into his mouth when you felt him slam you against the wall of the small building you’d previously been sitting by. His hands were everywhere, possessively exploring your body.

“You’re mine too,” he murmured against your lips. “Ain’t you?”

It was spoken like a question, but you knew it wasn’t. He was telling you to admit it, but you weren’t ready to just yet, so you refused to answer, seeking his lips for another kiss instead.

“You’re really pissed off, huh?” He let out a light laugh, pulling back so you couldn’t kiss him again.

You just glared at him once more, feeling like he should know the answer to that. Arthur didn’t seem to mind, his hands reaching down and taking hold of your skirt. The fabric bunched up under his hold, snaking up your legs tantalisingly until the entirety of your lower body was revealed to him.

His gaze darkened even more when he saw that you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said, tone more menacing than anything else. “I’ll have you admittin’ it for me soon enough.”

You looked down, seeing the way his erection was straining against his pants and you couldn’t help but to get turned on by the insinuation of his intentions. You could feel the desire spreading through your lower belly, and the way your pussy reacted, already getting wet.

Arthur took hold of one of your hands, bringing it to his clothed cock. You let your instinctual lust take over for a moment, cupping your hand around it and relishing the faint groan that escaped his lips.

If this was how he wanted to play it, you decided to comply. You were quick to get rid of his gun belt before unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down his hips. When his cock sprung free, you saw that it was already fully hard, and it just spurred you on even more.

Your hand wrapped around it, tugging up and down on the velvety skin that covered the steel hardness underneath. His lips sought yours again and he groaned deeply into your mouth as your thumb swiped over the head of his cock.

It wasn’t long before he took control again, though, because he pushed your hands away from him before using one of his to grasp your hip tightly and the other to line him up at your entrance.

Your head fell back onto the wall behind you with a moan as he moved his cock back and forth along your slit, coating it in your wetness.

“Your body can’t lie to me, darlin’,” he groaned out. “You can be angry, but you’re still mine.”

You reached down, taking control by grasping his cock and putting it right where you wanted it. You pushed your hips forward, causing him to enter you and savouring the way his eyes fluttered shut and his mouth fell slightly open at the feel of your tight walls squeezing down on him.

“Yours doesn’t lie either,” you grit out, thrusting up your hips a little.

Both his hands gripped at your waist forcefully, ensuring that he had some hold over how much you could move. Arthur lifted you until your legs wrapped around his own waist and then he began thrusting into you.

“Just… admit it,” he managed to get out, voice rough as he slammed into you.

“No.”

Yet, with each time his cock entered you, it pushed a little deeper and teased that one spot that always brought you undeniable pleasure. If you kept letting him have all of the control, it would be a losing battle for you.

You squeezed down on his cock, milking him and causing him to get lost in the feel of you again.

“Why didn’t you tell her that I’m yours if it means so much to you?”

To your ever-increasing frustration, Arthur just grinned.

“Wanted you to get jealous,” he admitted, one hand moving down to grip your thigh as he continued pounding into your tight pussy. “Because you’re so god damned gorgeous like this.”

“I’m not jealous,” you lied, wanting to goad him. “I’m done. Enjoy this, because it’s the last time.”

His fingers dug into the skin of your thigh possessively at your words and he brought his lips back to your neck, covering your body completely with his. It meant that every sensation you felt was from him. The familiar smell of Arthur wrapped around you and all you could feel was his hands, his lips, his tongue…

“You’re mine, sweetheart,” he insisted again, teeth scraping at the column of your throat. “This pussy is mine and you know it. Just admit it.”

He was clearly frustrated with you too and while it brought you satisfaction, you knew that you wouldn’t last much longer. His long, thick, perfect cock was dominating every aspect of you, eating away at your resolve.

“Apologize then,” you requested of him softly.

He pulled his head back to look at you, his pace never once faltering and the dark desire never leaving his eyes.

“’M sorry,” he admitted instantly.

You knew it was sincere, you could see it in his eyes. He may have liked frustrating you and making you jealous, but you could see in that moment that he realised the hurt you felt too.

“She… doesn’t… mean anything… to me,” he promised, getting the words out between his deep and brutal thrusts. “Not anymore. Not since you.”

“Good,” you replied heatedly, pulling his head closer. “Because you’re mine and I’m yours.”

He was obviously pleased with you finally admitting it and your lips met in another kiss, tongues moving languidly this time, as you savoured the feeling of one another. You could feel the familiar build up within you, knowing that you were close. Bucking your hips slightly, you let him know without words what you needed, and Arthur was quick to oblige.

He knew you like the back of his hand, every aspect, and every desire. So, his hand left its bruising hold on your thigh and moved upwards, caressing and teasing your skin until his fingers finally brushed against your aching clit.

You squeezed down around him again and he broke the kiss, his head falling to your shoulder. His thumb moved perfectly against your sensitive nub, rubbing in circles, and applying just the right amount of pressure.

“God…” you moaned out, now constantly milking his cock inside you as your pussy edged closer and closer to release. “Arthur…”

“That’s my girl,” he murmured against your skin, loving the way you said his name. “Let go, darlin’. I wanna feel you cum around me.”

With two more strokes of his thumb against your clit, along with a teasing nip of his teeth against your shoulder, you came undone around him. Your back arched and your body was overcome with ecstasy.

Your orgasm washed over you blissfully and the vice-like grip paired with the spasming of your pussy sent Arthur over the edge too. You felt his cum fill you up, as well as his cock throbbing deep inside you and it just made your own orgasm intensify.

His lips never seemed to leave your skin through it all, pressing countless soft and loving kisses all over your neck and then up to your jawline and finally on your cheeks. As you both came down from your highs and your frustrations with each other ebbed away, his fingertips stroked along your thighs.

“You’re… incredible…” he breathed out, nuzzling against your cheek affectionately.

You turned your head to capture his lips once more, determined to make sure he never forgot it again.  

--

Part 2

--

[gumnut-logic]

Raindrops

This was sparked by a prompt from the wonderful @womble1 :

Falling asleep on a balcony and getting woken up by rain.

It is rather random and fluffy with just a touch of hurt, with lots of comfort. Earth and Sky, big and not so big brothers.

Many thanks to the amazing @onereyofstarlight for reading through a one shot that should have taken a couple of hours, but since I didn't have a couple of hours, took three days instead, so was read through twice. You are so kind to me.

The first bit of this was posted in the last few days for WIP Wendesday, but there is plenty more after those little bits. Sky had a mind of his own and took over the fic.

I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

“Virgil.”

Something tickled his nose.

“Virgil.”

Something wet landed on his cheek. Another followed it. And another.

“Virgil!”

“Wha-?”

“Virgil, there is a weather system tracking across the Island, you might want to go inside.” John’s voice was achingly patient.

Virgil, sprawled across a lounger on the residential balcony, blinked only to have water land in his eyes. A blurry hesitation and the decking beside him took up percussion as rain swept in with its full tropical intentions.

The weather changed faster than Virgil’s brain could boot from a dead sleep. So when he leapt up, his faculties were not at full function.

Fortunately, he was well practised at moving fast with zero thought.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t usually on a wet balcony in the rain, and a misplaced foot hampered by a moonboot was enough to send him reeling.

He was faced with the split-second realisation that he was going to fall and there was nothing he could do about it. Gravity took over and he was going down.

Except he wasn’t the fastest moving person in the house.

“Woah! I’ve got you!” Two familiar and strong arms wrapped around him, preventing yet another collision with something hard..

After all, that was how he ended up with the broken foot in the first place.

“I’ve got you.” The repetition was as reassuring as it was annoying. “Are you okay?’

Virgil looked up at his brother. The rain was really coming down now and Scott’s hair was beginning to drip into his eyes. Worried eyes, damnit.

“I’m f-“ The ‘ine’ was stolen by a sudden clap of thunder. What the hell?

Scott shook his head and lifting Virgil’s arm around his shoulder, hurried him into the safety of the residential villa.

Stepping out of the rain was a relief. Tropical rain was a species all of its own, heavy, sudden, and determined.

“Sorry, guys, I should have used an airhorn.” John’s voice bounced down from orbit with exasperation.

Virgil grunted at that, not entirely in disagreement, but not willing to give in, or to use the brain cells required for a comprehensible response.

“Or perhaps alerted us earlier.” Scott’s voice was disapproving.

Virgil sighed. Scott was still in post ‘brother trying to get himself killed’ alert mode. “It was a little rain.” He was pointedly ignoring the waterfall on the glass windows. “It wasn’t going to kill me. John’s busy. Let him have a life.”

“He’s right, Virgil. I should have woken you earlier. Or alerted Scott earlier.”

“What?” He really didn’t have the energy for an argument. “Whatever. I’m going to bed. Thanks for the save.” He pulled away gently from his big brother and stepped in the direction of his rooms.

Only to lose his balance again and nearly land on his face.

But, of course, big hero brother swooped in and caught him. “Take it easy.” Again with the arm around Scott’s shoulder and ignoring Virgil’s half-assed protest, his big brother began helping him towards his rooms.

“You know I can walk.”

Scott sighed. “I’m basing my decision on your last two attempts. You don’t get a third to try and break yourself further.”

Virgil grunted, annoyed at himself more than anything else.

They hobbled their way through Virgil’s door and into his living space. “Couch or bed?” Scott’s eyes bounced between the two options before latching onto Virgil himself.

“Bed.” He had been asleep because he was tired. “Want to finish what I started.”

“FAB.”

There was some more hobbling, this time through his bedroom door, and finally, his brother lowered him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Sit there for a second and I’ll go grab a towel.”

It was only then that Virgil realised his hair was dripping into his eyes and was much to blame for the blurriness of his vision.

“Here you go.” Scott emerged from the bathroom with a handful of towel. But instead of handing it to him, he made an attempt to wipe Virgil down himself.

Apparently, the laser beams shooting out of Virgil’s eyes must have missed their mark, or been completely obliterated by Scott dumping the towel on Virgil’s head and drying his hair.

Virgil waved his hands about, trying to swipe his big brother away, “You do know I’m a grown up.”

Scott wasn’t fazed. “Sure do.” The towel was rubbed through Virgil’s hair, haystacking it, down his neck, and wrapped around so Scott could wipe his face dry.

“Scott-!” The towel muffled the rest of his protest.

“What?” Scott had finished his face and started on his shoulders, but he frowned, tossed the towel aside and began unbuttoning Virgil’s wet linen shirt.

That was enough. Virgil caught his brother’s hands and held them still, glaring up at his older brother. “What are you doing?”

Blue honesty shone back at him. “You’re wet.”

“I am fully capable of looking after myself.”

“Of course you are.” A twist of his lips. “When you’re awake.”

“I am awake.”

“That is up for debate.” Scott sighed and sat down in the chair beside Virgil’s bed. “Fine. Be my guest.”

When did that chair get there? That chair wasn’t usually there, but on the other side of the room.

He sat there pondering the fact for the moment.

“Virgil?” A hand waved in front of his eyes.

Virgil whacked it.

“Ow.”

“You earned that.” Virgil undid the remaining buttons and shucked the linen shirt off his shoulders. Of course, every bruise bitched at him for it, but he was determined not to show any reaction.

He didn’t miss his big brother’s eyes landing on those bruises, though.

“Scott, it wasn’t your fault. Shit sometimes just happens.”

Quiet. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.” But his eyes were still tracking over Virgil’s chest.

“If you don’t stop that, I’m putting the damned shirt back on.” Or grabbing another one. He pushed himself to his feet and carefully, and stubbornly, made his way over to his dresser. He shoved open a drawer and dug out an old t-shirt. He threw it on, not even bothering to towel himself dry.

He leant on the cabinet a moment, back to his brother, ever so aware of the eyes still tracking him. “Scott-“

“I want to help you.”

It was said calmly, but with just that hint of Commander combined with worried big brother desperate to make amends.

Virgil turned slowly. “Scott-“

His brother shot to his feet and stepped into Virgil’s personal space. A hand landed on Virgil’s arm, his other…hovered a moment before resting on his opposite shoulder. Blue eyes pinned Virgil where he stood. “I couldn’t prevent it. It was my responsibility to look after you, and I couldn’t. The least I can do is look after you now.”

Virgil’s heart hurt. “You look after us plenty, Scott. I’m going to be okay, I promise.”

His brother’s head dropped a moment, looking at his feet. “I know. Just…” He looked up with a crooked bit of a smile. “Let me help you.”

Virgil stared at him some more, worry gnawing at the edges of the fog that was his brain. “Okay.”

Those hands squeezed gently, before one let go and brushed the wet hair out of his eyes.

Scott stared at him a moment longer before pulling him into a hug. His brother didn’t say anything, but he did have his own set of muscles quite capable of squeezing tight.

I’m sorry. It wasn’t said, but it was communicated, nevertheless.

Virgil let out a breath and, wrapping his arms around Scott, rested his head against his big brother’s shoulder. There was nothing he could say to make it better. That was clear enough.

Scott needed to do this.

It wasn’t his fault. Perhaps intellectually he knew that. Emotionally was entirely a different matter.

Virgil had a thought and pulled away, just a little. “You wanna sit and watch the rain with me? I could grab that Scotch Gordy thinks he is hiding.”

Blue shone in the dim light. “Sounds good.” And there was the soft smile Virgil was seeking. “Gordon is going to be…upset.”

Virgil straightened. “He owes me well into the next decade, I’m calling it in.”

“He’ll make you suffer.”

Virgil carefully hobbled over to his bathroom and grabbed another towel to finish wiping himself down. “That is nothing new.” A sigh. “I’ll buy him some more on the next supply run. Top it up with a few of his favourites. He’ll be fine.” And to be honest, if Virgil divulged to Gordon why he was stealing it, he was sure his brother would eagerly donate to the cause.

After all, they all loved their big brother.

Virgil chucked the towel aside and held out a hand. “Help me back down to the balcony?”

Those blue eyes stared at his for a moment before taking his hand and gripping tight.

“Sure.”

-o-o-o-

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

If you want, I hope you do elaborate on your thoughts on the Mclennon narrative. Personally, your posts on JP are always a joy to read

Okay, so some of the thoughts I was having yesterday: I sometimes feel like the way John and Paul's dynamic is being assessed, people are operating with… kind of a caricature of what men and (seemingly platonic) male relationships look like. I understand that both John and Paul expressed feeling "inhibited" by masculinity, but I think there's a lack of nuance with how those feelings are juxtaposed with their apparent comfort being near each other. A lot of the times pointed out as them being very close are posed pictures, for instance, when people generally stand closer together than they would normally. I also think the "no touchy" rules of toxic masculinity doesn't really apply to anything that's mostly a joke/a prank. It's sort of an extension of how young boys play-fight. That being said, many people around the Beatles noted how close they were to each other – but I still don't think that's unique exactly, it's a relatively common feature of groups that spend an inordinate amount of time together, working towards a joint goal (see: army buddies but also sports teams).

I also think we overblow how big of a deal it was to joke around about "being queer" (which doesn't mean there was no bigotry; people joke about taboo subjects all the time).

So like, one of my hottest takes is that sometimes when John and Paul appear to be flirting – that's a joke (sometimes specifically a parody of the teenaged mania surrounding them). To be clear: this observation doesn't preclude them perhaps saying some truths in jest to each other, but the way Ringo and George broached these topics wasn't all that dissimilar to them.

And I say all these things because I think it actually is relevant to understanding their relationship. If either of them felt attraction to the other, the fact that this flirting was part of their normal communication changes their motivation for engaging in it (ie. it wouldn't necessarily be a true overture). I actually do personally think John probably meant it some of the times he engaged in that type of behaviour, but I find thinking of it this way completely explains why Paul may not have fully understood what was going on, instead of painting him as a completely socially unaware idiot who refuses to hear the words John is saying.

The other thing is sometimes I feel like a certain quote presented to me as "McLennon evidence" is actually just proving that John and Paul were close and cared about each other… which I and most people outside some staunch Jean Jackets wouldn't argue with?

I feel like there's a lot of arguments by association, eg. this quote shows that Paul thinks about John a lot – and only someone who had a romantic past with John would think about him a lot! I just don't really see how these things connect directly.

[biblicallyaccurateslut]

I just read a re-post of one of my post from a non-gaylor, and I would like to say it was a really good, respectful answer that explained their point of view perfectly and, by any means, this post is an attemp to start beef or anything.

Being said that, one of the points that really standed out to me was how some fans would "force a queer identity on her" (not quoting them, just summarizing) and how twisting lyrics to hold a narrative or using certain interpretation of a song, was not healthy, in reference to the connection I made to the album midnights and Taylors queerness.

Now, I would like to ask, isnt twisting a lyric to fit a narrative how people started saying that Taylor was the "argumentative antithetical dream girl" she refers to in hits different, when is crearly (and is a question of grammar and basic language comprension) refering to the muse of the song?

Bet I could still melt your world, argumentative antithetical dream girl. Are you kidding me?? How could you posible say this makes sense if she was refering to herself???

Then, the paternity test constantly done by swifties to look for the muse of a song is nothing more than a certain interpretation of the lyric to fit the narrative. So that is not a thing exclusive to gaylors, almost every swiftie does it.

Now, that is what I like to call a double standard. I am not shaming the original autor of the post that have inspired this text, but pointing out a more societal problem. Very often, speculation and shipping and reading into things, if done in a hetero way is okay but do not dare to do it in a way that relates to queerness.

About the "forcing a queer identity on her", there is a thing, done through history called flagging. Safo was doing it in ancient Grecee, so did Oscar Wilde and more recently Elton John or James Dean. There are signals of the queer community to signal discretely to other lgbtq+ that they are one of them.

Taylor is not subtle about her flagging. She went out in a bi pride colored jacket to sing "and you can want who you want, boys and boys and girls and girls". She did sing about wearing someone like a necklace. She did spray paint her paint the bi colors to her gay pride music video. Use the lyric hair pin drop more than once. She puts lesbian flag colors as the main lighting in her world wide tour. And much much more. Is obvious, really out there for the people who want to see it to see.

Once you see that, you have no option but to hope she is queer; because if she was not, she would only be a straight girl that harmed the queer comunity by taking all the simbolisim that lgbtq+ people have built througt the ages and making it hetero to the mainstream, erasing the very little history the comunity has managed to create in the opressed world that it had have to endure.

So, even if I think that the answer to my previous post was really well written and respectful, I do not think it is a really nuance take.

PD: To the person behind the original blog that posted the answer, if you have read this and recognised yourself on it, just know this is not a personal attack and I apologize before hand if that felt like that to you.

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Movin’ Mountains

Chapter 2: Girl Who Didn’t Care

* Pairing: Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M

* Warnings: language, post trauma, sibling argument

* Word count: 4,441ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant and @lexixstewart for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y'all.

Author's note: I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well!

Everyone gathered in groups to get tents set up. John was having Tate help him set up his tent, but Stella felt like that was so he didn’t have to do as much. She smirked at that thought. He used to do the same to her and Kayce when they were kids. Stella surmised that it was also a distraction for Kayce’s boy to shift his mind into the present instead of the past. She could hear John’s voice in the back of her mind. ‘A little bit of hard work never hurt anybody.’

She sat back against a nearby tree and counted the little abodes that the wranglers were building up and realized she hadn’t brought a tent for herself. Her fingers tapped on her knee in thought. Rip walked by and she reached out to tap his leg before he could get too far from her. Rip froze in his tracks and spun to face her. He questioned her with a look.

“I didn’t bring a tent.”

He smiled smugly at her but before he could open his mouth and say anything, Kayce joined them. Stella stared up at both the men with wide eyes.

“I figured you’d stay with me,” he paused to let the offer sink in. “Unless you wanna stay with your brother and Colby?”

Stella thought about it. She could stay with her— her mind stopped short of saying the word boyfriend. She had yet to actually say it out loud or otherwise, and she wasn’t sure if that was an accurate title. Shaking the thought off, Stella let her decision process continue.

She could stay with Kayce, get a fitful night of sleep feeling safe and hearing the little puffs of his snores, or she could stay with her brother and his best friend and be woken up by the snores of two men fighting for their lives against a bear sawing logs and farting like no tomorrow.

“I think I’ll take my chances with you, no offense to them.” She smiled sheepishly. Rip and Kayce laughed. Kayce continued to grin down at her and held a hand out to her to help her up. Rip tapped Kayce’s shoulder to let him know he was gonna continue on, and Kayce nodded.

When Stella was on her feet, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Her arms wound around him and she leaned into his chest. She took a deep breath, feeling instant comfort of the smell of leather, sweat, and something that was distinctly Kayce.

Stella moved her mouth closer to his ear and whispered, “I need a fuckin’ nap.” Kayce’s chuckle vibrated deep in his chest and warmth blossomed throughout Stella.

“Well you’re in luck because our tent is ready.”

Stella sighed and leaned harder on Kayce. “Oh bless you, you sweet angel.” She placed a discreet kiss just behind his ear, one of his favorite places that she’d come to find out.

His chest rumbled at the physical affection. Her name came out as a warning, “Stella.”

“Alright, alright.” She stepped back. “You win this time.” The feeling of being watched creeped up her neck, and she didn’t have to search far. The whole camp was staring intently at the couple. When they realized her gaze turned to them, everyone jumped back into movement. ‘It would have looked less suspicious if they were vacuuming the ground,’ Stella chuckled at her thought. This was just as much of an adjustment for them as it was her and Kayce. She’d give them some grace.

Stella lifted her eyes to Kayce. “I’m gonna go hang with my brother for a bit. What shift you takin’ for the herd?”

“Late.”

“Okay well, you be safe. I’ll be in the tent when you get back.” Kayce reached his hand out to grab hers and give it a squeeze, and watched her trek off. Somewhere along the way, she’d stolen his black zip-up hoodie. He couldn’t say he hated the sight. Just like the air up here, she seemed free. The weight of being on the ranch after what had happened to her wasn’t as heavy. He noticed she wasn’t as edgy up here. It could have been that she was tired from the journey and hiding the discomfort she was in, but he’d like to think it was being away that helped. He’d check in with her later.

When Stella walked up to the boys around their fire, they looked every which way but at her. Except Ryan. He appeared to be assessing her. He popped open a camping chair for her and placed it next to him. He patted the seat to make sure it opened all the way and waved his sister to it. She plopped down gently with a groan.

Looking at everyone she decided to break the ice. “Shit, don’t everyone talk at once, now.” The men’s shoulders dropped and the tension left as they let out chuckles. “I know y’all haven’t seen much of me for a while, but I’m still me. Just movin’ slower right now.”

Jake opened the Dutch oven to stir whatever he was making for supper. “We know. It’s just hard to believe.”

Stella’s forehead wrinkled. “Whattaya mean?”

Ethan thought carefully about his words before he chimed in. “We just remember how we found you. So it’s hard to believe you’re here.”

“Ah,” Stella nodded slowly and licked her lips. “I get it. I remember it every day, boys. Well, the bits I can recall anyhow.”

“We’re glad you’re back here with us. It was hell having to deal with these idiots without you,” Colby joked to lighten the mood.

Ryan noticed Stella rutching around. “Are you hurting?”

“Just a little bit. The ride wasn’t so uncomfortable. Abigail did good.”

“You need Tylenol?”

“I’ve got some in my bag, but I don’t know where it went after I found Kayce’s and stole his hoodie.”

“I think I put it in his tent,” Jake offered.

Ryan sucked his teeth. “Now why the hell would you do that, Jake?”

“Because I guarantee she’s gonna be sleeping with lover boy over you and Colby.”

Stella smirked and blushed at the same time. “I mean,” she scratched the back of her head, “he’s not wrong.” Ryan and Colby made wounded faces at her, Colby put a hand to his chest. She smiled at them. “It’s no offense, he just sleeps quieter than y’all.”

“That hurts,” Ryan joked as he stood to go get her the pain reliever. “Can I dig around in your bag?”

“Yeah. It should be in one of the little side pockets. It’s a big bottle. Can’t miss it.” Once she gave him permission, he wandered off.

“So, uh,” Ethan started, not quite sure how to ask his question.

Stella huffed. “Go on, just ask.” Stella figured getting the awkward questions out of the way now would help everyone. “Get it over and done with, for the love of god.”

“Well,” Ethan rubbed his hands together, “when did that,” he motioned to Kayce, “become a thing?”

Stella’s lips pursed in a smirk at the men not knowing how to approach the situation. Especially with someone they liked. When it was some random Joe blow, they’d scare the hell out of him and he would run for the hills, never to be heard from again. Since they liked Kayce, it was foreign territory for them. They didn’t know how to act.

She watched Ryan coming back with her Tylenol and reached out her hand for the bottle. Opening it and taking three out, she stole Ryan’s water and took a swig to wash them down. She placed his water back on the little camping table in between the two chairs and wiped her mouth off. “Well,” she took a second to think about it, “it wasn’t an actual thing until around my birthday.”

“So there was more before it was a thing?” Colby wagged his eyebrows at her.

“A lady doesn’t divulge her secrets, Colby.” Stella made a face at him and smiled. “But maybe.”

Ryan sat back and placed his left arm along the backrest and decided to let the conversation play out.

“So are y’all serious?” Jake asked.

Stella sat back in her chair, resting her right arm on the back not noticing the similarity between her and Ryan. Colby smiled fondly at the mirrored image. “I’d like to think we are, but it’s probably more complicated than that.” She shrugged. “He’s still got stuff to take care of with Monica and co-parenting and such. I don’t wanna get in the way of that.”

The men made grunts of acknowledgement. They knew it was a tight spot to be in. Stella chewed on the inside of her bottom lip in thought.

“All I have to say is, finally.” Ethan admitted. “Watching you two dance around each other over the years has been painful.” The group let out belly laughter accepting the shift in dynamic easily.

The questions died down and everyone settled in for supper. Enjoying the lack of cell service, the peaceful air, and each other's company. Stella eventually felt her shoulders drop and the tension ease its way out of her neck and back, allowing her to fully relax into her chair. The wranglers and Tate all gathered around the fire to eat.

John observed closely the way Kayce interacted with the wranglers, but scrutinized the way his son was with Stella even closer. He remembered the conversation he’d had with Kayce not long before she got attacked. The look of fear in his son’s eyes at the idea of being in love with his long time best friend.

Kayce moved differently than John had ever seen his son move with Monica. More intentional, natural. ‘Gentle.’ The word rang though John’s mind like the tinkling of windchimes. Of course the best friends butted heads from time to time, but nowhere near the way he and Monica did. John sat back in his chair and thought back on all of the times several of the men and himself joked that those two would end up together. None of them knew just how right they had been. He called Kayce over to his fire.

Kayce was just finished taking plates from Stella and his son when he heard his dad call for him from across the way. He shared a look with his girlfriend and he paused. That was definitely something they needed to talk about. He wasn’t much for labels, but he wanted to do this right. For her. “I’ve been summoned,” the pair chuckled at the same time, “be right back.”

He threw the paper plates into the fire and went over to his dad, carefully taking in his body language. There was more than just the usual on his dad’s mind. John motioned to the log next to him for his son to take a seat. With a slight groan, Kayce let himself sink down onto the makeshift seat. The father and son duo sat quietly and stared into the fire. Eventually John noticed Kayce’s gaze had drifted to Stella, a soft smile graced his lips.

“How is she?” John asked.

Kayce tilted his head and broke away from staring at Stella to answer his dad. “I mean, on the outside she’s still a little banged up. I think she’s still haunted in here though,” he pointed to his temple. “I think it’s gonna be a while before that settles. She’s puttin’ up a good front though.”

“She almost died, son.”

“I remember. Vividly.” Kayce stared off into the darkness reliving the moment when he and Ryan found her.

John knew he was starting to fall back into the past. “Stop. Won’t do any good now. She’s alive, your son is safe and home, that’s all that matters. You’ll break through that cowboy front of hers in no time.”

Kayce sighed. “I just wish I would have been home.”

John decided to change the subject. “So what’s going on between you two now?”

Kayce stopped to think about it and stared at Stella. The healing gash across her face a reminder of what happened and the confessions that followed. Even with the new addition to her appearance, he thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Especially out here in the moon and firelight. The soft roundness of her cheeks catching the different lights reminded him of the picture Lee had taken of them that hung in her living room. He smiled softly.

When Stella first came home from the hospital, he’d been struggling to find the balance between taking care of his son, making sure his ex got a break, and helping Stella out when he could. Now that things had calmed down and gone back to more of a normal pace, minus Tate’s nightmares and Stella almost pulling her gun on everyone on the ranch, he wanted to be able to spend more time with her. Actually get to the bottom of everything between them. He hoped with her joining him on this trip, it would allow them the time and privacy to accomplish that.

Since the attack, they hadn’t really been able to talk about what their relationship was. The pair had just kept on like normal, added a little kissing here and there, but they had done what they do best. Ignore the elephant in the room.

Kayce knew there was something going on between them, it would probably never be the same after everything that had occurred. When he thought of almost losing her that night, he couldn’t breathe. It was like a weight caved in his chest.

“I know there’s something, but I don’t have an answer for you. I’m just giving it time.” He looked at the ground. “I don’t wanna rush it. I gotta do it right.”

John smiled at his youngest fondly. He was proud of the man Kayce was turning into. The cards that he’d been dealt weren’t easy, but he’d powered through them and come out the other side a good man. John couldn’t be more proud.

Kayce brought his gaze back up. “I gotta get ready for tonight.” He stood and went to his tent to get ready. There wasn’t much to get ready except making sure he had some snacks and a couple drinks with him for the night because without them, it would be a long night.

Outside at the fire he could hear Stella talking to Tate. “Okay buddy, who do you wanna sleep with tonight? Your dad or grandpa?”

“I wanna bunk with grandpa,” came his son's muffled but excited reply.

Kayce grinned when he heard Stella giggle at Tate’s enthusiasm. He continued packing the saddle bag in front of him and listened to Stella direct his son.

“Well I think you should go on over and get your cot set up. It’s almost bedtime, bud.”

Tate groaned. “Even out here?!”

Kayce could see Stella nodding in his mind’s eye. “Even cowboys got bedtimes, Tate. Work starts early in the morning.”

“Yeah Tate. We all have bedtimes." Kayce heard Ryan try to help his sister’s case.

“Ugh,” the tiny grumble from his son made him laugh. “Okay fine.” The wranglers laughed quietly as the little boy walked off to go find his grandpa.

“Just like Kayce.” Ryan compared the father and son.

“He’s gonna be a handful.” Lloyd laughed.

Stella defended Tate. “I think he has enough of his mother in him to avoid any big trouble.” She sighed and let out a little chuckle. “I hope.”

From behind him, he heard the telltale rustle of the door to the tent being pushed open. “Yes, Stella?” He turned and gave her a half smile.

She stared at him with a bashful grin. That little half smile of his would be the death of her one day. “I wanted to see you before you left for the night.”

“I won’t be far.” He strolled over to her and let his arms rest on her shoulders.

Stella placed her hands on his hips, holding onto his belt. She gazed up at him. “I know,  but I still wanted to send you off.”

Kayce leaned in close which prompted Stella to stand a little straighter. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips and both of their eyes fell shut. Stella’s hands drifted a few inches higher and softly grasped his sides.

Kayce’s tongue prodded at her lips, and Stella opened her mouth to welcome his deeper kiss. She sighed in contentment at the familiar warmth that spread through her chest. Her hands wandered higher along his sides and flattened against his back, wanting to pull him closer. He moved his arms and cradled the back of her head.

“I miss you,” Stella sighed against his mouth.

He brought his head back to get a look at her. Cheeks flushed, mouth and nose rosy colored from the heat that now resided between the two of them. “I miss you too, sugar.”

Stella rested her head against his chest, content to stay just like this for however long he would let her. “You’ll be back in the mornin’, right?”

“Yes, babe. I promise. Nothing bad is gonna happen here.” He hugged her close and rested his chin on top of her head. “I do have to get goin’ though.”

She breathed out against his neck. “How far out are they?”

“Not too far. You can still see the camp from where they went. Just a bit to the east.”

“You be careful, ya hear? I want you to come back to me.”

“A few wolves or mountain lions wouldn’t stop me from doin’ that, sugar.” He placed a kiss on the top of her head and backed up. “Make yourself at home. That cot over there is ours.” He pointed off to the left. “I’ll see you in the mornin’.”

Stella trailed behind Kayce out of the tent. She reached out and grabbed his wrist, locking their fingers together. He stopped moving to look back at her. They had a silent conversation. He nodded once and let their fingers slip apart.

A few saucy whistles floated up from behind them. The wranglers were giving them shit. Kayce smirked and walked off to grab Tank and head out.

He heard Stella in the background. “Yeah yeah, shut your mouths, you shitheads.”

Stella made herself comfortable in the chair Ryan had opened for her earlier. Ryan and Colby went to set up their cots and get things ready for bunk down. Jake was cleaning up dinner, and Ethan had made his way off to presumably make his cot up for the night too. Stella gazed over at John as he sat at the fire with his grandson.

A wolf howl sounded off from the darkness. Everyone’s heads, including the horses, snapped to attention. Stella closed her eyes and pulled her lips together, taking a deep breath. ‘It’s just a wolf. Calm down.’ She shook her head, annoyed. She really had to figure out how to get a grip on herself.

She returned to her observation of the grandfather and grandson. She could tell they were talking about something heavy. John’s head dropped after Tate must have admitted something to him. Her heart bled for the little boy. If she would have been better prepared, if she would have told him to take Abigail and ride her to the house, things would have turned out much differently. ‘Probably worse for you than him, but he wouldn’t be in this predicament.’

John stood stiffly and prodded his grandson to go get ready for bed. When the little boy ran off, John stared across the fire and locked eyes with Stella. He stepped across the way to join her. He made eyes at Jake, silently asking for a minute alone with the female member of the gang. Jake made his way out, making room for his boss. John took Jake’s seat directly across from her. Leaning forward, he propped his elbows on his knees and folded his hands together, staring directly into the fire.

Stella crossed her legs at the knee and leaned back in her chair. Her arm draping across the back in a more comfortable position for her ribs. “Penny for your thoughts, John?” From the looks of it, he was thinking very carefully about whatever it is he wanted to say.

“Thank you.”

Stella’s eyebrows lifted to her hairline. “For what?”

He looked at her astounded. How could she not know what he was thanking her for? “For putting yourself in harm’s way to help my family.”

Stella placed her hands in her lap, and faced downward. “While I appreciate it, sir, I didn’t do too great a job at that. They still got ‘im.”

“You did the best you could with what you had. You tried, and that’s more than I can ever repay you for.”

“I mean, that’s what I promised you, right?”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to take it to those extremes.”

“All a man has is his word.” Stella locked eyes with him. “You taught me that.” She could tell he was still getting used to the soon to be scar striking down her face. He didn’t look at her in horror, but in adjustment. She glanced back down at her hands in her lap. “You realize what you asked me that day, right?”

John tilted his head, not knowing where she was going with that question. “You tell me.”

“You essentially asked me to be for Kayce what Rip is to you.” She fixed her glasses as she brought her eyes back up to meet his.

He frowned because at the time of him asking her, he hadn’t realized the depth of the task he was offering her.

Stella held a hand out to him to stop the argument that she saw brewing on his mind. “You know that’s exactly what you asked, and that’s okay,” she nodded quickly, “I’ve accepted it for what it is, what the terms are, and what it means for my place here on this ranch and in this family.” She gave him a brief smirk. “I’ve been doin’ it since I was almost 15, and I’m prepared to do it until my dying breath. I’m one of the ghosts that will forever haunt this place.” Her face sobered and she licked her lips that suddenly seemed too dry. “If that would have been five and a half weeks ago, then so be it. I would have gone doing something I promised, not only to you but myself many moons ago, that I would do.” Stella delicately tapped the left side of her chest where the raised pink scar sat above her breast.

John reclined back, speechless. The devotion and loyalty the woman in front of him had for his son was staggering. It didn’t fall short on him now as to why the men loved her. She was fierce, but soft. Able to get the nitty gritty done, but give grace at the same time. “I’m glad you’re one of my cowboys, and not someone else’s.” They shared a chuckle.

“I’m glad my brother chose here, and not somewhere else.”

“How’re you holdin’ up? We all know you’re putin’ up a front.”

Stella pulled her lips together and her eyebrows creeped up her forehead. She’d been had, and she should have known that John would be the one to call her out. “Well, I guess I can say I’m fine.” John frowned at her. “For all intents and purposes, I’m fine. I don’t like being alone, and people sneaking up on me has given me an itchy trigger finger.”

“I’ve noticed you’re carrying your gun. I think Tate and I are the only ones you haven’t pulled it on yet.”

“I got caught without it when it would have been the break that I needed. I won’t let that shit happen again.” She started swinging her foot up and down.

“You’ve lived the worst. Have you learned from it?”

“Damn straight.”

“That’s what matters. You gotta trust yourself that you’ve got what you need, and you can handle whatever is thrown at you.”

“Well, that’s what I'm hopin’ this does.” She waved her hand around at the camp. “Your son was smart to invite me along.”

“He probably knows you better than you know yourself.”

“If he can help explain me to me, I’m all ears.” Stella waved her hands outward.

John laughed hearing Kayce’s words to him in that field the day Stella and his son picked him up echoed back to him.

“What?”

“You two are certainly made for each other.” Stella blushed at her boss’s words. “He said the same exact thing to me, word for word, not long ago.”

“I guess we’ve hung around each other too much.” She yawned.

“That would be my cue to head on.” John stood and patted her knee. “You get some rest, and tomorrow is a new day. We’ll get you back to cowboyin’ in no time.” John wandered back to his tent to check on Tate and make his way to getting some much needed shuteye.

Ryan came around the corner of the food tent, his face deadpan. The siblings stared at one another for a good while before Stella finally broke. “What?”

“Don’t you “what” me.” He advanced on his little sister.

Stella scrambled to her feet to back up and put distance between her and Ryan. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“I heard every word you said!”

“Okay, and your point?” She glared at her brother, aware that the skin of her gash was pulling.

“You basically just signed your death warrant!”

“Keep your voice down, damn it!” She hissed at her brother through her teeth. “There are little ears around.” She crossed her arms and sighed. “I think “death warrant” is a little dramatic.”

Ryan stomped closer to her to hiss back. “Do you? Do you remember almost dying about a month and a half ago? Or what about pulling your pistol on everyone that’s gotten close to you? How about the fact that my stubborn, fearless little sister is now afraid to be by herself?”

“Ryan, you know as well as I do that we’re not going anywhere. If we don’t take up the mantle that John is slowly handing over to us, there won’t be anywhere for us to be if we don’t fight to keep this place.” Stella scoffed. “The sooner you realize that? The sooner you acknowledge the weight that shiny new brand of yours comes with? The better.” Her glare at him deepend. “It doesn’t come for free.”

Without waiting for him to reply, she stormed off to the tent she was sharing with Kayce.

[abundantchewtoys]

HS^2 re: p534-576

Woof (pun not intended), it's a doozy, this one.

Jade as doting mother was hilariously embarassing. But it seems her reasons to have a child in the first place stem from her intense loneliness, exacerbated by her celebrity status.

Meanwhile, Rose's motivation to carry the child... There's two ways to interpret it. The least complimentary is that she's just as manipulative as Dirk, using her powers to 'okay' a disgraceful decision because she'll be forgiven in the end anyway. I hope she actually wanted to see if she could do something her powers couldn't predict the outcome of. It would mean she's aware of the Candy timeline's nature of decreasing truthfulness, relevance and necessity and is trying to do something about it. The fact that she's so dismissive about Earth C's people, as is Jade, could point in that direction.

In fact, it would seem that, for all that the Candy timeline appeared to be a 'saccharine end state' for most of the kids, they do seem to be aware that even beyond the totalitarian government, there's something else fundamentally wrong with the timeline?

Meanwhlie, Yiffany not talking is so funny when you think about it. Even while we're being her, she's just too cool to lower herself to such base characterizational devices.

Would be funny if she's treated as the teen version of hypothetical older Maggie Simpson of Beyond Canon. Implied to be witty & talkative but never shown. :p

What else? So, uh, Tavros & Yiffany are acquainted, and Yiffy probably got locked up/kept hidden in Tavros' house when she was away from boarding school. Like a perverse Rapunzel. Making Tavros not just her biological uncle but also foster brother, oh jeez. So, uh, it might also mean her enmity with Gamzee's corpse stemmed from actual, in-person interactions with the clown.

Meenah's probably calling to let Rose & Kanaya know that Jane's coming to the meteor too.

So, the Point. I'm assuming it's to do with the device behind the curtain, beneath the meteor.

Spitballing & exchanging theories with Blaperile, I'm assuming it's a way for the Candy people to travel into the Meat timeline.

I wouldn't like it to be one way, for one thing because some people might not want to leave. For another, what would The Influencers even be able to do?

It could be a Sburb copy for the new kids to boot a session with & interact with the Deltritus gang?

Would be funny to have a sort of Hivebent situation going on with 2 separate teams turning out to be entering the same session.

If it's a giant version of the Hiveswap device, maybe the Candy & Meat timeline meteors get swapped (a literal swapping of hives).

Then maybe Candy Earth C with the Meat meteor turns out to be Alternate Calliope's home timeline, and the reverse for Caliborn/Lord English?

It would seem Jade was carrying around a stuffed corpse in her sylladex! Of course Adult Dave (now Davebot) is the most likely person. It could lead to Davebot exploding if his corpse is ever prototyped! But then we'd have a new version of Davesprite...

If it were Candy Dirk, we'd get Dirksprite: aka Arquiusprite minus Equius minus autoresponder.

With how Rose's mom got touched on in the argument, what if Jade had stuffed Mom and Dad? As Blaperile pointed out to me, while John & Jade had a funeral for them pre-retcon, we don't know that they did post-retcon, do we?

No chance for a Johnsprite beyond Terezi prototyping Meat John, though! Would've been funny to have Johnsprite^2 or *2. But unless Jade took John's original body (from his quest bed) from LOWAS before it exploded, we won't have that. As she never found the bodies for John & Davesprite in her timeline.

(Yeah I'm just grasping at straws to get a POV & further fleshing out for Dad, can't help it.)

As for the newspost, turns out I missed the one from Feb 1st. Wow, Vast Error has gotten the Hussie stamp of approval and now falls under the HICU protection and can monetize on their work!

I haven't read it yet, but I know from experience how engaging fanventures can be, so good for them!

And oh geez, so much unvaulted commentary to read on Patreon. :B

[wiltking]

going to start talking more about what im reading on here because my brain is allergic to coherent post-book reviews at the moment it seems. from this month so far:

finished Luck In The Shadows by lynn flewelling - mixed feelings on this one. i enjoyed the first half but once they hit Rhiminee i was struck with the most likely reason i dropped this book the first time, which is that worldbuilding is not this author's strong point. i felt zero investment for the political field and all characters involved in that fiasco. seemingly important elements kept getting washed out by boring exposition and even more boring side characters (and the extremely underwhelming utilization of centaurs. hello! centaurs!) but i am intrigued by the scar plotpoint and enjoy it when alec and seregil are off adventuring on their own, so i'll see what else the series has to offer.

read Aleksey's Kingdom by john wiltshire - the sequel to A Royal Affair which i absolutely adored last year. was wary of reading the sequel right after the 1st book because the description seemed so different. and im glad i waited because now ended up being the perfect time for it. it is very different but i found it refreshing to come back to these characters after time away to check in on how theyre doing, to watch them iron out some leftover kinks, to know that theyre going to be okay. i also loved the unexpected horror element. i thought the build up was executed very well and it was beyond fascinating to watch these characters navigate their relationship and the difficult world around them long after getting together. it was equal parts fun and emotional and disturbing. niko and aleksey both feel so unique and alive and i loved experiencing their realistic arguments and conversations again. it gave me more than i could have wanted and im just sad that means there won't be a 3rd book.

read Chasing Cold by stephen graham king - a mailman on a eternally frozen refugee planet falls in love with a man he only knows through video corespondance and embarks on a journey to meet him. lovely concept, okay execution. my biggest letdown with this book is my difficulty grasping the depth of the main character. he had me in the first half, i love a sad hurting man with hopes too big for his body. but midway he kind of slipped through my grasp. solid story otherwise though, revitalized my love for scifi, and secured a spot as one of my top m/m scifis for sure.

started Ariah by b.r. sanders - i have never read a good gay elf book. boy i have tried. i have searched. i have given up on the possibility of there being a good gay elf book. 2 chapters into Ariah is far too early to tell if this might be what i've been looking for but i do know that im hooked. im loving the vibe, the air of mystery around the narration. the fact that the main character is himself an elf and not just some painfully beautiful love interest to marvel at. truly have no idea what to expect from this one but im here im queer my eyes are open and i do feel strong potential that i'll lose sleep staying up to read it. i am very, very cautiously optimistic.

[davekat-sucks]

One huge argument against the main davekat argument—that Dave could learn to open up and not hide behind irony around karkat—is that karkat is probably the worst character for someone to “loosen up” around considering how angry he is all the time. Karkat is an angry character in canon. He has a sharp tongue. Jade would be much better to perform the role of getting Dave to be soft and vulnerable than karkat because if someone had issues being vulnerable, why would they open up to karkat, who is known for being antagonistic? The situations where karkat is being gentle with Dave are all very OOC, but on the other hand, Jade doesn’t have those anger issues. Jade wouldn’t be antagonistic.

Terezi and Nepeta would be able to handle Karkat’s anger because they’re trolls and not insecure about their feelings and whatnot. I can just see Dave trying to open up to Karkat about his feelings and Karkat being very awkward, oblivious, and unintentionally hurtful with his words.

People claim that Jade is bitchy, but it's only if her buttons are really pushed that there's so much she has to be this silly happy girl until tolerance starts to wear thin. The same can be applied to John as well when you think about it. The Strilondes are more guarded while Harleyberts gives people the benefit of the doubt and try to find good in others before judging. Which is good for someone like Jade to help Dave to open up and show that it is okay to have this vulnerable moments. She won't think less of him if she sees it. Karkat being gentle really is OOC from the fandom side just to play up the fluff uwu soft sad bois with Davekat. I would have understand it more he does emulate gestures and actions that he has seen in romcoms in hopes that it would work out well with his partner. But would soon realize that even with his extensive knowledge in quadrants and romance from movies, wouldn't really apply in his present life. What works in the books and movies are not easily applied to the real world and it would be something Karkat would have to see and realize about his interest in romance and quadrants. Karkat's obliviousness to Terezi's feelings in Act 5 was also enough to see that subtle hints from Terezi, Karkat doesn't get it and unintentionally says something the opposite of what she expects. His talk with her in Openbound is the closest thing as he gets to really be his honest self and wanting to help the other. But it is because he has seen Terezi getting mixed up with people like Vriska or Gamzee, influencers that harm her mentality and she tries to brush it off as a natural thing because their alien race has to be used to this kind of thing. Karkat wants Terezi to break out of the viscous cycle and let Terezi be healed and take the kindness as it is. I can't imagine it with Dave, even after Dave's bullshit talk with Dirk Post Retcon. Karkat also has admit to dance around responding to Nepeta's feelings. He is aware of it, but hasn't done much to directly confront her. Was it out of fear from Equius' wrath that if he rejects her and Nepeta gets upset, Karkat is gonna get his ass kicked or worse? Does he continue playing up this grouchy dude in order to push her away, but still goes along like roleplaying with her when they talk out of kindness? He is shown to care about Nepeta on his talk with Eridan, but shows a bit of hypocrisy on his end if he can't tell Nepeta that he doesn't share those same red feelings or wish they could still be friends. At best, Karkat's blunt words work only for people that really have gone through and done shit. I can imagine his rant and talk with Eridan to be really heated. Karkat would guilty for not taking action at the time for Muderstuck and is now able to confront his old friend about it properly. He just happen to fail it when Karkat was speaking to PAST Eridan, not current Eridan. So even Karkat's decision of going to the past to tell him he's upset of his friend's future/current actions, while not being able to give details of what Eridan has done for sake of stable time loops and other bullshit. What is stopping Karkat from spilling those out to him at that moment? Friends dying? That he genuinely had though Eridan as a close friend that genocide was the last thing on his mind? Either way, Karkat might be the last person to open up to in sensitive moments.

[dammarchy211]

I think your Homestuck stuff is really neat, especially the Hauntswitch posts. I would love to know more about Jude's friends if you don't mind sharing :D

Oh yeah of course!! I’ve been waiting so long for someone to ask me about them tbh LMAO

OKAY SO idk how to really format this in a concise manner so I’m just gonna ramble about them

So right off the bat, their names are

Rome Foster (white hair, orange sign)

Rita Valentino (black hair, glasses, yellow sign)

Noah Sanvick (white hair, glasses, red sign)

Aaand Mike Morris (black hair, blue sign) !

They don’t have official god tiers right now, as I just kinda wanna write them with god tiers in mind, and see where that takes their characterization in the end but the ideas for them are Rome is a thief of probably hope, Rita is either a sylph of time, a maid of void, or a sylph of void (leaning towards time bc time player lol), Noah is a prince of space, and Mike is an heir of mind. They’re all pretty snarky with each other, especially Rome and kinda Noah but with the exception of Rita as she kinda feels a bit outcasted from the group anyway. Throughout hauntswitch I feel like they would get into a loooot of arguments, including Jude. Just conflict of ideals tho stuff y’know. They each have their own “gimmick” type thing though! Based around Jude’s interest in aliens and cryptids n such. Noah’s whole thing is local missing and homicide files in and around hauntswitch as I’m sure the town probably has some deep and wild history like that, as well as any other true crime and mystery type stuff. Which is funny because of how easily freaked out he is, especially with fictional stuff like horror movies. Mike’s is ghost hunting, but the more technical kind. Think like those real life ghost hunting shows type stuff. He’s also the group skeptic and is big on ttrpgs and is in the robotics club with Jude. Rita’s is also ghosts! But less hunting and more of the séance Ouija board kind of ghost stuff. She the muppets/Jim Henson fan ever, and is kinda miffed by all of the creepy or gross stuff the others like. She’s also a fan of storybooks and folk tales. Rome doesn’t consider himself “as much of a nerd” as the others, despite definitely being a nerd. He tries to be a cool guy but kind of just ends up bullying his friends lmao—. He loves horror movies and urban exploration, and is more than happy to go poking around some abandoned place in the name of ghost or cryptid hunting. He definitely definitely still believes in aliens n ghosts n such though.

They’re also all in the middle school band! Except Rome bc he got kicked out for getting in trouble too much. Jude plays the trombone, Mike the clarinet, Noah the trumpet, Rome was in percussion before he was kicked out, and for Rita I haven’t really decided what yet but some contenders are oboe, violin/viola if it’s one of those bands that have a string section, or saxophone. They have a d&d session going right now, it’s 2e bc that’s what would be the most recent edition for the time period iirc! Jude is the dm, Mike is the magic user, Rita is the cleric, Rome is the thief, and Noah is the fighter. All themed around their god tier ideas lol. They also have code names, though the only 3 I really like are Jude’s, Rome’s, and Rita’s

Jude’s is Jay-Bird, which was a nickname given by Rome that much to Jude’s dismay became his codename (Jude is the object of ridicule a lot sorry</3) Rome’s is Foxtrot, which is the NATO phonetic alphabet for F, since his last name is Foster, and Rita’s is RVal which is just a throwback to RoLal from homestuck proper. The what I’ll call placeholder code names for Noah and Mike are John Doe and Winchester respectively, I’ll assume u get the John Doe one but Winchester is specifically referring to the haunted Winchester house lol. They just always felt too long to me, and like the code names themselves would need nicknames, which defeats the point of code names lmaoo.

I’m starting the run out of things I wanted to say about them but please feel free to ask more questions! I’ll definitely probably have an answer to whatever u ask lol. I do wanna just throw in that Rome chronically gives people nicknames, and will usually call Jude ‘juice’ or Noah ‘sandwich’ referring to Noah’s last name lol (or Sanddick if he’s feeling exceptionally mean). They all also have very polarizing opinions of Christmas movie Emmet Otter’s Jugband Christmas and if u know the movie you can probably just guess what Rita thinks of it lmaoo.

[regalityandcoffee]

You know what, could I get 🔥+wwe? I saw you’re post on them bringing back the TV-14 ratings and I think your thoughts are valid because it’s it’s not like theyre doing all that great creatively in the PG era so who’s to say things are gonna get better, if not just even more ridiculous/cringy in my opinion. And also in the accompanying tag you said you don’t watch it wwe anymore so I was hoping, if you want, you could extend on that. Cause truthfully, I’m once again in my wrestling phase (for the third time 🥴) but at this point I’m just keeping up with whatever catches my interest instead of religiously/strictly watching wwe

OOOOO this might get long

I just...I always felt like people made too big of a deal about the PG era? I know they changed the rating to fight off lawsuits and ther's an argument about censorship but like... I never cared that much??

I grew up during Ruthless Agression and the turn to the Divas and PG eras (btw I don't trust anyone who hates the Divas era. if you blame the girls for how messy it got instead of Vince for shitty storylines and cutting their matches short then I straight up don't like you.) and growing up it was okay. There were still gross storylines (*cough* Piggy James *cough*) and many injuries but the fact so many people whine about there not being enough blood seen in WWE anymore is so weird.

Do you know how many people got seriously injured blading to make matches look crazier and pushing themselves to make matches look more hardcore? It was wild. And why do people look back so fondly on the trash from the attitude era/wwf like the bikini contest and mud fights and stuff? I'm not saying I hate WWF and the attitude era (not the biggest fan of either but probably because I don't watch a lot of 90's wrestling) but it was a dark as hell time for women and worker's safety.

But whatever, whatever I lost my train of thought LMAO but why I don't watch WWE anymore? A number of things and none of those things have to do with the rosters. It was how they treat women like Sasha, Piper, Naomi (ESPECIALLY NAOMI) and the women's division in general still, finding out more and more of what a scumbag V*nce is (if you've never seen John Oliver's WWE vid/segment it was what opened my eyes to this shit all the way back in 2020), and just losing interest in RAW and smackdown because of firings and in main storylines and stuff.

But the final nail in the coffin was NXT 2.0 and what happened to 205 Live. Once again, it is not a single member of the 2.0 roster's fault. They're all phenomenally talented. But the weird transition from black and gold to it, and Regal disappearing from the show past the premiere of episode one, never being seen again, and then unceremoniously being released this January was the last straw for me and what made me gave up on the company completely, not to mention them throwing away the cruiserweight division FOR THE SECOND TIME IN 20 YEARS.

[cheshire-castle-library]

Alice in wonderland: 'If you don't know where you want to go, then it doesn't matter which path you take.'

Agreed, we don't know how to live.

We're all unique snowflakes, but I think divorce & drugs & alcohol exists so we can try to calm down from all the anger & rage we feel when we can't get what we want, or the way we want to be treated or remembered.

Essentially if anger is as murder, Hell is basic entry level for everyone—so if GOD sent HIS SON to die on the cross in our place to avoid this Hell & lead us thru life by HIS HOLY SPIRIT; & HE says there is only 1-way forward & JESUS is the way/truth/life, that no one comes to the FATHER except thru JESUS. [John 14:6]

Why in the world would we ever avoid HIS easy yoke? Why wouldn't we ask HIM in to show us the way?

We clearly don't have life/truth/way to GOD, unless we accept JESUS, life/death begins forever after we're ejected from earth.

I wonder if you were to die in your sleep suddenly: Are you ready to be drop-kicked into eternity?

I'm.... deeply confused what I reblogged that earned me this??

I don't think using the words of a suspected/known pedo is going to add to your morality/evangelistic argument. I love Alice in Wonderland too, but it's not a good way to avoid buckshot in your argument from people who don't want to hear it

I don't entirely disagree - reading between the lines and rhetoric, I think your argument is about free choice. And I agree, all humans have free will - that's the whole thing about Lucifer being god's right hand and basically going to rule in hell because he stole free choice which the angels didn't have. (Also, neat thing: if free choice/will is what separates us from the angels, and the angels were perfect beings, it meant that free will is what makes us imperfect beings. Idk what you wanna do with that, but I just think its neat)

I don't think anger is murder. There are good reasons to be angry and ways to be angry that don't take someone's life, and don't take away someone else's free will. But this paragraph... the logic doesn't really follow easily. You may want to rethink it and reword it, because I'm not really sure what you're punching at there.

Not sure why you think I don't believe in God, I don't really talk about my faith in more than obliques and what I tag posts. But I was made this way, and I'm not one who accepts a yoke without being beaten down. That's the way God made me, and it's gotten me pretty far. I also don't think God makes mistakes when he makes things/people, so I'm the way I'm supposed to be. Accepting myself for who I am, while accepting the things I can learn to be better about is kind of the best way I can honor our creator/maker/the divine/etc.

Are you threatening me?? It really sounds like you want something bad to happen to me in the night ^^; But in all honesty, yeah. I'm okay with dying, and where I'll land in whatever afterlife there may be. I don't pretend to know what is waiting in the next life, but I'll accept it whatever it may be. I've been true to myself and I came to terms with death a long time ago. What should I be afraid of if I have faith and I'm comfortable with the way I've lived? I know I've left more good than i've left bad in the world, and that's enough for me.

Also, if this is what you are doing for Lent, you might need to consider what lent is about. I'm ready to say no to little evils, I've done it before, and I do believe that participating in Lent has in many ways trained me for that. I think you should spend some time soul searching and decide some things for yourself.

I for one am not going to explain my faith on the internet. I'm not going to judge other peoples' faiths either. We are imperfect beings, and therefore we have no right to judge. I'm also not going to internalize or change based off of an unsolicited anon. I don't think anyone should.

I hope you find peace, and you figure out what about me being myself in my own little space in this virtual community scared/hurt/confused you so much to send this. And if this is honestly what you feel is right, then thank you for spending the time to do it. It's a hard world to make a stand in right now. But please rest easy knowing that I don't need saving, I have faith in things greater than. I recognize that I am small in the grand machine, and I'm grateful for this reminding me of that - it's so easy sometimes to get caught up in the things that scare us and forget that there's larger mechanization that have been going long before we were born, and will continue to go long after we die.

Have peace, Anon.

[gumnut-logic]

Dad (or Five times Alan’s brothers carried him to bed and one time they didn’t) (Part 5, Bit 1)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 - Bit 1, Bit 2 | Part 5 - Bit 1

This is all @flyboytracy​​​​ ‘s fault.:P ::hugs:: From this post

Okay, these bits are getting too long for me to write them in one go, so have Bit 1 of Part 5. I’m getting there, I promise. I’m trying my best not to be distracted by the Avengers AU that is nibbling on my brain.

Many thanks to @katblu42​ who did a wonderful read through, and to all of you who have been so kindly supportive of this fic and all my crazy over the last few days. I get frustrated towards the end of the week as I do longer hours on Thursdays and Fridays and it kills off my writing time (my new working hours have destroyed my writing practise, hence my slowness of late).

But anyway, I babble. I hope you enjoy this fic :D

-o-o-o-

There were repercussions, of course.

Grandma enforced extra downtime on Virgil and literally smothered both him and Alan in hugs.

Alan’s hair was messed up repeatedly.

John was called down from orbit to provide backup for piloting Thunderbird Two in case Four was needed. It wasn’t like he could just skip to and from orbit without health issues, so down was down for some time.

Grandma ran overwatch for the few rescues that were unavoidable and Virgil grumped around the house complaining that he was fine only to get a dose of vertigo and nearly fall down the nearest set of stairs to demonstrate exactly how not fine he actually was.

A grounded Virgil was a grumpy Virgil.

A Virgil banned from the hangars was hell itself.

Alan worried about him. Scott well and truly piloted the worry wagon, but Alan was definitely a passenger. In short, there were a frustrating few days for all of them.

But Virgil eventually returned to his old self as symptoms faded away. Grandma was convinced eventually to put him back on rota, with one requirement.

That leave for all of them be scheduled in the near future.

Scott automatically protested, followed by Virgil who thought it was all his fault. John whined about being down from Five - he hadn’t been allowed back yet.

Gordon was awfully quiet about the whole thing, but Alan was happy. It had been ages since he had had all his brothers home at once and no one was on sick leave, injured or otherwise incapacitated. And while he was fully aware of the implications of IR being offline, he did feel that the world owed him a brotherly vacation.

Since Grandma’s word was law on Tracy Island, that is exactly what happened three weeks later.

The delay was a chance for Virgil to get back up to speed and full recovery so he could actually enjoy the leave without fretting that Two hadn’t had her x amount of servicing since he had been injured. It also gave them time to prepare for time off - alert the GDF, tie John to something bolted to the planet so he could enjoy being on the planet for his leave, and prep Tracy Industries to be minus one eldest brother.

What they should do with their time off was also mandated by Grandma. She knew Alan’s brothers far too well. She claimed she wanted to keep them all together before the billionaires could scamper off to their far distant corners of the planet.

Or hide in the hangars doing Tracy Industries work. Yes, Scott, I know what you are planning.

Scott truly could throw a pout more than any of them, even Alan.

So this holiday found them in the Daintree rainforest in northern Australia. There was argument that they should go to Rome, England or even Belize, but Grandma determined that they needed both isolation and people, and their luxury treehouse was familiar enough for relaxation and different enough for a change of scenery.

And privacy. So much privacy, yet the opportunity to mingle with civilisation if it was wanted.

Virgil, of course, took the opportunity to visit every art gallery in Cairns and purchase a number of works to support many artists.

It was his thing.

Not really Alan’s thing, though.

Gordon took off for a few days on the remains of the Great Barrier Reef, checking on a few projects he was sponsoring. Alan tagged along on a couple of them.

So much fish.

While Alan loved his brother beyond belief, he did not have a marine biologist’s degree and despite being awed by all the sights, Alan lost his big brother in the land of excited science.

Virgil tagged along on one of the trips and did his usual thing of nodding and understanding as Gordon bounced on the spot in excitement.

But Alan…he saw the value, knew what was at stake, and loved that his brother was enjoying himself…but it was boring. He saw enough fish and crabs at home. They all looked the same to him.

And the sharks. Gordon could keep all of them to himself, thank you very much.

Alan did spend some great time gaming. With Five in the sky, there was no such thing as lack of internet or any other connection for that matter.

Though both Scott and John were grumpy about the fact they couldn’t connect with certain servers.

In fact, it was Scott and John who prompted Grandma to send them on a full day’s hike to some remote beach. Surprisingly, Scott showed some enthusiasm. John, not so much, but was persuaded by the fact they could camp on said beach and see the stars just in time for a forecast meteor shower.

Alan jumped at that. Actual time stargazing with his star brother? Sure, it was Earth based, but still!

So it was with some excitement that Alan joined their little party.

What he didn’t realise was how much of a hike Grandma had sent them on.

Virgil made sure they packed everything they needed…everything. Somewhere along the line, Alan got the distinct feeling his big brother had forgotten that they weren’t taking Two with them.

His pack was okay for the first twenty minutes of walking through rainforest, but after that, it got heavier and heavier.

How far away was this stupid beach anyway? While he appreciated the need for fitness, Alan much preferred rocket power to foot power.

“You okay there, squirt?” Kind brown eyes stared down at him. Virgil was ever monitoring all of them like some medical radar.

“I’m good.” Bravado was needed, don’t show weakness. His brothers were heroes after all. He definitely had a benchmark to live up to.

Scott glanced back at him and smiled. It was like approval. So Alan straightened and reset his tolerance a little higher.

It lasted another half an hour.

They had just made it up a hill and were walking along a ridge. Gordon exclaimed at the sight of the ocean.

And Alan groaned at exactly how far away it was. “How much further?”

Scott smiled. “Only a few kilometres. You okay, Allie?”

None of his brothers were showing any sign of wear much less tear. Even Virgil, the recently injured and healed seemed absolutely fine.

Alan sighed internally. “Yeah, I’m good. Just wondering.”

Scott stopped and waved their brothers past him until he reached Alan. A hand landed on his shoulder, a slight frown over his big brother’s blue eyes. “You sure you’re okay?” He stared at Alan’s pack. “Not too heavy?”

Now all four brothers had concerned eyes on him. Aww, man.

He shook his brother’s hand off. “I’m fine, Scott.” He was as good as any of them. He was a Tracy after all.

That thought had him storming past all of them and a fair distance ahead.

That, of course, made things worse, because now he was in the lead and all four brothers could see his every move. Trailing towards the back he had been able to at least dawdle a little.

Not now. He had to push on and be the hero he always wanted to be.

Who knew being a hero would be so exhausting.

By the time they made it to the beach his legs were only so much jello. Staring at the white sands and beautiful turquoise water…water that they couldn’t swim in because this was northern Australia and everything in there would either bite, sting or drag you to your death. Why the hell were they here again?

A slap on his backpack nearly sent him sprawling. “Watch it there, squirt, you look like you want to face plant in that sand right there. I wouldn’t. It’s a bit warm.” Gordon grinned at him, his face lit up by the sun above the trees behind them.

“Shut it, Gordon.” Alan waddled forward on the soft sand a moment, before darting past his fish brother and dumping himself beneath a palm tree.

For a moment he longed for Tracy Island’s Pohutukawa trees. This place was as tropical as their Island, but different in every other way.

The snakes and spiders for two specific terrifying things.

He had to admit to himself that only his pack was holding him upright.

This, of course, attracted Virgil like a fly to honey, those eyes of his scanning Alan just like the multiple medscanners his big brother had most definitely packed.

How much did one of those things weigh anyway?

“Allie?” Soft and gently inquisitive.

“I’m fine!”

That earned him an arched eyebrow.

Great. Now Virgil would be hovering for the rest of the night.

Alan was fine. Just sweaty and tired. The weather was just that little bit different. More land, less ocean breeze, he guessed.

And a damn long hike. He should have known it would be. Scott was renowned for forgetting not all his brothers had his length of stride.

Except maybe John.

“Allie?” A finger lifted up his chin and Virgil’s frown had turned serious.

Alan grunted at him and shook his head loose from his brother’s grip.

“You have a rest here while we put up the tent.” Virgil was stepping back, but still eyeing Alan like his brother might faint on the spot. “Get yourself a drink.”

“FAB.” He wasn’t going to argue with that. Didn’t think he had the energy to put up a tent anyway.

Virgil was still eyeing him, likely to get that drink for him if Alan didn’t move. But Alan did and Virgil slowly made his way back to Scott. Quiet words were had and pertinent looks made in his direction. Alan rolled his eyes.

And yanked the pack off his back and dragged out his water bottle.

He had to admit the cool fluid down his throat was absolute pleasure.

Stashing his pack behind him, he lay back and took advantage of the fact he had permission to sit on his butt.

It was cooler under the palm tree out of the sun. The sounds were familiar, breeze rattling through fronds above, his brothers’ voices, led by Scott as they deployed to get the tent set up, gentle waves on the shore. He closed his eyes.

The birds were different, but only marginally. He relaxed into the soft sand, putting his drink bottle down beside him.

So much like home.

He was asleep before he could even consider it.

-o-o-o-

“Alan.” His voice was whispered, but sharply. Scott?

“Alan!”

“Don’t startle him!”

Virgil?

Alan rolled over, uncomfortable with his neck at a weird angle.

Something rumbled and poked sharply at his side.

He swiped at it and it bit him, hooking a finger painfully.

That woke him up ever so quickly. His eyes shot open to something big with scaly legs and a blue head. He didn’t bother to give it identification as it bit at him again. He scrambled away while his brothers yelled and shouted from a distance.

The giant bird, because it was an awfully big bird, startled as Scott skidded in between Alan and the very non-extinct dinosaur. Because what kind of bird has a big chunk of bone sticking out of its forehead.

Scott grabbed Alan’s backpack and held it up between himself and the giant bird. “Alan back up slowly.” His big brother stepped backwards on the sand and forced Alan to scramble to his feet and do as he said.

The bird took a step forward, eyes staring at the brothers.

Scott and Alan took a step back.

TBC

[stevensaus]

What I Learned From Being Sucker-Punched By A Brain Weasel

"You've been dating me long enough," he told her during an argument. "You shouldn't still be insecure about me." I heard about the argument secondhand, but that was almost enough to make me almost spit my drink onto my monitor. "That's not how that works," I typed back to her. "That's not how that works at all." I should have realized that was the universe doing its version of Chekov's gun. Because within twenty-four hours, I was going to be attacked by a vicious brain weasel. And I want to tell you about it. While the story includes my polyamorous relationship style, I think the principles used in the story still apply whether you're monogamous, polyamorous, or however you do your relationship(s). Heck, it applies to any kind of relationship where jealousy or envy can appear. Personal, romantic, even professional business relationships can spawn brain weasels. Brain weasels can even spawn without the other person doing anything. I've had brain weasels because I thought - with no evidence, mind you - that a partner would reject me if they knew the state of my finances. I wish I'd known all this back then. And so I share this story with you, hoping that it will help you with your brain weasels... and help me remember this when dealing with my own. Opening Cut Scene I've been polyamorous to some degree for almost a decade. I wrote "Compersion: The Skill You Absolutely Need In Your Relationship(s)" almost exactly seven years ago, and still stand behind that post, no matter what kind of relationship you have. I've been writing about brain weasels for almost as long. If there is anybody who should NOT be blindsided by uncomfortable emotions when a partner goes out on a date, you'd think it would be me. I certainly thought so. That was, until I found myself unable to concentrate while my long-distance girlfriend was on a date with someone else. The Spawn Point To be clear: Having partners go on dates with other people is something that I am used to. Hell, I specifically encouraged her to go on this date. I was thrilled at how excited she was beforehand. But the brain weasel that crawled out of my brainstem was a big one. It had "she'll like them more" tattooed across the knuckles of one paw, and "she won't have time for you" across the knuckles of another. I don't even know if weasels actually have knuckles, but you get the idea. I'm still not sure why, exactly, that brain weasel spawned then. She did nothing wrong; she actually went out of her way to make sure I was okay beforehand, and did everything I'd asked her to do. All the things I thought would be enough to deal with any brain weasel like that. It'd always worked before. But with all my experience, with my unusually compersion-focused personality, I still found it there, chittering away in my brain. The Mythos Of The Weasel There's a bunch of possible reasons why it showed up. Pretty much everybody I know was busy that night one way or another, so I couldn't hang out with (or even really talk to) folks to get support. The barometric pressure was changing, which I've noticed also messes with my mood. With her being long-distance, it's harder to reconnect, so there's more space for a weasel to lurk. And since she's further away, I don't get to see her as often, and I'm definitely envious of that. And on top of that, there's the literal decades of programming that have worn a groove in my brain. Our society has some really messed up ideas of what brain weasels - and both jealousy and envy (they're different) - signify. We are told that having those feelings means that relationship is important. We're told those feelings mean we must immediately act, and dramatically so. I ended up texting a friend: I have decades of being strongly imprinted on the mythos of John Hughes movies and romcoms that says this feeling means I need to drive across several states RIGHT NOW or carry her out of her workplace or hold a boombox or a bunch of posterboard-written messages outside her home RIGHT NOW or else I'll lose her forever, because that's how that myth goes. I caught this brain weasel whispering all of those toxic rom-com fueled misconceptions in my ear, and was caught completely unprepared. Brain Weasel Wrangling All my experience did help. First, I know a lot of the practical advice for dealing with this sort of envy and jealousy. Try to focus on something else. Treat yourself a little bit. Indulge in something nice that you don't normally do. (I got pancakes with lots of syrup.) Do self-care that you know will make you feel better. (I played some video games that usually help me refocus when my mood is crap.) And if you have friends or a support network, reach out to them (which I did), and don't bother the partner until after the date. Second, I know that "I feel anxious about this relationship, therefore it's more important" is an absolutely toxic way to think about relationships. I already knew she's important to me, and knew that she'd gone out of her way to make sure I was okay before the date, which actually demonstrated how important I am to her as well. The friend I texted knows that I deal better with emotions when I view them from an academic viewpoint, so they got me to re-explain all this in text, firmly kicking me into "academic" mode, which also helped a lot. Once I started looking at it academically, it was obvious that my feelings were not about her at all - they were my insecurities. Once I was able to recognize that, I could identify the feeling, and just observe and feel it without getting lost in the feeling. That sounds like some kind of esoteric meditation practice that requires sitting somewhere saying a mantra and lighting incense. But you've almost certainly felt something like it while watching a crappy movie. Imagine you're watching a mediocre movie that you don't really care about, with unsympathetic cardboard cut-outs of characters, and a plot that's a mad libs of TVTropes. (I'm looking at you, Jurassic World: Dominion.) Suddenly, the music grows in a giant deafening orchestral swell, and for half a second, even though you do not care about the movie at all, you catch yourself with goosebumps, or feel a tightness in your throat, or a shiver of dread, or your eyes water up. Your body reacts to the music. For half a second, your nervous system goes "OH THIS IS THE PART" and the music evokes that emotion. At least until you remember -- a second later -- that you're watching a movie whose plot is about as simple as a porno, except instead of the "plot" being an excuse for naked bodies, the "plot" is an excuse for CGI dinosaurs beating the crap out of each other. But you're still there with that feeling the music evoked...and knowing there is absolutely no reason other than the music for you to have that feeling. But it's still there, and almost more annoying because you know that you have no reason to feel it. That is what it's like. So I sat with that for a while, until she got home from the date and gave me a call. The Ensquishening It is ... unpleasant ... sitting with that feeling. Like when the other person in a conversation doesn't respond at all to something you said. Or when the little wiggly "typing" dots appear, then disappear, then appear, then go away again. That's the kind of space that brain weasels really thrive in. So I was very glad she was able to give me a call afterward. She picked up on how I was feeling pretty quickly. I'm not great at hiding my feelings, and I was only trying to hide them long enough that she had a chance to share her excitement about her evening before I shared what had been going on in my head. "So I've been having an irrational fear," I told her. "And I know that it's irrational, because it hit me out of nowhere, and I want to stress that you have done nothing wrong. I just suddenly started having this fear that it would just be easier for you to spend time with someone closer than me, and that I'd end up getting pushed to the side just because it's harder for us to see each other in person." I was not quite that coherent in real life. It came out in a jumbled rush of clauses tripping over themselves as they spilled out. But somehow, I got the point across. I heard her gasp of surprise and horror when she realized that I'd been hurting, followed by her immediately saying that she heard my concern, and it was something she absolutely was also concerned about. That, no matter how nice of a time she had that evening - or in evenings to come - that I was important, and that she wanted to make sure that my emotional needs were addressed the best we could manage long distance. I did my part by pulling that brain weasel out into the open, and she did her part, confirming that my fears were unfounded and, more importantly, that we shared the same goals and concerns. And squish went the brain weasel. Mid-Credits Stinger Scene There's three reasons why I wanted to tell this story to all of you. The first is to show that experience - let alone "length of relationship" - has nothing to do with whether or not you get brain weasels. That brain weasels tend to show up where and when you are not expecting them. And in addition, that experience is not the only predictor of how well someone will be able to handle a brain weasel, whether their own or a partner's. She did amazing responding to my brain weasel, and has been doing all this a lot shorter time than I have. The second is to try to give you an idea of what brain weasels feel like, and emotionally how to handle them. The movie soundtrack analogy is not perfect, but it is pretty darn close. Even when you realize that something is a brain weasel, you will still have a reaction, whether you want to or not. It's worth re-emphasizing: YOU WILL STILL EXPERIENCE THE BRAIN WEASEL, EVEN IF YOU KNOW IT IS JUST A BRAIN WEASEL. Simply labeling a brain weasel inside your own head is not enough. This is why the third reason is so important. The third is to show exactly what the process of brain weasel squishing should look like. It isn't always smooth. There will be emotional discomfort (or worse). But the steps and process look the same, no matter what your relationship(s) look like, or what the brain weasel claims that it's about. And the key to that process is that the brain weasel is brought out into the open, as soon as possible. It does not matter how "experienced" or "aware" you are, or how high your "emotional IQ" is. Trying to hunt your own brain weasels by yourself is a fool's errand. The times I've seen someone try - or that I've been the person trying to do it myself - the brain weasel just gets larger and larger. Eventually, the small and relatively manageable weasel becomes a looming, inescapable agent of doom. It can become large enough that it makes people think there's no point in trying to resolve the weasel, or that they know exactly how someone will react when their fears finally slip out. When brain weasels are allowed to thrive in silence, they end up making you spiral, and become their own self-fulfilling prophecy. But when you share your fears and worries with partner(s) that love you and care about you, the brain weasels go squish, just like a monster in a bad, forgettable movie. As always, please note my artistic license policy; I have not only obfuscated identities, but I have obtained consent to share the obfuscated details of the story. Featured Image by Trond Giæver Myhre from Pixabay Read the full article

[deadmansgun]

“I just want to help you, but you clearly don’t want me to.” ( Sean // sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins )

Unprompted Asks || Always Accepting

@sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins

That's what everyone was saying to him, especially Hosea, he was already trying to steer him into being a father, a father to a child that he didn't even believe was his, at least not fully, but he didn't know for sure. What he did know, was that everyone should just stay out of his family business. He was sick and tired of everyone that trying to tell him what was right and what was wrong. What did any of them know about raising a child the so-called proper way.

[{ ✘ }] - "That's what everyone is sayin'! That they wanna help, when all it is, is just, everyone tellin' me to settle down and be a father. It ain't that simple! It ain't ever been that simple!" He exclaims, anger clear in his tone, he was beyond sick of it all at this point. This life was part of him, who the hell were they to tell him who and what to be?

[{ ✘ }] - "An' what the hell would you know about this? Yer still young, you ain't gonna be able to understand a damn thing bout my situation.."