#current john is his own can of worms

[belovedblabber]

1, 3, 4, tlt?

<3 thank youuu I always have so much fun with these

1. which character do you relate to the most from your fandom?

Oh this is tricky. Funnily I think it might be Palamedes, who I adore but do not talk about enough on here. The reasons for my relating to him would take an essay for me to parse the why though sdfrtyhjk

3. what is your favorite ship?

This one is hard because for some reason with tlt sorting ships in my head gets tricky! I know not why. I do love Griddlehark, because of all of the STUFF contained therein, there's so much to unpack there, there's so much going on, devotion to the point of ruin and fragmenting et al. Ianthe/Harrow is also fun to me, as is Ianthe/Kiriona (in a 'gay sex is going to make this worse but I think we should give it a shot anyway' way asdfg)

Also a big fan of Jaugustine idk what's going on there but I want to bottle it

I did a bad job of answering this I was supposed to just give one oops

4. what is your favorite CANON ship?

This is kind of cheating because I already mentioned John/Augustine above, but I love whatever the fuck John Augustine and Mercy have going on. Does this count as an answer here? I'm going with yes.

Actually my TRUE favorite canon ship is me/Abigale Pent milf extraordinaire. Just kidding I would never ruin her marriage I'm not going to be a homewrecker AGAIN

[adelaidedrubman]

NOW THAT’S WHAT I CALL MUSIC MONDAY 

tagged by absolutely no one and requested by fewer still, but in the spirit of kicking off the summer of hook, line, and sinker i am also taking the liberty of starting wip music monday whether anyone likes it or not. afflicting @v0idbuggy @poetikat @henbased @florbelles @unholymilf @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @strangefable @derelictheretic @corvosattano @shallow-gravy @nuclearstorms @cassietrn @confidentandgood @afarcryfrommymain @vampireninjabunnies-blog @nightbloodbix @voidika @firstaidspray @megraen @roofgeese @trench-rot @strafethesesinners @blissfulalchemist @inafieldofdaisies @clicheantagonist, please feel free to drop a wip and a tune that vibes with it!

naturally i am sharing another hl&s playlist banger. pov you’re jestiny and this is what you desperately wish your ex-girlfriends’ internal monologue to be as they watch your current partner fail to bait a hook, but unfortunately probably only the last part applies:

i heard you had to drive him home after two umbrella drinks / i heard he’s got a prius ’cause he’s into being green / my buddy said he saw y’all eating that sushi stuff / baby that don’t sound like you, that don’t sound like love / sounds like it sucks he can’t even bait a hook / he can’t even skin a buck / he don’t know who jack daniels is / ain’t ever drove a truck / knows how to throw out a line / but not the kind in a field and stream book / no darling i ain’t even worried you’ll come running back / he can’t even bait a hook ... [outro] nah you’re the one that’s gonna be sorry when you’re headin’ to get tofu and he has a flat tire in his foreign car and don’t know how to change it and you’ll get your new gucci shoes wet and you’re mad and irritated, i’ve seen you irritated, i’m telling you, better him than me actually

epic blunder, this is how they actually see you and your new man. wip excerpt from hl&s c.3, tentatively titled “throw out a line” (warnings for jessie typical emotional regulation and references to stalking behavior, played for laughs but called for what it is in text):

“Ms. Woodhouse,” John held out a hand towards the brunette that was met with nothing but a scowl in return. 

He made an apologetic ‘ah’ noise and wiped the hand on his shirt, but Jessie knew it was not the fish guts Sherri was repulsed by.  “My apologies.” He bowed. “I haven’t yet had the privilege of patronizing your little store.” Jessie smiled. Patronizing was right. And Sherri deserved it. “It’s so difficult when I have my own boat ramp right in the backyard to remember to get out there to support the small business owners in the community.”  “Support?” Skylar cut in, scowling even harder than Sherri did. “When have you ever supported any business around here? You call trying to shut everyone down and take their property from ’em support?”  Huh. That’s weird  — Skylar seemed to have history with this guy. And it was bad enough he was a lawyer at all, did she fuck up and start pretending to date a fucking foreclosure attorney or something?  John waved the accusation off. “Please, I hate discussing business matters during my recreation time.” He reached into his back pocket to take out his wallet, pulling another hundred dollar bill from it. “I would love to support Can of Worms now.”  John turned to Sherri, gauchely waving the bill in front of her. “I’m afraid my lovely date and I have fished through all of our bait. But it seems you have plenty left. He nodded towards the unopened can at Sherri’s feet. “I’d like to purchase it.”  Sherri met him with a dead-eyed stare. “Store’s closed.”  John turned, looking across the water at the Can of Worms storefront. “Your hours say open until 9.”  “Well, I’m not on the clock.”  “Oh, don’t be unreasonable. I’m paying well above market rate for something I could just waste time going over and buying from you, for much cheaper, in the store.”  “No, you couldn’t,” Skylar said. “Store’s closed.”  He pointed behind him. “I see it open.”  “Store’s always closed to you.” Jestiny gave up on pretending not to notice the conversation, setting aside her beer to slam her hands down on the side of the boat. “Well, sell it to fuckin’ me, then!”  “God, Jessie,” Sherri groaned, leaning down to hold her head in her hands. “Can’t you just fucking leave us alone? Following us, harassing us while we’re trying to fish? We broke up with you. We don’t want you around.”  “Shit’s sad,” Skylar agreed. “Just stop. Don’t make us get a fuckin’ restraining order or something.”  Jestiny kicked the side of the boat, hard. “They’re called Orders of Protection, in fucking Montana!”  “You learn that from your slimebag lawyer boyfriend?” Skylar asked. Jessie frowned. That was hitting below the belt, she thought. “And did he learn it from law school, or ’cause half the fucking County wants to take one out on his creepy ass?” Sherri brought a hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh at Skylar’s joke. “They really are perfect for each other, huh?” she giggled against Skylar’s shoulder, setting her chin atop it and looking up at her adoringly.  Jessie felt flames crawl up in her belly. Of all the infuriating insults.  “Yeah, we fucking are! I finally have someone who can keep up with me behind the rod and on an intellectual fuckin’ level!” she forced herself to flash an adoring smile of her own at the man she shouted over. “And he’s got an actual sense of humor! Just look at his outfit.”  John turned to shoot Jessie a glare.  “Yeah,” Skylar laughed, turning to nudge the flyaway hairs clinging to Sherri’s dewy brown skin away with the sun speckled tip of her nose so that she could finally whisper her teasing directly into the brunette’s ear. “Looks like you and me were the only ones that didn’t think to come dressed for the circus.” 

“I fucking heard that!” 

[theshelbyslimited]

a sudden thought (john shelby x reader)

gif credit to: @peakyblindersxx

note: a few days ago, I was struck w sudden and incredibly random inspiration and this john blurb/fic is the result of it. I am FARRR from a fanfic writer, I'm barely even a writer at this point but I couldn't let this inspiration go to waste whilst it was presenting itself.

note no.2: this is just a silly random fic so please don't take it too seriously. I cannot explain why I wrote it but I hope at least one person enjoys it.

warning: there is more than likely going to be grammatical errors and it may seem very 'wordy' in parts, I am not someone who is good at writing short sentences so please be gentle with me 🙈

I also want to thank @runnning-outof-time for letting me send this random fic to her for feedback, I appreciate you endlessly for it and I feel so honoured to have even been able to share my own 'work' with one of my favourite fanfic writers on this platform ❤️

John had just returned from a two-week long business trip with his brothers; therefore, you were cherishing having your other half back at your side at last. You currently sat side by side on the sofa, his right arm wrapped around your shoulders, his hand subconsciously caressing the slither of skin that could be felt atop your shoulder. There was no need for conversation in that moment, as you were both content to simply enjoy each other’s presence and the temporary silence that filled your home whilst the kids were still at Polly’s. A sudden thought struck you, prompting you to flicker your gaze up towards your husband’s restful face as he allowed his eyes to slide shut just for a moment.

“Would you still love me if I were a worm?” you speak aloud without any second thought or consideration. John’s eyebrows were suddenly raised so high, you became worried they may fly off his forehead and into the unknown, "what are you going on about love? What worm? Where is it?” John asked you, in a tone that voiced the confusion his face was expressing at your random questioning about a worm. “No, you idiot, there's no worm anywhere. I was asking, would you still love me if I were a worm?" you thought, perhaps, that if you put emphasis on the question that you were proposing to your husband, that his confusion would be erased, and he may actually give you an answer to it. Unfortunately, this is the John Shelby we are talking about here. Although your man most definitely possesses a certain intelligence when it comes to creating jokes or riddles that leave you hugging your aching stomach from laughter, he is most definitely not the sharpest tool in the shed (you still love him regardless). “Why would you want to be a worm for you numpty? Are you okay? Did something happen while I was away Y/N? You can tell me love, honestly” John asked, voice filled with worry. It seemed, he had gone from being confused to feeling concerned, wondering if maybe this was your way of conveying that something was weighing on your mind, and you needed his attention. You had to let out a laugh at John’s questioning of your current state, even if your heart was immensely warmed by his concern. Engulfing his left hand between your palms, you sat yourself up properly and turned to give your husband the entirety of your attention, “John, nothing’s happened yeah? Everything is completely fine. Just please answer the question, will you?" Perplexed by your need for an answer to such an absurd question, your husband brought his right hand down from behind you and laced it with your currently joint hands. With eyes filled with bemusement and adoration, John leaned forward, quickly placing a kiss upon your forehead and nose before saying, “If you insist. Yes, my dearly beloved Y/N, I would still love you if you were a worm, okay?"

Your face lit up like the night sky on the 4th of July and as your scrunched eyes met the crystalized orbs of your John, you both could not help but let out a shared laugh at the utter randomness of the conversation that just took place. “I love you John Shelby, forever and always” you say as you lean forward to kiss your husband, oh the things that man has to put up with when it comes to your random thoughts and questions. Returning the kiss, John bites down on your bottom lip before pulling back to gaze over your features and smirking to himself, “I love you too, worm." Oh, how John was never going to let you forget this conversation, even when you are both grey and old.

let me also tag some of my favourite fic writers bc y'all all inspire me to 'try' and write fic even half as brilliant as yours: @look-at-the-soul @zablife @notyour-valentine @gilmoreslorelai @retromafia @madame-wilsonn @gypsy-girl-08 @queenshelby @padfootdaredmetoo @christinasyellowflowers @cillspropertea (feel free to flip me ask if you wish to be removed).

[chemicallady]

Everybody's fool

Couple: Johnny RottenxReader

Content Warning: cursing, plus I can't really speak British english so apologies if I americanised some dialogues c.c please forgive me

Summary: It's not true that no one have nothing lovely to write about him.

••••

It's seems like years since the last time you heard about John. To be fair, it's just five days but it seems to be a lifetime. He is currently touring in US with the Pistols and actually the only knowledge you have about this are the complains he made in the quick phone calls he has granted you by divine grace.

Complains about Malcom being a prick and that's not a big news, by the way. You hate the guy since you met him. Viv is too much worthy for a worm like he is.

Complains about the american audience that is getting more and more violent towards them. Knowing that those people hate the band and their iconic message to new generations scares the shit out of you, by the way. John was so amused while he was telling us about a priest that had yelled to him that he wants to crucify Rotten. Not. Funny. At. All.

Complains about Sid being too annoying. Again, not a surprise at all. Sid is the most damaged person you have ever seen. Able to be the sweetest boy in the room but ready to cut his hand if nobody is paying attention to him. Or start a riot that could cost everything to the band.

Complains about Nancy, even if she is not with then. You can say nothing about this topic in particular, you hate that junkie, she is ruining Sid or that's what it seems. You love Sid too much to see how toxic he is as a boyfriend.

Complains on Steve and Paul.

On the bustour.

On the hotels.

On everything.

He talks about everything but you.

He has never asked about you. Do you have find a new job, (y/n)? Are you doing, (y/n)? Do you miss me?

Nothing. Nada. Niet.

To clear the waters, your relationship with John Lyndon is everything but intelligible. You love the shit out that lame ass and he cares about you enough to give you his attention, his body, his time.

But... you have never felt like you are enough for him and that's interesting because everyone's love you as much as they don't really like him. You are a supporter since the very beginning. You met all of them working at Viv shop and you already knew Sid from years. And of course John too.

You have spent the last three years of your life waiting for John to come 'home'. No matter how many times he pretendented that you didn't shag. He is always showing you that it's worthy to wait. He is not into PDA but he gently caresses you hand or your back through the texture of the leather jacket when he is unseen.

And you too have always shown that you you have always raised him above everyone else.

Jesus, you got yourself fired because you got an argument with Malcom about Rotten. Your friends started to keep the distance when John became McLauren target.

As Glenn before.

However, you have to face it. People to John are like clothes. He changes them depending by his bloody mood.

Probably due to his behavior, John knows he is the heart and soul of the band. His lyrics are the sparks of the revolution, not Steve and his incapacity of playing a guitar and take is own decisions.

So you don't think about him when a knock at the door brings you back from your thoughts. You leave the cup of tea on the table near to the window, on a daily glimpse on Baxton.

Opening the door you feel nothing but astonishment.

《 John?》

《You are acting like a ghost just manifested on your door. 》

《 I feel exactly like I'm looking at a ghost 》

He is soaked in rain, but his big eyes are even more wetty. Not like he cried, but like he is awake since days.

You move so he can enter in your small attic flat, deciding to not ask. When he will be ready, he will speak. He never shuts up, he won't this time, you know.

《 You mind prepare some tea?》

《Just one second, wild boy. You are washing my floor like a mop.》

Using a towel, you stroke his foxy hair till they are almost drier.

《 You have left some closets on my wardrobe. Change yourself before catching a cold.》

You move to the kitchen, leaving John the time to make himself at home. You can tell how much he is in distress; his body is tense and he keeps rubbing his hands.

By the time you have settled the table with cups and a metal box full of biscuits, he reaches you. You try to not look at him while he sits, grabbing a cinnamon biscuit.

《Lemon or mint tea?》

《I left the band. I'm no longer a Pistol, so what doesn't it matter if my fucking tea is mint or bloody lemon? 》

It has always amazed you the way John is able to leave you speechless. And it has always destroyed you the way he has simply left you behind. But now...

Now it's different.

You feel a void in the middle of the chest and for several seconds, the only sound you hear is the teapot whistle.

In front of you, John looks so small, bent over himself, stooped. He avoids your glaze, starring at the window without really watching through the glass.

Bringing the hot water on the table, you realise that is not the first time he seems so helpless. This is John Lyndon. Rotten is just a angry boy on a big stage, but John.... John is powerless since the very beginning of your 'relationship'.

You spill a cup of hot water for him, hand him a couple of teabags so he can choose by himself.

《 Is Malcom's fault, right?》

《 Steve's. I ask him to choose and he did it unwisely. I wasn't aspecting much from that moron. He is not able to choose his socks, how can he choose what's the best for the band?》

That's insane.

《Where is Sid?》

《He decided to stay.》

《.... No fucking way.》

《Steve convinced him. He's the new singer of the band.》 He ended with a sarcasting voice. John pours some milk in his lemon tea, adding a sugar lump.

《 I can't believe he didn't leave with you.》

《He was in hospital in New York when I left.》 Even if he tries to be fearless you can see how upset he gets thinking about Sid. Upset and sad. 《He is not able to take care of himself and he ODed before the end of the tour. Pathetic. 》

《You don't think this. He is your mate since I can recall. He is a good lad and-》

《We're not going to see him again alive, (y/n).》

That's too much for you. It was so perfect, seeing them on the stage toghter, fearless and strong, singing an anthem against the contemporary distopic society.

But now it's just a dream and you were wake up roughly.

《I'm sorry, John.》

《 About Sid? He never mentioned you while we were together》

《 I'm sorry for the band》.

John rises his eyes in yours, surprised.

《Why?》

《Because without you they're done. Doesn't matter if Steve founded the band. You wrote every song. The singer is the face and soul of a band. Pistols are not an exception. Steve is clueless, Paul is not carismatic and Sid ... I love him and I don't care if he never mentioned me in months. He is like a brother to me, but he can't play and for sure he can't sing or write.》

A small smile appears on John's lips, full of self steam. 《You think they can't replace me, though 》

And you can't help but smile back. 《No, they can't.》

The tea is getting cold, so the two of you spend a couple of minutes to drink it. He changed his clothes with the ones he had left in your wardrobe. A whiye baggy old t-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans made by Viv.

He is cute, whit is hair still wet and that insicure but warm smile.

《Do you figure out why I came here?》

When he asks, the first thing you have in your mind is "because you have nothing left", but you don't have the heart to tell him.

《You missed me?》 You decide to ask back, with a witty tune. You don't want to hear a negative answer, but you aspect one.

《Because I was left with nothing》 he whispers, stopping you from breathing. 《But you. And I love you, so it is okay. I can make another band, without that prick manager, I can find another mate. But.... you are the only person that it can't be replaced. Not to me. 》

Before thinking, you stand. Your lips reach John's ones in a spontaneous and passionate kiss. Now that tears you hold are stream on your checks.

《I love you too》, you say. 《And you are impossible to replace as well. We'll figure out together.》

[sergeifyodorov]

favorite hockey father adopted son relationship

three cities you think deserve a team in the future

create your own hockey awards what would the first award be and who would you give it to?

12. favorite hockey father adopted son relationship

this is a difficult one because it is such a common and also . good dynamic. old man pavs and my comrade wyatt a good candidate but i think i have to go with ultimate dilf john tavares and his children mitchy and matt knies. about to make a controversial statement but i think notorious worm corey perry and notorious firecracker connor bedard are about to have THE sickest and twistedest evil parent/evil child dynamic

19. three cities you think deserve a team in the future

i wont say qc because frankly it's been said far too much but. here we go

atlanta . 3rd time will work i promise. not to praise the nhl but their two new expansion teams have actually done a REALLY good fucking job, not necessarily out of building a competent roster (i mean, vegas absolutely has done that and seattle looks alright so far) but by marketing the game and team to its city. i want whatever lone competent nhl management committee has done that to go back to atlanta. cmawn. please. please. please

houston . i understand the stars' current shtick is that they are the one team for the whole of texas but i firmly believe there's one thing better than being united through hockeyloving and that's SPORTS RIVALRY!!!!!!!. back to trashing the nhl: now that both the lightning and cats are allegedly good or at least competent they should market the hell out of the battle of florida. and you know what? they do not do that. houston v dallas though? texans are the albertans of america so you know they would be immediately down to watch a rivalry in the Sport Where You Are Allowed To Fistfight.

toronto (bear with me). what does the league have? an abundance of canadian fans all of whom seem to hate the leafs but most of whom live near toronto anyway. easy solution: give them a second team in the area thats not american (ew sabres) not out in Fucking Kanata (sorry sens) and that you can also conveniently market a battle of the centre of the universe . or something. it's always about the leafs !!

23. create your own hockey awards. what would be the first award and who would you give it to?

the bill barilko award for most iconically cursed player. current finalists are of course quinnifer himself and mcdavo. think i have to give it to connor atm tho considering. The Events.

[eric-the-bmo]

Neighborhood Watch S3ep6: So I Moved In With An Axe Murderer

WE'RE BACK BABY! HOO BOY DID A LOT HAPPEN. OH MY GOD.

[Last we left off, the Main Cast (and Lestat) had explored the basement of the casino to find they were using people from town for... something. Also, they met a devil. They're currently in a safehouse with Kenneth, Gerald, and Grayson, but John and Markus received a text from Shelby asking for help.] @gr3y-plays-ttrpgs @kentuckycaverats

[Summary: Song learns more about her mother as we decide to do something about the casino, while the rest of the Cast heads outside of the safehouse to help Shelby. We learn she has some secrets.]

------

Emergency lights flicker on in the safehouse- Kenneth, meanwhile, is both panicking and totally stoked that this is happening. Louis grabs him by the shoulders and tells him to chill out, and due to Uncontrollable Clairvoyance, Kenneth gets some visions and decides to walk away. Gerald grabs some wine for if the Main Cast wants it, and Grayson tells us some lore about Song's mother.

He explains her met Melody via an arranged marriage between two rival families, and while she had her hobbies in the occult, they got along- but she began to take long trips and invite people over, only for them to never appear again. Grayson states she went too far trying to bring Song into whatever she was doing and decided to put his foot down. While he doesn't know her goals, he knows they're much too ambitious for a mortal- he's seen some of her notes (there's something about a prophecy). Grayson had gathered artifacts and knowledge of rituals to keep Melody away from him and Song & so that she wouldn't be able to get the aforementioned items for her own gain- though with outside help (like the devil we met earlier), she'd be able to break through Grayson's wards tofinally interact with her daughter.

Grayson says he never would've accepted this security job if he knew she was here, and while he has no knowledge about the strange hypnosis the townspeople were under, Kenneth returns with a charcuterie board to tell us he might have some info- during the day at the casino he was taken to the security room and told to drink some of the water he was given; he later came to his senses when he wasn't supposed to, and the guards had tossed him into a basement cell. The Cast agrees to save the townspeople and hey, maybe we can burn the casino down who knows! But it'll be hard to sneak it again/get more info now that Melody most likely knows Song is back with Grayson, whose security team might be compromised. Markus reveals to Grayson that they have bug abilities; He tells them he's seen worse.

["You're touched by Nature, I've met a few of you before. Have you seen the guy that can control worms?"] (Cue Markus mentioning William the rat guy, and a conversation of "can he summon them or is he essentially a bunch of rats in a trench coat?")

Markus tells us they can't entirely see through their bugs, more like sense things through them, and so far there's no radius to how far out they can send their bugs- they can be good for scouting out the casino again, when we can get out of the safehouse. Gerald confirms we can last up to three days in here, btw. (Kenneth's been staring at Markus since this is the first time he's seen their bug features (the holes in their skin, the compound eyes), and Markus threatens him to keep it a secret.)

Back to the topic, Song makes a group chat for this Casino Heist 2.0, while Gerald and Grayson go "hey we can't do this now, even sending out some scout bugs can compromise this haven's protection."

["Oh, speaking of protection-"] Song asks John how Shelby's doing. He wants to leave the safehouse to go help her, but apparently aside from the metal outside, there's also magical wards that take a While to be set up again if deactivated. Song offers to set them back up again.

John makes direct eye contact with Grayson and lets him know Shelby's important to him, and so we're given an hour before Song finishes the wards. John doesn't want Shelby to see him kill Harold, so Markus offers to get her away, and to also send some of their bugs with John just in case. John also doesn't want Markus to see it either and they're like "if that makes you feel better, sure, but I've seen what you are and it doesn't scare me," and it's really sweet and they hug. ["...okay," Markus says after a while. "we should stop before this gets any longer, it's getting a bit gay now." (Cue a silly yet in-character conversation with the Main Cast joking about how them hugging isnt the gayest thing here- Louis and Lestat are literally dating- and John casually being like "yeah I don't entirely identify as a man tbh")]

Song tells the two cryptids to call her if they need any help (Harold might be supernatural, who knows), and they exit the safehouse. Louis offers to help Song with the ward rituals despite being Just A Guy, and Lestat invites Song's father to their Monday brunch event. One of them mentions Emmett, which is currently an AI, and Song and Louis are like "ohh yeah uh. he's kinda busy he can't make it" (we need to go check on him, it's been a Month since we've heard from this guy). ---

With Markus's bugs we determine Shelby and Harold are in the Doe-Water house, and John is all sharp edges as we open the door. Shelby and Harold are on the living room couch- Harold, who's suspiciously calm about all this, has his arm around her, and while she looks visibly uncomfortable, she declines when Markus is all "hey do you wanna come over to my house, i got a new type of bug." Markus senses there's something keeping her here- blackmail or a threat, perhaps?

Harold introduces himself as Shelby's new boyfriend(!?!?!), and John is being so brave for not immediately slaughtering the man right then and there; The energy is palpable as John goes "Yes... I believe we've met before," and shakes his hand a bit Too Hard. Harold says he vaguely remembers meeting him a month ago, and also mentions his katanas; he's got them with him on a belt loop thing.

Harold tells Shelby to leave for a bit so "the men can talk" or whatever, and she hurries off to her room and locks the door. Markus leaves the house and goes around the to look through Shelby's window to see what she's doing- She's going through her closet for something, and if she hears Markus tapping on her window she's ignoring it- But then Markus's sister catches them doing this through the window of their house and is like "dude i know you might have a crush on her but what the FUCK are you doing?!" Markus tries to dissuade her like "no ok listen it's okay bc she's in danger, there's supernatural stuff at play, go back to bed I'm taking care of this," but this doesn't help at all and they continue to bicker. ---

John invites Harold outside so the man can demonstrate some sword tricks; and Luck is on his side as Harold agrees, even offering to teach John some tricks and be his pupil. The entire time he's demonstrating his sword tricks (and he's not the best at it), John is digging his claws into his skin. Once that's done, John offers to show Harold some of his own tricks. He agrees. John makes eye contact with Harold and grins, more akin to an animal baring its teeth, and lunges. He starts to drag Harold to the woods behind their house by the ankle with his teeth and hands- meanwhile, Song watches from the safehouse window almost approvingly. Louis sees this and decides to follow John, just in case.

Harold sees Louis approach and begs for help, but our Crooked hunter just taunts him. John's too busy to notice Louis's there, and in fact he starts to shift into almost a bird creature; his claws are more talon-like, with some feathers growing from his skin.

Harold tries to plead for his life- if he dies, they won't know what Shelby's been hiding! John pauses upon hearing her name, and Harold tries to use the fact he has dirt on her as leverage for his life- Louis threatens him by cutting off one of his fingers with his pocketknife & making him tell us what he knows. Harold says he thought Shelby had looked familiar when they first met, so he managed to dig up some newspapers she had been trying to cover up.

["She tried so hard to run away from where she came from. Her name's not even Shelby!"]

Louis is satisfied with this and walks away, leaving the two men alone in the woods. John decides it's not his business to know Shelby's past, so the next time Harold tries to speak he rips out his throat, and our Monstrous Hunter eats him down to the bones. It's the first proper meal he's had in ages, and he's never felt better.

John staggers upright, eyes reflecting whatever light is in the woods, and starts to stalk back towards the suburb. ---

Meanwhile, Louis enters the Doe-Water household to check in on Shelby, who's still locked in her bedroom. ["Hey... Not-Shelby... We know. It's not a big deal. We've all done worse."]

....Silence.

Louis continues; he doesn't mean to put her on the spot, at the very least she can trust John and, hopefully, him as well. (Still nothing). He means her no harm, but warns her that while he quite literally has blood on his hands, just in case she decides to come out.

The lock clicks. Slowly, the door creeps open- but Louis barely has any time to react as Shelby swings at him with an axe!

Notes/Commentary:

Hey can we talk about how all of this is happening at like 2am

Obsessed with John's eye contact and how it ties into that whole "wolves making eye contact to establish dominance" thing. My hands were Actually shaking the whole time I was so excited for him to finally kill that man.

It's so funny how John and Louis's most Iconic s1 interaction was "i dont understand how you're so disregarding of human life what's wrong with you" and now they've tortured a man together in the woods ⭐

My god we forgot about the ants. They've got the command of "help John with anything he attacks" and uh. hey?? This might be an issue at the moment-

Melody's notes including dark magic stuff, including blood, living sacrifices, and torture

One of my theories is that she's going to try and sacrifice Song. Have we thought of this.

I'm choosing to believe that the axe Shelby had hidden in her closet was the same axe John used to fight the plant monster in s3

On that topic: SHELBY WITH AN AXE???!?! I'm so thrilled that's canon, I drew Axe Shelby about a year ago! Maybe I should redraw it,,,,

(hey girl why did you have an AXE IN YOUR CLOSET???)

Obsessed with John and Shelby's dynamic like yeah they both met each other on the worst night of their lives and decided to leave their pasts behind and will kill in order to keep it a secret, and Yes both of them are gonna find out anyway

John levelled up! His claws now ignore some armor ⭐

My personal theory is that Shelby had an awful ex, killed them, and fled the state before ending up in Greenville. I guess I'll see what happens then in two weeks!

[scotianostra]

On 15th September 1773 the emigrant ship “Hector” arrives in Pictou Harbour on Nova Scotia carrying 189 Highlanders, most loaded two months earlier in Ullapool.

Although they were not the first Scots to arrive in North America they were the vanguard of a massive wave of Scottish immigrants to arrive in what is now Canada. In the century following the landing of the Hector more than 120 ships brought nearly 20 000 people from Scotland to the port of Pictou. By 1879 more than ninety-three percent of the region’s rural property owners had Scottish names.

Ironically, very few of the Hector people stayed on the Pictou Plantation. They had been cruelly deceived by the shipping company that brought them out to Nova Scotia. The land was not ready for settlement as promised and supplies for the coming winter were meagre. Most of them moved on to settled parts of the province leaving an intrepid handful of their countrymen to fend for themselves in an uncultivated wilderness.

The Hector was owned by two men, Pagan and Witherspoon, who bought three shares of land in Pictou, and they engaged a Mr John Ross as their agent, to accompany the vessel to Scotland, to bring out as many colonists as they could induce, by misrepresentation and falsehoods, to leave their homes.

As they were leaving, a piper came on board who had not paid his passage; the captain ordered him ashore, but the strains of the national instrument affected those on board so much that they pleaded to have him allowed to accompany them, and offered to share their own rations with him in exchange for his music during the passage. Their request was granted, scrolling through various passenger lists I have found out the Piper was more than likely a man called William McKay.

All those travelling that were aged over 8 were required to pay full fare for the passage, those between 2 and 8 were charged half fare under 2’s were free. It was bad enough that they were conned with the promise of land in Canada but conditions on board the Hector were said to be horrendous, the ship was barely sea worthy and has been described as a crumbling wreck. I can’t find any mention of how may survived the 11 week journey or how the passengers were related to one another it was a nine week journey over the Atlantic, Smallpox and dysentery took their toll on the infants and children on board. In all, eighteen died at sea, I think by that they mean 18 children, poor things. By the time the rotting hulk landed, people were picking at the planks to find worms to eat. On arrival about all that they seen was the dense forest grew down to the water’s edge as far as the eye could see.

The unfamiliar customs and appearance of the natives inhabiting the area so terrified the settlers that they remained on board for two days despite their desire to walk again on dry land. Finally, on September 17, 1773, dressed in full Scottish regalia, with all pageantry of their kilts and the pipes, they went ashore The “Hector” pioneers faced extreme difficulties during their first year in the New World, but with the development of a lively timber trade with Scotland and the finalising of land grants, conditions improved and the development of what is now Pictou County was under way. The land was rich, the rivers and oceans plentifully stocked with fish, and the timber of high quality.  

Pics are of a stamp issued in 1973 to mark 200 years since the crossing and the Hector replica at Pictou.   The Hector Heritage Quay is one of Nova Scotia's major cultural tourist attractions.  The  Hector is  a full-sized replica of the original ship. A  Highland Homecoming, a celebration of the strong Scottish spirit, takes place on-site every September. and kicking off today.  The ship is currently going through a $2.5 million restoration project just now, you can find all the details on their FB page here https://www.facebook.com/shiphector/

[jekyllnahyena]

Question is commander lockup gay, pan, ace or Demi? He just looks to beautiful to be straight. Also what kind of partner would he have? If he even wanted one. Just asking.

FFKJGHJDKHGJDF ASSIGNED TOO PRETTY TO BE STRAIGHT I CAN'T-

ok, first gonna go into Lockup specifically, then gonna go into some Jekyll-worldbuildy stuff cause this has been on my mind for some time. Strap in Nonnie >:D

aight, to give the short answer, he's bi (which means attracted to all to me, idk, I grew up with it that way and the people I know that are bi are very much down to date anyone that is non-genderconforming. anyway) and currently very much not in the search of a partner, not as long as the war is going on. (and after the war? as in the canon timeline? fuck no. Lockup doesn't talk anymore now and he's shorn his hair off.) If you were to ask him, he'd say something like 'someone he feels safe with, he trusts, he can cry near without inhabitation'. It's such a broad answer, it's almost a non-answer again, though you have to know that the chance of him feeling safe enoug to cry near a person is zero to none. He'd also want someone adjacent to the war somehow or someone that is aware of what is going on. He doesn't want to have completely re-explain his trauma and terror to some civi, it's hard enough as it is to talk with people without his Everything standing in the way.

Traits he'd 'like' would be something like 'stability, kindness, self assured, humor'. Very basic, I know, but he honestly is currently just figuring things out (and has fucked around a bit because of it. He has yet to meet someone that has been able to come even close to making him wanna stay. Lockup has Issues) I'm sorry this is very hard to think about, he's a deeply unromantic person, both as in he doesn't really care for romance rn and generally unromantic. He can be, but that is more in the vain of trying out what it means to be 'romantic' to see if he'd like it. He's very ambivalent towards it. Ehhhhhhh he likes smiles? Enjoys palm kisses and the sorta snort people can do when they laugh?

....

Oh my god he wants a John Mactavish equivalent-

(I have no clue if this answered anything, but yeah. Here ya go :'))

now, for Jekyll-verse ideas, I'm gonna keep it under the cut

Look, in the broadest of all broadest senses, sexuality is a looooooot more loose in sw, at least to me. Every since I learned of that one wolf dude that is married to the future seeing death worm, I decided, screw it, I won't apply rules of attraction of our world to sw, we're going with the very basic "you like them? good" without caring for pretty much anything else. I make more of a distinction of 'has sexuell attraction or not'. Of course, there are a lot of cultures within the verse where this won't fly. Just as there's a completely different understanding of gender and sexuality in different cultures here, it's very much the case for sw. But that is going into specifics again.

I mean, Jackal (if they'd survived eyyyyyyyyy >:D) ends up with Kaia, a human with some togruta blood in his veins. Jackal is half fish, half zabrak, which is it's own whole thing again and they have teeth the size of fingers and ngl, not for everyone. Kaia on the other said 'jep! I like that one!'

So, that is all to say, I think of everyone as bisexuell unless explicitly stated otherwise. Hilarious lil fun-fact, quite a few of my characters (and headconans) are ace. Jackal, Hyde, Cody (he'll always be ace in everything thx) as examples. Margo and Eisen are aro/ace actually and it's absolutely hilarious because Eisen specifically knows he's hot and uses it as a negotiation tactic, but he's a deeply sex-averse person. Don't fuckin touch him, he will destroy you both verbally and physically.

So yeah, here's some Jekyll-verse stuff thoughts. Yay?

[starboywille]

🎶✨when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positivity is cool)🎶✨

Oh god sandi you sent me this DAYS ago and I’m just now getting to this I’m so sorry

Here are 5 songs I listen to and love (and the reasons I love them)

1) Skeletons - Brothers Osborn. First heard this in the sandman show and it just gave me the most obnoxious ear worms. I love country music, I love country music to a fault and this is exactly what my dumbass little southerner brain feeds off of. Also watch the sandman el oh el

2) Todo De Ti (All That She Wants) - Omar Rudberg. Again, fuckin ear worms dude. Omar put his whole pussy into that song and I choose to ignore the discourse about the music video in order to pop my pussy severely

3) Tiny Dancer - Florence + The Machines. This is a cover of Elton John’s song and they played this at my job and ever since then I just feel it right in my bones. Florence’s voice is beyond this world and she really should be praised. Weird barefooted lady

4) Wildfire - Cautious Clay. This was introduced to me by the bestie @purplehoodiesimon way back when all of us were discussing songs that are deeply wilmon. And I just resonated hard with the lyrics and the sound. She’s so beautiful and I’d be nowhere without her.

5) Desert Song - My Chemical Romance. Okay, I’ve been leaving little paragraphs here for each song but, with this one I have a lot to say so bare with me.

Up until recently there was only one performance of Desert Song ever done. It’s on the Life On The Murder Scene soundtrack (the documentary mcr did during the three cheers for sweet revenge circuit and post Gerard’s sobriety) and it is the most heart wrenchingly beautiful song I’ve ever heard. There’s only recording because the way Gerard felt that he could perform it was if they were so fucked up on alcohol and drugs that the song itself was ripped from their very center.

According to the band, when asked about this song, they said there was only one session for it and that Gerard had been on such a bad bender the night before that he showed up to the studio still black out drunk. And it reflects in the song itself. It’s about succumbing to your addictions, dying and giving up entirely and it is sung at a time when Gerard was at their lowest low. It is a painful song to listen to.

Now you might be asking why this song of such utter dispare is on this list and why I love it so much. My Chemical Romance is currently on tour, having gotten back together after essentially killing off the band (each member moving onto their own projects). Each night the set is different and so when they performed desert song, no one had any idea. And they did. For the first time since it was recorded they performed this song about succumbing and dying and everything horrible in life and turned it into a victory song.

Ray Toro - lead guitarist and a god - changed the key to the song to a major when the original is in minor thus completely changing the entire meaning to the song itself. Yes it’s still about succumbing to addiction but now it’s changed light, it’s about not beating addiction but surviving addiction which the entire band, but specifically Gerard, did. It’s stunning and I shit you not when I heard it I cried.

You see these men who have been through hell and back performing a song that they never could because it would just break them again, bring them back to their darkest moments, and making it into a song of hope and survival and that you can make it. That they’re alive and happy to be doing what they’re doing again. That they’re okay. And it reminds you that you too can survive. That the road isn’t easy and can be quite painful, but they did it and you can too.

This song reminds me that it’s okay to be hurting and to struggle, but also that there’s something to live for. That life won’t always be so dark and desolate and that you can make it. My Chemical Romance made it and so can you.

[lothiriel84]

100 Generations

We ate our young and never blinked an eye We carved the subway tunnels and prayed to snipers in the sky We practiced medicine without knowing how to heal We killed ourselves in dreams a thousand times, always believing it was real

A The Bunker ficlet. Background David/Dave/Tom. Content warning for canon-typical violence and suicidal thoughts.

Office politics has never been David’s strong suit, and this is even more true now than it used to be before the Big Headache. If he makes himself inconspicuous enough, he will get overlooked by the bigger fishes struggling for dominance in the muddy waters of their pitifully small pond, and be left to his own devices – which is all he can reasonably look forward to, in this nightmarish reality that is the world after the total collapse of civilisation.  

Being a bottom feeder has plenty of advantages and very few drawbacks, as far as he is concerned; he’s got the experience for it, and most of the time, his fellow employees-turned-roommates can barely remember his existence. Whatever is going on at the top of the food chain is no concern of his, and he makes every effort to keep it that way; and sure, it is quite irritating when Charlie makes yet another attempt at strangling Alex just as he’s in the middle of making himself a cup of coffee, not to mention when he’s kept awake all night by whichever of the other guys Andy has managed to bribe into exchanging sexual favours with, but all in all, it’s not worth the trouble of disrupting the pecking order which has somehow established itself over the past few decades.  

None of his co-workers has ever bothered to start a fight with him, let alone trouble him for sex or other commodities; which leaves him with plenty of time on his hands to dwell upon all that was lost when the Old World went up in flames, and loathe himself for surviving those he once loved. He may have lost his will to live, but it’s still against company policy to terminate oneself without explicit permission from management, and the fact that Happiness Inc. too fell victim to the apocalypse is entirely irrelevant to his current predicament.  

(Some nights, he dreams of his wife, and that big dumb fool of a dog she used to dote upon – we need to focus on our respective careers a little longer before we can think of starting a family, darling – only, her once-familiar features soon dissolve into horrifying nothingness, and he wakes up screaming, longing for the sweet agony of a bullet through his head. Then he gets up, recites the Happiness Inc. pledge of allegiance before the faded poster he keeps over his bunk, and searches his pockets for a much-needed cigarette.) 

Jerry died three days ago, and they buried him just outside the bunker, in the coal-black sand covering up the last remnants of what used to be London, and is now a literal Wasteland. (‘Oh keep the Dog far hence, that’s friend to men, his brain supplies, entirely unhelpfully. ‘Or with his nails he’ll dig it up again!) Dave gave him a eulogy of sorts, and Tom insisted on placing a stone next to the welcome mat ‘to keep alive his memory’ – whatever that means.  

The truth is, Jerry is much better off now than any single one of them, and while he does not envy him his horrifying death, it’s the peaceful aftermath which David finds exceedingly tempting. As ever when this specific brand of thoughts worms its way into his brain, he trades the safety of his supply closet for the inane chatter of Colonel Coffee, and the sharp rush of caffeine buzzing through his veins.  

Only, this time it’s neither Charlie trying to murder Alex, nor the other way round; it’s Dave making a valiant effort at shielding Tom from the bullying of the middle feeders, aka Chris, Mark, and John. It is fair to say, things are looking pretty bad; if it were any of the others, David would not even dream of getting involved, but for some reason he does not bother to examine more closely, the idea of allowing Dave to be beaten into to a pulp does not sit right with him. (He might have considered it, had Tom been the only one involved. It must be the man’s lucky day, he supposes, even as his fingers close around a length of pipe which has been sitting around gathering dust waiting for someone to get around to fixing the leak in the kitchen sink.) 

Mark lets out a piercing scream as the iron pipe connects quite forcefully with his elbow, and Dave is quick to grab his chance and wriggle out of his grasp.  

“What the fuck –” Chris curses under his breath, only to trail off as David takes a determined step towards him, pipe poised to strike once more. “Put that down, man, before someone gets hurt.” 

“You will not lay another finger on those two. Is that clear enough?” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees John lounge for his makeshift weapon; in one swift move he seizes the outstretched hand, and twists it round until the idiot howls in pain. “Do I make myself understood?” he says again, and that’s when Chris finally lets go of Tom. 

“He’s gone off the deep end, that’s what he’s done,” Mark mutters as if to himself, and David can see the fear in their eyes quite clearly as they all three back as far away from him as the floor plan allows them.  

“Your rooms. Now,” David spells out with every semblance of an authority he did not know he possessed, and he’s more than a little surprised when his command is obeyed without further question. 

“Wow, what’s got into you, mate?” Dave breathes out at length, looking at David as if he’s seeing him for the very first time. Which he probably is, to be fair.  

“You’re welcome,” David says curtly, helping Tom back to his feet. “Now, let’s get you two patched up before those clowns decide to show their faces around the place again.” 

It takes the better part of an hour to medicate every single bruise and cut – Tom is in a much worse state than Dave is, and they all agree he might benefit from a healthy dose of painkillers and a good lie down for the next couple of days. Dave refuses the painkillers, but gratefully accepts the bottle of vodka from David’s personal stash; he spends the whole of the next day throwing up in the auxiliary toilet next door to the lab, and blabbering a stream of utter nonsense about how David is responsible for them now that he has saved their lives.  

(When Tom and Dave show up at his door a week later, he does his best to get the message across that they do not owe him anything, and especially not sex. Still, in the end it’s much less of a hassle to let them have it their own way, and when he comes inside Dave’s mouth after something of a three decade-long dry spell, it feels almost like being kissed on the mouth by Death itself – the sweet promise of things to come, and he promptly falls asleep cushioned between the two – dead to the world, just like he always wanted, if only for a little while.) 

[aaaghhhhhh]

hello!!

i'm aghhhhhh. i write fics sometimes.

this is a sideblog where i dump whatever on whatever earth i happen to be currently working on. or not working on. i shout into the void. is fun.

i have a bunch of WIPs in a disparate group of fandoms. some more active and fleshed out than others. would love to talk about them. please ask me about them.

read my fics:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/aghhhhhh/works

current major wips:

an undrowned depth of sea: the lawcav fic sequel. post-1081. currently stalling on it until i graduate college and have the time to write a serious longfic with real plot (and time to figure out the post-wano timeline) but i am constantly thinking about it. there will be Bepo in all his glory. bodyswaps. heists. fights of all kinds. cav lore. terrible dates. less terrible dates. schemes. competent heart pirates. white knight complexes. will be as canon-compliant as i can manage but we'll see.

frankenpiano fic: used to be about pianos. SGA john/rodney. about ferris wheels and realizing you're in love and have been for a while. possibly involves space convertibles. may or may not work the pianos back in. deeply unoriginal concept that ive been working on for 2 years very very slowly. but. its fine. backburner tab open on my computer at all times

rotating minor wips:

cav-centric oneshots: conversations with various characters. i have six more of them i would like to write. picking away at them slowly. the last one is lawcav but law pov for once. (posted the acecav one)

castle swimmer oneshots: live canon reactions. have a mono/galoo one right now i am also picking away at.

live x-files reactions: i am watching x-files for the first time. sometimes the worms grab me. currently have a post-Triangle fic rotating i just have to work up the nerve to write it. (smut. threesomes. way out of my usual comfort zone.)

SATELLITE: there are 2 more fics in this clapollo continuity that i want to write. i have pieces of them in a doc. one about rings. one about revenge. both about grief. will pick away at them too.

backburner concepts:

(i may not ever write 'em but i want to talk about em)

hologenome theorem: i need to change the name but its an OC-centric pre-canon one piece fic about one of the unnamed Heart Pirates and how she joins. really, its a fic about being deaf and having hearing aids, with a side helping of plants, parental expectations, revenge, friendship, and the inanity of being 17 and befriending the coolest and also most traumatized 17 year old you've ever met. niche as hell. on writing hiatus because i am reworking the plot. sad. also because lawcav takes longfic priority so hologenome has to wait.

former small fandom big bang fic: this is a Susca-centric pre-canon Castle Swimmer fic. it's going to be. uh. contemplative about morality and survival and reproduction. no longer for a bang bc i write too slow for deadlines and got trapped in deadline stress and didnt write shit. but. i still like the concept so. will write at my own pace.

the swallow gang road trip au: haunts me but requires actual research for real-world roadtrip. sad. about the fallout of doflamingo and punk hazard/dressrosa/return to zou but like. a modern au. will either be ace/law or law/cav or Maybe law/luffy but the main focus is the swallow gang relationship so idk. maybe none of them but i want an outside pov so. we’ll see. have a few snippets in a doc somewhere.

charlotte linlin: she's my terrible one piece blorbo. i have Thoughts about her and people leaving her. and power. and just. clenches fist. complex woman. yess. (fic is about being left. n her first wife. and about body swap horror possibly. and Lola because i love Lola.)

kuma asks law to cure bonney instead of vegapunk: just hear me out. canon goes way off the rails.

features of a fragile landscape: the platonic klapollo 5+1 character study canon compliant thing. 3/6 scenes drafted but on it is hiatus until i replay the apollo justice "trilogy". also because the drafts are so ass and will be rewritten.

zuckereeth: my skyrim guy. oneshots. have 2 drafts half-finished and a rough lists of ideas. will prob get back to next time i start a skyrim game and the rot kicks in. there's a longfic plot in there but dunno if i'll do that.

double trouble: SGA john/rodney but multiverse troubles strike again. it is two separate john/rodney arcs/fics in one. if i ever finish frankenpiano i will start picking away at this one.

the castle swimmer ATLA AU: kappa is the (air) avatar. siren is a firebender among waterbenders. witches earthbend. pim/pagoon firebend. siren is still cursed. diverges from atla canon w/sozin not being terrible.

persona 5 stuff: i don't know how to write p5 characters. but. three concepts: 1) Haru n Akechi roleswap 2) Akechi goes to Kosei AU 3) Ryuji and Akechi get trapped together in Shido's collapsed palace and then a few fluff-ish oneshot ideas (also a strikers rewrite i'll never do but do like thinking about)

a few other ace attorney concepts: aa4 dlc case (apollo, klav, clay all hang out. aa5 setup), larry tells phoenix about aai and things go wrong, aa6 canon divergence + klapollo fake dating, aa7. PEARLTHENA/fic where athena has hearing aids. simollo post aa5 divergence. snippets of some of these exist in docs.

other one piece ideas: ace/law/cav vaguely cowboy western au. acelaw canon divergence. lawcav 2nd chance modern band-ish au thing. continuation of my heart pirate week fic where clione convinces law to abuse his title to get them a meal at the one piece version of a MICHELIN 3 star restaurant.

[buggie-hagen]

Sermon for Third Sunday after Epiphany (1/21/24)

Primary Text | Mark 1:14-20

-------------------------------------------------

Dear People of God,

My dad’s a big fisher, my brother too. A love for fishing is a trait that I did not inherit. Though I did go fishing with my dad and brother growing up. I don’t know if they have it out here, but back where I grew up, in Wisconsin, it’s a big deal to go ice fishing. If you have it, you pick up your ice shack, and you put it up on the frozen lake or river that you want to fish out of. You may then set up your heater (if you got one). Then you drill a hole into the ice and fish away. Now, these fish, they’re just going about their ordinary lives. They come to you hungry. They are not expecting the lure to shake up life as they know it. In my life, the fish I’ve met are stubborn. They like to stay in the water. It’s comfortable. It’s what they know. They don’t like to be yanked out of it! And who can’t relate to these poor fish? We are, each of us, remarkably similar to these fish.  We enjoy the currents we already know. We are perfectly comfortable under the water. We like swimming through life knowing what to expect and where we are going. And we too, do not expect the call of the word to hook us, to pull us up out of the ice, and change us completely. To his first followers, Simon and Andrew, Jesus said, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people” (Mk. 1:17). So the God we have in Jesus Christ is a fisher and we are his fish.

We like our life as it is—self-determining our own priorities, our own view of things, and how the world should operate. Thing is, we are underwater. We can’t break through the surface of the ice. Swimming on our own we don’t know how things actually are above the surface. You and I were minding our own business when God put his lure out for the catch. The difference between God and an ordinary fisherman is that God knows who he will catch and when he will make the catch. He never fails to catch whom he chooses. The fish have no idea they are about to be yanked out of the water. We have no idea when God is about to yank us out of the water. But yank God does! Apart from our own conceptions, God breaks the ice and nets us out. Jesus’ first sermon is brief and simple, “The kingdom of God is at hand. Be changed! And believe in the gospel!” (Mk. 1:15). And with that little, seemingly insignificant worm of a lure, the word is cast, and God goes fishing for people. The lure God uses seems so insignificant. Can it really catch so many fish? By all appearances, it’s just words: “The kingdom of God is at hand. Be changed, and believe in the gospel.” But here’s the thing about words when they are words that come from God. When these particular words are spoken they become holy—meaning God has put himself into the words—and therefore God has put himself into the mouth of whoever speaks this word that belongs to him. Then it was Simon and Andrew, James and John. But now God has entrusted you and I with this same holy word. The word, which is always doing something, is not when we simply speak about God. Instead, God has us speak for him with the word. To the world. And it is this word that will not return to him empty.

And specifically, the word of Christ as the gospel of God. The kingdom of God is at hand, be changed, and believe in the gospel. To be changed means that God has hooked us in with the lure and yanked us out of the water, and collected us in his net. By doing so he changes us. He has us leave what is familiar and how we want things to go about. And he introduces us to a new world—a world he calls his kingdom. A world that is above water. If he had left the choice up to you or me we would have wanted to have kept following the current rather than follow the Lord. We fish, we sure are a stubborn lot. Once hooked, we put up a good fight. We want to stay in the water. But God is, to put it simply, more stubborn. Once God has you hooked on the line, he will not let up. God will finish what he has begun in you. The first followers of Jesus were literally fishermen. He turned them from their ordinary occupation to a new one. This time, they fish for people. And God has provided them with the means to do the fishing. The church gathers in God’s ice shack. The lure and the net is the word of God. With the first followers of Jesus, we are now not only the fish but are made the fishers. (pause) Now to not only talk about God, but to talk on God’s behalf I need to speak a particular way to you. Dear people, God’s kingdom is at hand. There is no distance between you and this kingdom. Because it is now. Right now. Right here. And here is God’s lure—the net that has caught you—by the authority of Jesus Christ, I forgive your sins, all of them. Also, God’s hook has been in you since your baptism. In it he has pulled you up out of the icy water, and there, on a daily basis, you are changed from death to life, from captivity to freedom, from hell to heaven, from despair to glee. The kingdom of God is at hand; therefore, Christ has made you one of his own. With God’s word before you, you are changed. A new life is given you. And you, from death to life, can breathe out of the water.

[feliciagarrivan]

Opinion Art and Nature

JOHN-PAUL STONARD

Art can only ever express the distance between humans and the natural world

Fan Kuan, Travellers among Mountains and Streams c.1000, ink on silk hanging scroll, 206.3 x 103.3 cm

The Collection of National Palace Museum, Taipei

Picasso was right. No matter how naturalistic a work of art, it is always more about art than nature. Works of art show our sense of being apart from the natural world, our stubborn sense of difference from other animals and the the universe in which we find ourselves.

Landscape paintings made in China around the 900s are among the first great poetic statements of this sense of apartness. Fan Kuan’s hanging- scroll painting Travellers among Mountains and Streams, the most famous of this school, shows the ‘unendurable contrast’, as the poet and translator Arthur Waley put it, between the human and natural worlds. Vast cliffs swamp the human world, tiny figures lost in the ink-drawn landscape.

It was an idea taken up in European art many centuries later – a sense that nature was beyond human control. I love James Ward’s great, glowering painting Gordale Scar 1812–14, in Tate’s collection, but it does nothing to rid you of your deep sense of fear when actually approaching the towering cliffs in the Yorkshire Dales, or to calm your racing heart when scrambling up the dangerous limestone cleft, an ascent both terrifying and impossible to resist. Only at the top, lying exhausted out on the quiet, windswept plateau, is it possible to think of Ward’s painting once again.

Art is constantly driven by the attempt to bridge the apartness of humans and the world. It always fails. In the 20th century, this pursuit became a matter of finding an equivalent not for the appearance, but for the invisible forces of nature. How might you show processes of growth, decay or gravity in art? These are just as much ‘nature’ as a tree in the field. ‘Art imitates nature in her manner of operation’, in the words of the art historian Ananda Coomaraswamy in his 1934 book The Transformation of Nature in Art. This tradition of thought was brilliantly summarised by Clement Greenberg in his essay from 1961 ‘On the Role of Nature in Modern Painting’. He describes how impressionist artists tried to resolve all conflict between art and nature by bringing painting to the verge of abstraction, but it was for the cubists to realise what this meant: ‘When Braque and Picasso stopped trying to imitate the normal appearance of a wineglass and tried instead to approximate, by analogy, the way nature opposed verticals in general to horizontals in general – at this point art caught up with a new conception and feeling of reality that was already emerging in general sensibility as well as in science’. Perhaps this was when Picasso first conceived his ‘not nature’ definition of art.

Ward’s Gordale Scar now seems prophetic of how this feeling of reality has become, in our own times, so dark and dangerous. John Ruskin was among the first to realise that man had ‘desacrilised’ nature, as he put it, viewing it as a source of raw materials to be exploited, emptying it of its mystery. It is no longer simply a feeling of apartness, but also a sense that we own and control nature. But art shows us that we do not. We have laboratories where we recreate the birth of stars. Art is a record of our changing encounter with nature, and reveals the truth that our sense of separation is mere illusion — we are a tiny part of a greater whole. Art ‘cannot stand in competition with nature’, Hegel once wrote, ‘and if it tries it looks like a worm trying to crawl after an elephant’.

John-Paul Stonard is a writer and art historian. He is currently writing a book telling the story of art, from Palaeolithic to the present day, for Bloomsbury.

[selfcallednowhere]

October 28, 2018 Providence, RI

This show took place at another nice classy theater, one I haven't been to before. It was also a seated one, which I know a lot of people don't like (a group that includes my friend Stephanie, who I was attending the show with, and Flans, judging by how often he orders everyone at such shows to stand up), but I don't mind and in some ways actually prefer--while I do my own version of boppin' around at shows, it's never anything so intensely physical that I can't manage it sitting down, and also as a short person it's nice to not have to worry about being able to see.

They opened with "Damn Good Times." This was an opener I'd seen quite a few times at this point on the tour, but I think it makes a good one--while I adore those really high-energy rockers anywhere in the set, I think they work particularly well as openers (to really jumpstart the show with a song that's the musical equivalent of a strong shot of espresso) and closers (so everyone can end what was surely a fantastic experience on an appropriately high note).

Next came "I Left My Body," "Your Racist Friend," "Particle Man," and "The Famous Polka," after which there was some talk about the "elegant but decaying" venue and the crowd, who were all "sitting down and sober," which Flans found to be "confusing AF." This was followed by some joking about what "AF" means--John said it was "and friends," which I found particularly amusing in light of the Dallas show I'd attended earlier in the year, when he legit didn't know what it meant when he saw it written on the setlist and Flans had to explain it to him.

Next they played "Birdhouse in Your Soul" and "The Guitar," during which Flans introduced the Future of Sound portion as being "future AF." Also during it John played the keyboard with his face (his forehead specifically) because he's THE SILLIEST. Other very cute things he did during other parts of the song included hopping and waving during the "the lion waves goodbye" part, both of which I've seen him do during the song before (especially the hopping, he does that often), but that doesn't make me any less excited about how cute it is every single time. After the song, there was some talk about how great it had been and that the show had now peaked only mid-way through the first set.

Then John got out the contra-alto clarinet, and after it was identified as such there was some comment about foley effects, which Flans used as a springboard to talk about their time working for Malcolm in the Middle, and how they would put a lot of work into their assigned musical cues, but from the sound of it did not have a very good experience with the sound editor. (This was interesting to me because I don't think I've really heard them say anything too negative about the Malcolm gig, other than that it was a ton of work and sometimes left them with not as much time as they'd like to spend on their own stuff.)

The appearance of the contra-alto in the main set always heralded an appearance of "All Time What" on this tour, so naturally they played that next. Afterwards, Flans plugged the I Like Fun vinyl, again pointing out the resemblance between a record sleeve and a calendar.

Afterwards they played "Let's Get This Over With," which remained absolutely stellar live, and then "Doctor Worm." Then there was some talk about how in Baltimore people were doing the "hoo hoo" + fist pump thing, like people would in the audience at the Arsenio Hall Show, and how weird it was cos that was all supposed to have been over like 20 years ago.

Then came one of the major show surprises: "Museum of Idiots," which is always an intensely emotional song for me to see live, and then another very exciting surprise, "Authenticity Trip," a song that recently seized the crown to become My Current Favorite Flansong, based in large part on witnessing several years of always completely awesome live performances of it, so that was a real treat.

Then John said they were about to "take a break and think about what we've done," and then they were trying to determine whether the next song appeared on Glean or Phone Power, but ended up settling on "Who cares?" The actual correct answer was Phone Power, as the song was "Trouble Awful Devil Evil." Then they closed the first set with the always-great "Spy."

The second set opened with the familiar Quiet Storm duo of "Tippecanoe and Tyler Too" and "James K. Polk," with the also-familiar transition between them of John describing the crazy time jump we would now be making from 1840 to the distant future of 1844, where we would be experiencing "future shock" brought on by such wild futuristic things as "electric beards, mechanical buggy whips, and bass scrolls." (I had no idea what that last one meant and had to look it up--per Wikipedia, "A scroll is the decoratively carved beginning of the neck of certain stringed instruments, mainly members of the violin family.")

Afterwards:

JF: And nothing rewards the...quasi-folk satisfaction of an acoustic set like electronic drums. But there's actually a couple things about this very special set right here at the Columbus Theatre that make it different. Usually we have--we bring in these LED lights to sort of reproduce the effect of limelight, which is a very traditional theatrical effect. But because this theatre is largely in its original form...I'm just staring down like twelve lightbulbs. And, uh, it's very exciting to have the real thing. *crowd cheers and applause* Right below them there's about, like, fourteen red and blue bulbs that I guess they bring out for the, uh--for the kids' shows.

Then he introduced the next song, "I Like Fun," as featuring "the contra-alto clarinet and of course the trumpet stylings of Mr. Curt Ramm--of Rhode Island--Rhode Island is for Curt."

So they played that and then "Applause Applause Applause," which he introduced as being from way back in September, the peaceful and calm times before the current dystopian hellscape (when of course by 2018 we were two solid years in to dystopian hellscape at this point!).

They wrapped up the Quiet Storm portion with the always-welcome "Meet James Ensor," and then the rest of the band reappeared for the not-really-welcome-but-always-expected "Istanbul."

This was followed up with "Why Does the Sun Shine?". John was once again handling the spoken bits in the middle, and once again doing the weird affected (and very funny) voice/bit I first saw him do in Vancouver a few weeks earlier. This time he explained that the sun is an "atom-smashing, atom-humiliating machine," and that the heat and light of the sun are caused by the nuclear reaction between "Blackstone Blvd., Foxpoint, Raymond Patriarca, and this finger!" (all of which I assume to be local Providence references that I'll admit I didn't fully understand, but he probably got pretty familiar with the city when he was kicking around there in his days with the Mundanes).

Next they played "Music Jail" and "Experimental Film"--one of my top Flans favorites of latter-day output and one of my top songs ever which I've barely seen at all, respectively, so I enjoyed both very much.

Then:

JL: This is the part of the show where we slow everything down, and-- SOMEONE IN CROWD: OH NO! JL: Yeh, I know. Why? So, John Flansburgh! JF: Yes, John! JL: How was your day today? JF: My day was pretty uneventful. I had a submarine sandwich. That was exciting. Authentic, y'know, New England-style submarine-- JL: What's weird is you can't really get that in New York. It's uncanny. JF: It's one of the things that sucks about New York. But y'know--New Haven's got the pizza thing beat, they've got the subs here...There's so many different reasons to be morbidly obese in New England. JL: Compelling. JF: So many motivating factors. *pause* I like it. *pause, lowers voice* I'm totally out of control. No, I pretty much--I had sort of a nothing day. I was kind of--I, y'know, drank too much last night. Playing the show in New York and--my wife is an enabler. That's my way of holding her responsible for my actions. You guys can use that. JL: So, um, here's another song...

Said song was, very excitingly, "Mammal," followed up by "She's Actual Size." This was in turn followed by "Whistling in the Dark," with some talk in between about how it's a song that features the whole band playing and there's some question of which of them will end first. Then Flans encouraged us all to "flood the aisles" for the appropriately rockin' main set closer, "The Communists Have the Music."

They returned for the first encore with the even-more-rockin' "Twisting." Then came the band intros, in which we learned that Danny is "a blessing and a treasure" and Marty "gives so much and only asks for your screams." The first encore ended with "Hey, Mr. DJ, I Thought You Said We Had a Deal," which caused me to really really rock out like it always does, especially when Curt is there.

Normally I like to do my best to avoid setlist spoilers (I don't do too much looking at posted setlists for shows shortly before ones I'm attending myself, and I never look at the on-stage setlists even if I'm close enough to see them) because it's a singularly thrilling experience to hear a favorite song I wasn't expecting. But my friend/show-attendee-buddy Stephanie and I had engaged in some speculation pre-show via a photo on Flans's Instagram, which declared the final song of the show to be something listed as just "SLEEP." I speculated that it was perhaps "Sleeping in the Flowers," a big favorite of mine from John Henry that I've never gotten to see live (a category that is way too big for an album that's tied for my favorite, but that's a whole other rant).

Well, it was not what I was hoping for, but I wasn't too disappointed because what it turned out to be was also awesome, and somehow a possibility that hadn't occurred to either of us to suggest (which meant it had that delightful element of surprise I'm always seeking): "Sleepwalkers"! It wasn't the first time I'd seen it, but the times I had were far enough back (15 years) in the dim mists of memory that it might as well have been, and (according to the wiki's setlists) this was the first they'd played it in eight years. I've always found it to be a deceptively (I say "deceptively" only because I've found few people who agree with me on this) creepy, even terrifying song, which made it feel extremely appropriate for this show a mere three days before Halloween, and in the hushed and darkened theatre it was a goosebumps-raising experience for sure, and an eerie and excellent way to end the show!

Final notes: Afterwards, I convinced Marty that Stephanie was the worthiest recipient of his signed drum head for the show (after slightly reluctantly admitting to him that I did already get one from him on the tour's spring leg), so that was cool since she hadn't gotten one from him at all before. John was wearing that black fleecey pullover thing he's fond of, not terribly exciting in itself but he did have the sleeves pushed up and seeing his arms that way, that part is always extremely exciting to me (more so than just seeing them when he's wearing a t-shirt for reasons I can't even fully explain). Of course, while I do still care, all of this has become way, way reduced in importance since "all spex all the time" became the norm!

[ttuesday]

The Feller’s reaction to their S/O having second thoughts about staying in the Gang

(this is a request I received through ao3 but thought I’d post it here too)

Arthur

Arthur's not surprised when you tell him about the doubts you have about the gang. He completely understands and he agrees with a lot of your points, noticing the recent cracks in every plan. 

Just in case of anyone else overhears your concerns, Arthur takes you out of camp while y'all discuss the current state of the gang. Although Arthur is very open to the others about how he feels with the gang, he doesn’t want people to turn on you because of your doubts.

No matter what happens, Arthur's determined to protect you. He knows how close you are with some of the other gang members so he doesn't want to force you to leave the gang or anything like that but he does make sure you have some cash on you just in case anything happens and you need to get away.

Charles

Charles has great respect for the gang but he didn't try to convince himself everything was going great. Of course Charles doesn't want the gang to separate but the idea has crossed his mind, wondering what will be the final straw.

Charles actually approaches you with his doubts first, wanting you to be aware of how he's feeling and the way direction the thinks the gang is going in.

He's relieved you feel the same way, taking your hand in his as you tell him your own concerns. Afterwards, Charles spends the next few hours coming up with your own plans, wanting to discuss what you'd both do if things don't get better.

Dutch

"How... how could you say such things to me?" Dutch takes this very personally and he does not respond well to criticism. He's in a bad headspace right now, especially with the mounting pressure from the others so the fact that you're doubting him too really gets to him.

Dutch does not let this go, making snide comments about how you don't even have faith in him. Honestly be prepared for a lot of fighting and the silent treatment.

But Dutch knows you care for him and that you wouldn’t bring this up without really being worried. He feels torn, insulted that you don’t have faith but starting to wonder if you have a point. He needs a lot of time to think about this but at least he’s kinda taking what you’ve said into account.

Micah

The only thing that's going through Micah's head right now is "act casual... ACt CasuAL... ACT CASUAL". He listens to your concerns, not necessarily agreeing or disagreeing with any of them.

Whenever you need to vent about the gang, Micah has no problem listening and occasionally saying a generic "Dutch will get us out of this" line. But honestly, listening to your doubts gives him a strange feeling.

Micah has never felt guilty before, even though he's had many reasons to in the past. But you have somehow wormed your way into his heart and to know you're stressing about the state of the gang is surprisingly giving him some mixed feelings about... his 'participation' in everything...

John

John laughs. After you mention your doubts, he simply laughs. It's very confusing but he quickly explains that he's laughing because of how relieved he is. John's been having these doubts too so to know that you can see them too has validated his feelings so goddamn much.

Every doubt you have, John agrees with and he even adds in a few of his own questionable experiences that have made him suspicious of how the gang's doing. Happy that you're not blinding following Dutch the gang, John hugs you tightly.

John loves you so goddamn much right now, finding it pretty sexy at how independently you think. He's hesitant to leave the gang or anything like that but with the two of you cautious with how everything is going, he feels at ease now.

Javier

Javier keeps his gaze fixed on the ground as you confide in him, listing off the doubts and constant red flags you've noticed within the gang. He doesn't reply for a very long time, listening to every word you say as his stomach twists anxiously.

Javier doesn't understand how you could be so pessimistic about the gang but he loves you and thinks that maybe you're just overtired or having a bad day. Either way, he promises you he'll try to fix things out and not to worry.

He gives you a wary smile, kissing you quickly on the lips. He wants to help but he doesn't know how, so Javier goes to Dutch. Is it a terrible idea that will make everything worse? Oh hell yeah but Javier genuinely wants to put your worries at ease and doesn't think he can do it alone. But prepare for things to get a hell of a lot worse.

Bill

...What? You don't blindly love the gang and all of it's flaws?! Bill is sure he's not hearing you right. Or maybe he's not understanding what you mean because he knows there's no way you're actually doubting Dutch.

Your first conversation about this doesn't go well, Bill interrupting you every few seconds to interject and rebuttal against whatever doubt you have. Albeit his logic isn't great, especially because he's getting frustrated.

It gets to the point where Bill just walks away, done with the conversation. If you try to bring it up again, he completely cuts you off and tells you to knock it off. Bill can't think about the gang like that and refuses to listen, hoping your doubts will fade in time.

Sean

Sean did not expect this. I mean sure, he can see that the gang is struggling right now but it's not something Sean really talks about or mentions. So to hear you talk about your doubts is a shock to him.

Sean understands your concerns, though he downplays them slightly as he agrees that yeah, things have been stressful recently. The gang means a lot to him and he can't admit just how bad thing’s have been right away.

What you've say plays on Sean's mind, the thoughts that you might leave or reach breaking point haunting him. Over the next few weeks, Sean brings you out on more jobs, hoping to get you away from the negativity at camp while also reminding you of how much fun life as an outlaw is.

Hosea

When you first mention your doubts about the gang, you only make a small comment alluding to it, not too sure how to bring it up but wanting to say something about it. Hosea instantly creases his brow, giving you his entire attention and questioning what exactly you meant by that.

Hosea listens intently, questioning any parts of your doubts that he doesn't understand and taking everything you say into consideration. Taking your hand in his, Hosea gives it a reassuring squeeze and promises to try and sort this out.

He brings up your doubts to Dutch, making it sound as if they're his own doubts so Dutch doesn't get annoyed at you. The gang means a lot to Hosea so he doesn't see leaving as a viable option though he is determined to help the gang get back on track, both for their sake and yours.

Trelawny

The first time you subtly mention your doubts to Trelawny, he assures you that everything will work out and that this is just a rough patch. He doesn't want you to worry so he tries his best to look on to positive side of everything that's happened.

But the more he thinks about your doubts, the more he sees how right you are. Although Josiah wants to be optimistic, he knows he'd be a fool to ignore the obvious red flags in the gang and he’d be potentially putting you at risk.

He still has hope that the gang will work through this but decides that you and him should go off for a month or two and give the gang some time. This is something he usually does so no one bats an eyelid to your departure, though Josiah won't make you go back unless you want to.

Kieran

Don't get me wrong, Kieran likes some people in the gang and he genuinely wishes them the best in life but you're what matters in his life and you'll come before any gang. A lot of the gang weren't the friendliest to him and they did tie him to a tree so he's not exactly sentimental towards them.

When you mention your doubts, Kieran's eyes go wide. Not because he necessarily disagrees with you but in case anyone else overhears you. Taking you to the outskirts of camp, Kieran sits down with you and listens to all of your concerns.

He assures you that he loves you and whatever you want to do that he's ok with it. If you want to leave now then Kieran asks that you give him a few hours to get his things together or if you'd prefer to stick around for a while then he's ok with that too. Kieran just wants you to be happy, no matter what.

[fandom-hoarder]

Just This. And a Little More

[warnings: weecest - ambiguous ages, somnophilia, non-con that veers toward dubcon, handjobs, under John’s nose; podfic available on ao3]

It’s night in the Impala. Dad’s driving. Sam’s sleeping, warm all against his side as they share a blanket—the second one still bundled in the trunk with the rest of their bloody laundry awaiting a stopover at Uncle Bobby’s. Dean’s awake, breathing in and out, deliberately measured. He breathes in the smell of the leather seats and the wool of the blanket and the weirdly-sweet tinge of Sam’s sleep sweat. Dean’s threadbare shirt is just starting to soak through with his little brother’s drool, Sammy’s jaw slack where it rests against his chest. Sam’s eyelashes barely tickle against Dean’s exposed collarbone, and his hand rests in Dean’s lap.

Dean’s heart pounds. He breathes.

His palm sweats a damp print into Sam’s shirt, fingers squeezing involuntarily against Sam’s hip. He drags his fingers up slowly, carefully, and Sam’s shirt rides up with them, exposing skin. Dean lets his fingertips just barely ghost over it, tracing the sharp angle of bone down to more tender skin until his fingers reach the waist of Sam’s sweats.

Sam’s hand spasms in his lap, and Dean forgets to control his breathing. He glances at Dad in the rearview mirror, suddenly wishing they’d sat on the other side of the car. Dad’s face is illuminated a hazy red by the taillights of the semi ahead of them. His eyes are on the road.

Dean moves his gaze to the window across the seat. He breathes.

There’s music playing low on the radio, but all Dean can hear is the rushing of blood in his ears as his left hand creeps beneath the blanket to press Sam’s hand down where it lay, lax and open against Dean’s crotch. The barest of touches reaches him through his layers of jeans and boxers, but it’s got him straining against his fly quickly enough. This time it’s Dean’s hand that spasms against Sam where the right one still sits just above Sam’s waistband, indenting Sam’s soft lower belly. Sam’s stomach muscles flutter, and Dean feels Sam’s eyelashes accompany it in tandem for a second before Sam settles.

Dean swallows, and his fingers slide easily down, skating under sweats and boxers both, just until he touches the first hint of hair growing there—still softer than it will eventually be, Dean thinks absently—and his fingers slide back up. Dean’s left hand uses Sam’s hand to mimic the motion against his cock, wishing he’d changed into sleep clothes like Sam had; wishing he had freedom to move his hips into the touch.

Dean presses harder. His breath hitches and he has the urge to check the rearview again. He closes his eyes instead.

The fingertips on his right hand stroke a little further on each downward stroke of Sam’s lower belly, teasing into Sam’s pubes, greedily seeking the warmth of what Dean knows is nestled just there that won’t allow himself to touch. The fingers of his left hand clench around Sam’s wrist as Dean rubs it against him harder. His hips give an involuntary little jerk, and Dean stills all motion to listen for a reaction from Dad. Long seconds tick by, and Dean recognizes the voice of Steven Tyler coming through the speakers. Dad lights a cigarette and cracks the window.

They keep driving. Dean breathes. The smell of Marlboro Reds and nighttime December air fills the Impala along with the flapping of wind through the gapped window. Dad turns the music up to account for it.

Dean’s cock aches beneath the press of his and Sam’s hands; so close yet so frustratingly far. With the current extra noise, Dean gets a little bold. He releases Sam’s hand, leaving it nestled warm against him, and reaches to carefully undo his fly and pull the zip down, tooth by tooth. Dean tugs at the gap and pulls Sammy’s hand inside. It’s a tight fit and Dean holds in a groan as he maneuvers Sam’s hand against himself. The angle of their hands isn’t great and there’s no room to adjust himself, but when the slit of his boxers peeks open and he feels the skin of Sam’s hand against his shaft, Dean feels half a step away from coming anyway.

It’s so tempting to tuck the waistband of his boxers under himself and wrap Sam’s hand around him properly, but he can’t. He can’t—

The fingers of his right hand brush against the base of Sam’s dick in his distraction, pressing against the half-chubbed side of it. Once he’s there, he can’t help tracing his index finger along the shaft until it seems to reach for his touch. Sweat breaks out on Dean’s forehead as he reaches a little further, circling his fingers loosely around Sam’s growing cock. It’s heavy and warm in his palm as his thumb slides up and down silky skin. Dean’s heart is pounding as he tries to breathe more quietly; unable to keep it calm. Dean’s left hand moves Sam’s hand faster against him, feeling too urgent now to be careful.

Sam’s hand tightens around him as he gives a confused moan. Dean doesn’t breathe. Can’t even think to check on Dad.

Dean feels prickles all across his skin—unbearable heat; arousal; guilt. His threadbare shirt is wet through with sweat everywhere Sam’s leaned against his side; wet with drool on his chest. Sam is breathing in quiet, raggedy, open-mouthed huffs against Dean’s neck, face turned up so his nose is just behind Dean’s ear, cheek sticky-cold-damp against Dean’s skin. Sam’s tongue peeks out and—shyly, hesitantly, barely there—swipes a taste of Dean’s sweaty skin.

Dean’s hand tightens around Sam’s cock. He keeps his eyes closed.

Sam’s tongue slides against him again, more deliberately, and his fingers worm their way into Dean’s boxers, wrapping around him. Dean is lightheaded. Sam gives his cock a tug experimentally, almost like a question—a request? permission?—and Dean answers yes in kind. Sam’s open lips press against the tingling skin of Dean’s neck, breathing into him; breathing him in. When Dean teases the slit of Sam’s dick, fingers coming away slippery with precome and sliding faster; tighter; Sam’s teeth press into his skin—just barely. Sam’s free hand hooks into the back of Dean’s shirt as he tries to widen his legs, and Dean’s right arm tightens around him, hoping the movement isn’t obvious in the dark, beneath the blanket.

Sam’s hand is clumsy but eager around Dean’s larger cock, obviously taking cues from how Dean is touching him. Dean suddenly wishes so badly they were alone so he could guide Sam better; instruct him. He thinks about how he would praise him for how good he’s being.

God, he can’t believe this is happening. Is Sammy really awake right now? Is Dean?

Suddenly Sam’s teeth are digging in, suppressing a sound into the juncture of Dean’s shoulder, and Dean’s hand is wet. Dean wants to stroke Sammy through it and past; make him whine from oversensitivity and test out his refractory time, but then his thoughts white out with his own orgasm.

When Dean comes back to himself, Sam’s hand is still in his boxers, loose around him and making no effort to retreat from the mess. Sam’s teeth have released Dean’s shoulder and his breathing is slowly evening out, body relaxed against Dean’s side. The thought from earlier flits across his mind again, along with a quick lurch of familiar guilt in his stomach. Dean’s teeth are bitten into his lower lip and he tastes blood; licks at it almost thoughtfully. His left hand is a claw around Sam’s wrist, and he has to consciously loosen his hold—it’s going to bruise, he bets, and Dean feels a dark satisfaction curl in alongside that guilty pit in his guts.