#could write a whole other post about how annoyed I always was by how Scott got treated by so many white queer fans

[shooshopath]

I wrote this five hours ago and then left to go get drunk with some friends ANYWAYS:

i am saying this as someone who was knee deep in st/erek fandom in high school/early college. I dragged most of my friend group into it. I was part of the popular “wholly believed that sterek was going to be canon” to “Jeff Davis is a homophobe and sucks” pipeline. I literally had to abandon my ao3 account because so much of it was st/erek and homestuck bookmarks that I couldn’t even find shit anymore. I remember when “Jennifer Blake is a time traveling genderbend stiles stilinski and that’s why she’s Derek’s love interest” was presented as a semi viable theory.

So know that I am saying this with knowledge of the Deep Lore and in the most understanding way possible: st/erek was not queerbaiting and the entire fandom was just white dominated and insane. Two white men arguing a lot in a show and a bunch of noncommittal comments by cast members who did not want to alienate their rabid fan base do not a queer bait make.

Anyways I’m :/// on Sarah z but that part of her superwholock video where she went into how a lot of “””Fandom Elders””” kept on talking about superwholock like it was canon to the point where everyone else started believing it despite all evidence to the contrary? That’s st/erek in a nutshell

(also like. Jeff Davis does suck but it’s specifically because he’s a white gay man who can’t write poc and/or women)

[maximoff-pan]

Just Faking It? | Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: When you and Peter enter a fake relationship, what does that do to your friendship? Can you keep yourself from breaking the one rule you set? Do not fall in love. Can he?

Character: Peter Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Word Count: 2.9k 

A/n: It’s been a hot minute since I posted, but online school has been Kicking. My, Ass. AnyWAy....I am back now! I’m really nervous to post this and I knowwww the ending is trash but it just kept getting worse so (please bear with me). Hopefully my writing will get better. Despite my shitty scribe, I hope you can enjoy this, and maybe, even possibly like it???

Comments and feedback are also very much appreciated! A girl needs inspiration to write (if ya know, ya know).... 

You’re minding your business (in your room mind you) when your door flies open, and in comes a flurry of grey. As quickly as the door is opened, it’s slammed shut. You know exactly who the culprit is, that part is particularly evident to you, but what puzzles you is the absence of a reason for his dramatic entrance. It’s like he thinks you can read his mind or something....(you can, but that’s besides the point). That’s not really what you’re supposed to be using your mutation for and Peter knows that.

“I really fucked up.” He eventually breathes. But it leaves you with more questions than answers.

You tilt your head towards him, squinting your eyes as if to challenge a response from him. So?” You ask.

“What the fuck do you mean?” Widening his eyes, he appears in a minor panic. “I come rushing in here, telling you that I fucked up, and your only response is: ‘so?’”

“Peter, if I had a dollar for every time you told me you fucked up, I’d certainly be the richest telepath in this mansion, and Charles owns this damn place.”

He cranes his neck in frustration, a sigh falling from his lips. “Well this time, I really fucking mean it.”

He’s fidgeting a lot more than usual, and when you glance at him, his eyes dart from yours. If you know anything about Peter, and you like to think you know almost everything about him, you know that based on the way he’s acting, that he didn’t just fuck something up for himself, he’s also fucked something up for you.

Disappointed, but not at all surprised, you ask, “What did you do? And how does it involve me?”

*****

Peter Maximoff has always had a way with words. No matter what he says...nor how fast he says he it, he can always manage to get you to do whatever he wants. Sure, to the average person Peter may be incessantly annoying, but to you, he is overly charming. He’s always just been so....perfect...for a lack of a better term.

And it’s not like you haven’t tried to bury those feelings. You really really have. But every time you’re near each other, your heart beats a little bit faster and your eyes just fixate on him. He draws you in with his infectiously upbeat, care free - who gives a shit it’s the end of the world, let’s just have fun - kinda vibes. It’s intoxicating as fuck....and so, extremely bad for you. But it’s what you need. You actually need him.

So unfortunately (maybe fortunately...it really depends on the day), Peter Maximoff has you whipped like the fucking whiplash he’s always warning you about...and whether he knows that or not is the real question. You hope to God he doesn’t; you’ve tried so damn hard to hide it. It....Them...Your feelings....And this is the trickiest part. You’re not sure when you came to this realization, but: You’re in love with your best friend.....

And honestly....shit...what the fuck feelings??? That is not a good revelation to be having. That’s never a good revelation to be having. And that’s for many fucking reasons, including but not limited to:

He’s your best friend

He’s your best friend

He’s your best friend

Did you mention he’s your best friend? Did you?

To top it all off, your anxiety about what is justifiably a crapshoot of a situation (being in love with your best friend is no cake walk friends...don’t try this at home) has risen ten-fucking-fold. Because you’d do anything for him.

And that’s how you’ve gotten yourself into the inescapable shit storm you have now: fake dating Peter Maximoff....

Look, in all respects, it could be worse. You’re not really sure how, but that’s just what you’re telling yourself to make this whole thing feel a little better. Damn you and being a good friend...You should’ve just said no. But how could you have possibly said it without giving yourself away?

‘Sorry Peter, I’m too busy being in love with you to be your fake girlfriend. Maybe later.’

You just couldn’t do it to him. He needed your help, and there was just no way you could say no to him. He’s your biggest weakness yet your greatest joy in life. He’s your kryptonite.

*****

Peter feels like shit. He thought dating you would be the best thing in the entire fucking universe....and it is. Except for the fact that it’s not real.

When Scott and Jean had called bullshit on Peter for telling them he in fact, does have a girlfriend, (when he really, really doesn’t), he panicked. So he told them the name of the first person he thinks of, the first person he always thinks of: you.

If Peter’s being honest with himsef, the whole conversation was stupid to begin with, and he should’ve just kept his mouth shut. But Peter lives for laughter, particularly making his friends laugh, even sometimes at the expense of a couple of his other friends.

It started off as a slow bit of teasing, and Peter was getting laughs fromJubilee and Kurt, who were both quite enjoying his little comedy fest. Peter in his carefree manner, jabbed joke after joke about Scott being whipped by Jean, mocking their incessant pda and need to be around each other, when Scott threw it back at him.

“Have you ever even had a girlfriend Maximoff?”

And that’s when Peter fucked up.

That’s when he proceeded to say: “Fuck you Summers. If you must know, I have a girlfriend.”

I have a girlfriend...present tense. Which is nothing but a lie. A blatant, blatant lie. But it just slipped out of his mouth, and while Scott and Jean both called bullshit, he couldn’t back down at that point. It was far too late, and would be far too embarrassing to try and weave himself out of the web he had created. So he told them he was dating you, which...fair. You already act like you’re dating 99% of the time, and you are in love with each other (not that either of you knows the other’s feelings on the matter), so it would seem very believable....But the big problem with this blurting of words (as Peter had called it later), laid in the fact that Peter had to do this without your consent. You had no idea nor a choice in being brought into this, and that’s why Peter feels like he’s fucked up so much.

Because as much as he wants to date you, and as much as he loves dating you (even though it’s all pretend), he can’t help but fear that you resent him for bringing you into his problems. If you do resent it, you’re doing a pretty damn good job of hiding it. Every person that has passed by you, the news of your relationship spreading fast, has told you: it was only a matter of time. And then they’d smirk at you, seemingly proud that they had predicted this all along.

And yet, it’s all fake, and all your classmates and teachers, (except Charles...because he knows the both of you too well and honestly is too fed up with your shenanigans to intervene), are wrong. They’re being fooled...but Peter can’t help but wonder if he’s the one being fooled. Because it feels so real. Too real.

*****

He holds your hand in the halls, swinging your arm back and forth teasingly, telling himself that he’s only keeping up appearances, and yet his whole aura brightens. Peter’s not acting, and the fact that you are genuinely scares him. Because you’re so believable, and it hurts so much to have you, but to know it’s all a lie.

“I guess I owe it to you Maximoff.” Scott sneaks in between you two, breaking not only your hands apart, but popping the blissful bubble you had been in. “I’ve never seen two people so right for each other.”

The smile drops from Peter’s face, but like always, you’re there to save him. “I know.” You send Scott a sly grin. “You never should have doubted us.”

Us, Peter thinks. He knows you mean it, in the sense that you’re best friends, but it only hurts him more. The frown on his face tightens, as he attempts to avoid your gaze. He can feel you pulling him into your side, wrapping your arms around him. This action snaps an automatic response, and his lips pull into a soft smile, his face relaxing.

“Never will again.” Scott smiles fondly at the two of you, seemingly genuinely happy for you.

You place a kiss on Peter’s cheek, nearly grazing the corner of his mouth, and in that moment he wants you to kiss him, for real this time. It’s an urge he’s had before, but never as innate as this.

On instinct, he turns your body so that you’re facing him, and he kisses you. It’s instantaneous and it feels so so right. Your initial shock fades away and you lean into the kiss, your arms gracefully resting on Peter’s shoulders, slowly wrapping loosely around his neck. You raise onto the tips of your toes, desperately yearning for more. It feels like a tidal wave washing over you, soaking you in a plethora of feelings.

This has to be something, you think. What you have...it must mean something. Because you can feel his energy, his thoughts and desperations pouring into your mind. His exact thoughts are blurred, but you can feel the emotions that are flooding through.

“Jeez. Message sent.” Scott mumbles with a slight joking tone in his voice. “I’ll never make that mistake again.”

By the time you let each other go, Scott is retreating down the hallway, and you stare sheepishly at each other, both of you wondering: what the fuck was that?

*****

Nearly half an hour later, you’re once again sitting on your bed, when Peter comes barging through your door. A strong sense of déjà vu washes over you, your eyes quickly darting to his. To Peter, that half an hour feels like multiple. You should have remembered that his internal clock works a lot differently than yours.

The expression on his face is pained. “I’m sorry.” He blurts out. “I know I fucked up.”

“Peter-“ you try to interject, but it’s no use.

“I don’t know what I was thinking (Y/n). I just...I didn’t mean to. It was a mistake and I didn’t mean to drag you into my shit...”

It was a mistake. Your heart drops. You could have sworn that there was something between you, that it wasn’t as one sided as you had once thought.

“Do you regret it?” You’re trying to convey a front on neutrality, but it feels like it’s faltering.

“Of course.” He replies, and your heart shatters further.

“Oh.”

Your voice sounds so dejected that Peter has to rewind the tone of your ‘oh’ in his mind. Did you think it meant something? Did it mean to you as much as it means to him?

“(Y/n).” His eyebrows raise in conflict. “I didn’t mean-“

“It’s alright Pete...I understand.” You’re warm with him. You think he’s just turned you down, and you’re being so kind to him, trying to make it easier for him. Little do you know about the war he’s fighting in his mind. Just how much he wants to tell you how he feels. “It was silly of me to even entertain that it meant anything.”

But it did! But it does! He wants so badly to say, but the words won’t come out of his mouth. Blurting words before he could think of the repercussions was what had gotten him into this situation, and now that he needs to blurt what he’s thinking, his mouth can’t seem to move.

You can see the look on his face. He feels guilty. He doesn’t want to hurt you. It was foolish of you to say yes to him, to being his fake girlfriend, when you knew this would happen.

“Peter, I’m sorry.” You’re really trying to demonstrate to him how much you hope this hasn’t ruined your relationship. “It’s okay. I’m so okay, as long as we can still be friends.”

“No!” That’s the one fucking word that Peter is able to get out of his mouth? No?

Your eyes drop to the floor, and you avoid his gaze. Just a few days earlier Peter had been talking about just how much he’d fucked up, now you guess it’s you who’s the one that fucked up.

“Oh.”

And there’s that dejected ‘oh’ again that has Peter reeling. “That’s not what I meant!” He pushes the words out.

You’re becoming more and more flustered, embarrassed, and confused by the moment. “I don’t know what you want from me Pete! Just be fucking straight with me. That’s all I ask.”

Your frustration is understandable and Peter knows it...does he ever. He’s thinking, trying to get the words to come out when an idea comes to him, and he finally is able to calmly state: “Read my mind.”

Now this is a complicated statement for a number of reasons. The first reason is quite simple. When you became friends, you and Peter had made a set of rules, promising to always be open with each other, and to never use your powers on each other. And that was Peter’s biggest rule: never read my mind. Now he’s telling you to, pleading you to, because it’s the only way he can tell you how he feels. His thoughts could never lie to you, they could never hide from you if you didn’t want them to.

And second, breaking that rule would mean breaking that promise. It goes against the very foundation of your friendship, and so for Peter to ask this of you, it must mean that he has something very important to say. You’re just not sure you’re brave enough to hear it...

“Peter,” you question, tilting your head in absolute confusion, as if to say to him, are you sure?

“Read my mind.” He affirms. A look of panic crosses your features, and when he sees the distressed you are, he nods gently. “It’s okay. I promise. You can do it.”

You nod your head, signaling to him that you’re going to do it. “Okay.” You say timidly, entering the complex of his mind.

You’re flooded with memories of the two of you together, laughing and beaming with happiness. Pushing through the visuals, you reach his thoughts, allowing your mind to hear them clearly. After years of blocking them out instinctively, it feels so foreign to open that door.

‘I love you.’ It’s Peter’s voice in your mind. It’s unmistakable, yet so surreal that you almost miss what he says...almost. ‘I’m in love with you.’

Your eyes blink open in shock, pulling yourself so suddenly out of his mind, the door to his thoughts slamming shut once again. He’s watching you patiently, waiting for your response. But Peter’s never really been one for waiting.

“I never wanted it to be fake you know.” He breaks the silence for you. “If I had known just how hard it would be to fake our relationship, I never would have thought of saying your name in the first place.”

A chuckle of relief bubbles from your throat. “You better not be fucking with me...”

“I’d never do that.” He says.

“I beg to differ.” You joke, eyes staring softly into his. “The amount of times you’ve fucked with me on shit is insurmountable.”

“Hmm.” He grins menacingly. “And yet, I’ve never fucked you.” He raises one eyebrow in a mockingly seductive manner. Only Peter would make a sex joke to lessen the tension...or to ruin what would’ve been a perfectly romantic moment....you’re not really sure which.

You nearly choke on your own laugh. “Already jumping to third base Pete? Last time I checked, you were only on first.”

“That’s cause I’m so fucking fast baby.” His wink sends you into an internal conflict. and you don’t know if it’s really funny, or really hot. His eyes are pouring into yours, as if daring you to just kiss him...

...So you do. Your arms fly up to wrap around his neck as you pull Peter’s lips onto yours. He melts into your embrace almost instantly, a giggle bubbling in your mouth as he moves his hands up from your waist.

He pulls away with a dumbstruck smile on his face, his silver hair flopping in all directions. “I want to make this real.” He places a hand softly on your cheek.

“I do too.” You reply, hopefully.

His eyes soften at the sight of you. “Be my girlfriend? For real this time?”

“For real this time.” You nod, a grin stretching across your face.

And it’s truly the most at peace you’ve ever felt in your life. Which will probably last all of five seconds before Peter comes running back to you, telling you he’s fucked something up again, but that doesn’t matter to you, as long as you have each other.

“Maybe, for once in my life,” Peter’s voice is low and calm, “I didn’t fuck something up.”

Maybe for once in his life, Peter Maximoff had gotten something right...

*****

Tags:

@idjitdestiel @what-the-stories-have-foretold @lucyqueenofthestars @justsomerandomjunk @cherikxstucky @scorpionchild81

[asterekmess]

where Scott doesn’t even exist for the story // And ain't that the saddest part? All that harassment, all that bullying, all that 'you're fandoming wrong' and what do they have to show for it? I used not mind Scott in Sterek fics, now I hardly notice him not being in one (besides the ones where he's the bad guy of course).

OH man, no, see, it's so much worse than that for me. Reading Scott in fics can ruin the entire thing for me now. If I see his name I get suspicious and it only takes one fucking bad line for me to completely bail on a fic. It used to be that I could just go 'oh, well, he's just squishy in this one' and move on, but then I started getting more and more annoyed, especially when his kindness or braveness played a Part in the story. Or when comments were made like "But scott's just so nice, what else is he gonna do?" "Derek looked up to Scott for his moral compass" blah blah blah And that's not to say ppl can't write good scott fics, or make him a squishy character. But while the hate mail doesn't bug me in the least, the constant berating over not liking him made me angrier and angrier, and I have to write him out of some stories. It's ruined quite a few of my long-term wips. I had one that I was at like 15k in, and i couldn't Get it to work for like months, and didn't know why. Until i reread it, and realized I'd written Scott as the bestest Alpha there ever was, the one who was so silly as to start taking his shoes off while he insisted on going 'along' when derek did a mindquest thing. Because he just wants to be So Helpful and So Kind and Good and Nice. And it was bullshit. EVEN IN THAT VERSION, I started the whole damn thing off with a scene of Scott and Derek getting in an argument with eyes and fangs and claws, Stiles jumping between them to try and get them to back down bc they were fighting like children, and Scott refusing. So Stiles has to turn to Derek, who needs no more than eye contact and hand on his chest to immediately back off. Imma repeat: Even when writing Scott as A GREAT ALPHA, my subconscious INSISTED on pointing out that when faced with the possibility of hurting Stiles because of his annoyance with someone else, SCott would refuse to back off, and Derek wouldn't. That Stiles would get better reason and logic from DEREK, than from his 'best friend'. that he was SAFER with Derek. And at the time I remember writing it and just going "whelp, i'll just write him like this for this fic." but after long enough of getting it shoved in my face, I can't STAND it anymore, and i have to COMPLETELY rewrite the general background for that fic to make it feel remotely accurate to his character as I see it now. I can't even read some of my old published work without fucking squicking myself bc I wrote lines about how sweet and good scott is, or I made him this selfless hero. This GOOD best friend to Stiles. I HATE that that happened to me. I hate that I can't even accept that there's a 'fanon' scott and a 'canon' scott. that I can't just....chill with it. But it pisses me off. So now, when I write, he's either the generic best friend character who shows up once in a while and has minimal impact on the story, or I just remove him altogether. And it's NOT HARD. It's NOT DIFFICULT to write a fic without Scott in it! I don't lose anything! Because Stiles HAS other friends I can use. Heather, or Lydia, or Erica, or Jackson, or Isaac. I don't need scott, because the true alpha thing is so bullshit as to be eraseable, and without that, he's nothing special. he's a werewolf, whatever, I've got like ten of those to choose from for parts. Or he's an alpha. I've got Derek, and any member of the Alpha pack if I need a villain, or Satomi, and that's if I don't want to bother just making one up. If I'm feeling salty, I'll make him the villain, or in league with the villain, and it's never difficult. I can always take his bullshit self-led moral code and apply it to whatever situation, so that it's clear he doesn't see himself as a villain, but you know he's still culpable. I just need to actually FINISH some of these wips and start posting them. XD

[bigskydreaming]

Do you have any character in any fandom that you hate so much or a character who bothers you so much that you can't look at any media without getting annoyed/ upset? Not like villain character, a normal or even fandom fave character, someone most others won't find anything wrong with but your guts hate them, that kind?

I mean, the most obvious example of this for me is definitely Stiles in Teen Wolf lol. I know that a lot of people didn’t start disliking him until later seasons but I just flat out never liked him from the get go, and like....it built and grew due to a lot of fandom attitudes towards the character?

Because like......I just do not enjoy characters who constantly seem to be making digs at or undercutting their supposed friends or family, the way Stiles was with Scott from the very pilot. Its like yeah great, I can absolutely see and recognize all the times he was there for him and did in fact do good friendship type stuff, but the problem for me lies in the way fandom tends to make that TRANSACTIONAL with the stuff I had a problem with where its almost like, well, see, since Stiles tried so hard to save Scott in this one episode Motel California, he GETS to casually insult and demoralize him all the rest of the time, and holy shit no that’s not how that works, y’know? (Especially because Scott’s shitty self-esteem was the bad guy’s way in for almost killing him in Motel California, and gee what connection could there be between shitty self-esteem and constantly being belittled and talked down to by your literal best friend in the whole world BUT I DIGRESS).

And a lot of people over the years have been like, okay but friends tease each other and give each other shit all the time, are you saying they’re all bad for doing so? And no, I’m not, but the thing people tend to gloss over here is the key phrase “each other.”

Because its one thing when you have friendships like this. Its another thing when those friendships flow entirely one way in this specific regard.

When one character is not only ‘allowed to’ but almost EXPECTED to take pot shots at their friend at every available opportunity, but any single time the other friend does the same, no matter how playfully, its fixated upon as being mean and unfriendly, like...THAT is the problem.

And while I don’t have a specific single character that answers your question here in terms of Batfandom, the exact same phenomenon rears its head there and I holy hell object to that too, lol.

Like, we see it SO often with how Dick’s brothers are habitually characterized as mocking his relationship with Bruce, work ethic, standards, jobs, apartment, fashion choices, cooking, NAME......with it just taken for granted that there’s nothing wrong with them all calling him Dickhead or saying he’s ‘really lived up to his namesake’ practically once a fic, if not once a chapter......

And again, the common refrain is “well siblings are just like that?”

And they’re not actually, is the thing. I mean, I grew up with siblings too, and YES we gave each other shit all the time, but again its that exact same key phrase: EACH OTHER.

Like in comparison to the above, how often do people read fic where Dick casually insults his brothers every time he meets up with them, or makes snide, backhanded offensive references to their own parents or memories/reminders of them, or insults their standards not even as a point of specific conflict, but just as a casual, generic expression of contempt?

Its not a two-way street there either at ALL, and THAT’S the issue.

(Also similar to the example I outlined with Motel California, a lot of people write stuff about Dick having shitty self-esteem, but again like.....when you pair this as hand in hand with Dick regularly being insulted and talked down to by his own family, who never ever seem to have anything good to say to him or about him until AFTER he has some kind of breakdown, its like......where do you think shitty self-esteem so often comes from?)

Like, I’ve had people tag fic/drabble posts where I have Dick engaging in what to my estimation is the equivalent of gently teasing Jason or Tim.....and people tag these with “I feel funny about this because Dick seems kinda mean to his brothers here”.....and then nine out of ten times, if I go onto their blog, within a PAGE or two, I see some post where Jason and Tim are calling Dick a Dickhead or mocking his intelligence with NO sign of funny feelings from that person and its like......its not the criticism I mind, lol, its that uh, one of these things (standards of behavior applied to each character) are not like the others.

Because a lot of times when pressed on this subject, people will respond with “well it wouldn’t be in character/Dick or Scott are too nice for that to be their sense of humor” and again its just kinda glossed over that uh, this is basically a tacit admission that the characterization you’re going with for everyone else is ‘not that nice, actually.’ BUT any time people call this specific kind of behavior out when these characters do it, THEN the response is not “well yeah, you’re right, its not that nice actually,” its a defensive “well okay but that’s just how these characters are, are you saying they’re assholes?”

And its like well no, actually you basically were the ones who said they were assholes when you made this a core part of their characterization, and now you’re using this weird kinda circular logic to loophole your way out of them being actually held up and acknowledged as such WHEN they’re characterized this way. 

If these specific other characters never get to retaliate or return fire BECAUSE they’re too nice, then there should be no problem acknowledging that when the characters who DO engage in this behavior are actively engaging in it.....they’re being assholes, and no, its just how friends/siblings are is not actually a defensive/deviation from this if their targeted friend/sibling is never actually able to do the same without being held up specifically as stepping outside the territory of “being nice.”

Few things bug me more in terms of basic character interactions/dynamics then the tendency fandom has of building up certain characters as having free reign with how they treat other characters, while simultaneously limiting these other characters from any kind of equivalent spectrum of behavior by using their own positive traits AGAINST THEM.....but with fandom at the same time being willing to full on go to war in defense of the first kind of characters if anyone draws any kind of connecting dots between their examples of frankly asshole-ish behavior and the implication that they might, in fact, be not that awesome as a result.

Its this annoying sleight of hand wherein certain characters can do or say anything without it being a reflection on who they are character-wise, while other characters step the SLIGHTEST toe out of the line that fandom has drawn for their character and how they’re EXPECTED to behave at all times in order to avoid active criticism.....and this then absolutely is an indication of how they’re actually flawed and gross and even abusive, because of how not nice what they’re doing is, and if people want them to NOT be perceived that way, they need to go back to characterizing them or focusing their characterization of them on all the times/ways in which they just placidly accept whatever’s dished out without any kind of reciprocation.

So yeah, Stiles was always a big example of this for me, but it was far from limited to just him. Any time a fandom is like “these characters can make fun of this character or be super critical of them but this character is never ever allowed to do the same in return, that’s against the law,” I’m like yeah no, that’s a swing and a miss for me. Hard pass on those particular fandom faves....at least so long as their fandom fave status seems to go hand in hand with their ability to inflict maximum psychic damage upon their alleged loved one any time they’re feeling down or are just in a mood, all while facing zero consequences for it....even in the simple form of their targeted ‘loved one’ ever simply being like yeah I just choose to not want to be around you when you’re being assholes to me/if you’re going to just be an asshole to me.

[christinesficrecs]

This trainwreck of a post is dedicated to oodball-faerietales for being a kind and generous soul. You are appreciated always. 💖

Every single one of these fics is a gift which I have opened multiple times and enjoyed them every time! I did not include any fics I’ve already mentioned this year and it was SUPER hard! But you can find more favorites here. 

Wait by cutloosemcgoose | 23.4K | Explicit

Sitting on his couch, staring at the wall, it feels like Derek is watching his whole, miserable, lonely life flash before his eyes. He’s twenty four and he’s alone. No family, no friends, no real pack. He’s six days away from spending one of the most family-oriented holidays of the year trying to avoid any human interaction. If anyone could see him right now, they would tell him he looks pathetic. If Laura could see him right now, she would probably beat the crap of him and then tell him he’s a loser.

I am a HUGE fan of the woke up married trope but this fic is so much more than that!!! I should probably say that I wasn’t that impressed with the movie The Family Man but this AU is 20 times better!!! So even if you don’t care for Nick Cage or kid fics, this fic is still worth a read. Why you say?!?!! Stiles is THE perfect husband through and through. He is EVERYTHING Derek deserves and so much more! Also, I was just chatting up @dearericbittle about how much I love a great epilogue:

“Are you ready?”

“Jesus, Derek,” Stiles says, turning around so quickly that his foot catches on the rug and he almost goes flying. “You’re not supposed to see me before the wedding, it’s bad luck.”

Derek rolls his eyes at Stiles and they stare at each other for a second, wordless, before Stiles cracks up.

“Yeah, I know,” he says. Derek used to think that Stiles was mildly psychic, maybe an empath or something because of the spark, but he’s since realized that Stiles just knows him—knows all of them—so well that’s it scary and a little out-of-this-world.

“Are you ready?” he asks again. Stiles straightens the lapels of his tux, frowns down at it.

“I feel really silly wearing something so fancy to be married by an Elvis impersonator, I’d just like to say.”

“Write your congressman,” Derek advises. “Come on, we gotta go.”

Big Days by crazyassmurdererwall ( smartalli) | 9.6K

It’s an impulse really, inviting Derek to spend Thanksgiving with him and his dad. The Sheriff. Who once arrested him. It’ll be fine. Stiles is sure it’ll be fine.

This is pure gold. EVERY single thing about this fic is a gift! 

“I might have invited someone to spend Thanksgiving with us.”

He lifts one eyebrow. “You might have?”

“Yeah, no. I absolutely did.”

He may as well own up to it. Besides he’s not sorry he did, he’s just sorry he has to have this decidedly awkward conversation.

“Okay…” John says slowly. “And do I know this person?”

“You do.” Stiles nods back, slowly. “Sort of.”

“Sort of.” His hand grasps the edge of the counter as he says, with a saintly patience born only out of years of being Stiles’ dad, “Does this person have a name?”

“They do.”

“Excellent. And their name would be…?”

Saturday Night At The Movies by aussiebee | 7.3K | Explicit

After running into Stiles at the late night movies, Derek realises just how badly Stiles is handling the post-nogitsune fallout. He knows the feeling.

Derek healing post-nogitsune Stiles with saturday night movie dates is perfect! 

Derek didn’t see much of Stiles in the days after that, but it was hard to be disappointed about it when he drove past the café on Fourth St and saw Stiles and Scott sitting inside, talking over coffee, or when he came out of the bank diagonally opposite the sheriff’s station to see Stiles and his dad sitting on the bench beneath the tree outside of it eating lunch together, both of them looking lighter than they had in months.

But then Saturday arrived again, and Stiles was letting himself into the loft, settling in against Derek’s side in his customary spot, bogarting the remote. “Spaceballs is on in twenty minutes,” he said, smelling of nerves and hope.

“I’m so excited I couldn’t hold my oil,” Derek quoted, making Stiles chuckle, the sound light and at ease.

“May the Schwartz be with you,” he responded gravely, then leaned into Derek and snuggled up close when Derek lifted an arm to drape around his shoulders.

A Walk in the Clouds by Dexterous_Sinistrous | 13.9K

The one set during WWII where Stiles is a pregnant grad student and Derek is a PTSD riddled soldier, both of them looking for a better life.

I love crossovers and AUs. Jill did such a great job with this film reboot!! 

Mieczysław couldn’t help the small smile on his lips. “You can call me Stiles,” he offered.

Derek sighed. “Stiles is certainly different than Mischief,” he stated.

“A nickname,” Stiles replied.

“Well, Stiles,” Derek started. “What if you brought home a husband?”

Stiles looked confused by Derek’s suggestion. “How could I do that? There is no one—”

“There’s me,” Derek replied.

“I— I couldn’t ask that of you,” Stiles began. “I already ruined your trip to San Francisco.”

“Maybe I was meant to be here,” Derek offered. “There seems to be a reason for me bumping into you on the train—exchanging our tickets. Getting kicked off the bus.”

“Those were all my fault,” Stiles dejectedly replied.

Derek shook his head. “Or it was fate knowing that you needed a husband for a day.”

Call Me (Cliché) by SomewheresSword | 84.6K | Mature

When the sheriff's sister ends up in a wheelchair for the duration of summer, Stiles' dreams of three months full of pack bonding, late-night video games and bro-time with Scott come crashing down. He's temporarily relocated to Redford, a three hour drive away, and he can already tell he won't be getting many visitors.

Sure the pack will forget about him while he's gone, Stiles is determined to make the most of his summer of isolation, training his body and mind - and his magic - so he can come back with a bang, and maybe catch a certain Sourwolf's eye.

Then Derek shows up at his window one night with a flimsy excuse about needing research done. Suddenly, his summer away is looking a whole lot more interesting.

When I was a young fangirl there was a series called Ever Fallen In Love With Someone. This is not that fic but the initial plot is similiar especially with the S2 vibe which gives me all the feels! 

“So, there’s this guy,” he began, anxiously reaching for a cookie and nibbling at the edge. Hannah nodded in a wordless ‘go on’ motion. “He’s… older. Dad wouldn’t like it. Or him.” Very firmly didn’t like him, as a matter of fact. Hannah’s grin widened.

“Ooh, a bad boy?” Stiles nodded — that was a bit of an understatement. “Sexy. Tell me about him.”

“He’s got these really dumb, scowly eyebrows that are about ninety percent of his facial expressions and at least fifty percent of those expressions threaten murder,” he said, the words coming before he could think to stop himself. “But he’s such a marshmallow and he doesn’t seem to realise that I can’t take him seriously anymore because I know he’s got all of the emotions. He’s so damn overprotective and sweet and he pretends like he doesn’t care about anything but it’s all lies and I just wanna give him a hug so bad because I honestly don’t know the last time someone hugged him for real.”

Tell Me, So I Know by TroubleIWant | 7.4K | Mature

It took years for Derek to finally confront the way he felt about Stiles, and even after he figured it out he could only explain in Spanish. It took them two years more to get to where they were now. Only with neither of them quite willing to commit, where exactly is that, anyways?

Well, for Stiles it’s a deserted stretch of road behind the Hale house, half trapped in a car wreck after being abducted by hunters. Frankly, he could really use Derek’s help if he’s going to get out of this alive. Mates are supposed to be able to tell when the other is in pain, right? As Derek would probably say, 'querido, no.'

Or, a love story in two parts... and two languages.

I love everything about this fic. It’s hot and beautiful with mates and polyglot Derek. So perfect! 

He trails off, knowing he can’t say amor in the next line without Stiles realizing exactly the sort of thing he’s being told.

“Holy hell,” Stiles rasps, his voice heavy with lust. Even in the low light Derek can see the pulse in his neck, the rabbit-fast tick confirming exactly how attractive Stiles finds his bilingual skills. “What was that?”

Derek shrugs. “Just something I memorized once. It reminds me of you.”

“What’s it mean?”

“It’s a parable about a sheep who pesters a wolf with too many questions and gets eaten for being so annoying.”

“Liar,” Stiles says with a smirk, but he leans back in his chair and doesn’t press the issue for the rest of the meal.

[dynamics-of-an-asteroid]

Dont suppose you have a copy of the interview you could share?

For you, dear anon~

His Dark Materials: Andrew Scott on life after Fleabag and Sherlock

We’ve loved him as both Fleabag’s Hot Priest and Sherlock’s menacing Moriarty. Now, he’s back on our screens in the new series of His Dark Materials. Polly Vernon talks to our TV crush

Andrew Scott is mortified. The actor – formerly Moriarty to Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock, then the Hot Priest of Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s Fleabag, imminently Colonel John Parry in the BBC’s adaptation of Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials – arrives at the photographic studio, bang on the appointed hour, in a fawn cashmere cardigan with a fine gold chain around his neck, bemoaning “this terrible, terrible eye infection, which is making me so self-conscious. I’m so sorry. It isn’t that you’ve massively upset me before we’ve even started. It’s so annoying. But anyway…”

Scott, 44, is small, vivid, wiry and garrulously Irish, with a face that is not handsome so much as mesmerising, intense, sharply boned, symmetrical, startlingly expressive. Sequences of emotions so subtle and complicated that I can’t begin to identify or keep up with them ruffle his brow from moment to moment. And, yup, the whole thing is rather disrupted by his left eye. This is no light kiss of conjunctivitis. It’s a swollen, red, perma-weeping situation that engulfs the whole socket. Scott turns his face two thirds on to me, so the infection is largely hidden, which would probably help if we weren’t sitting in a brightly lit hair and make-up room with a massive, inescapable mirror fixed to one wall. “Oh God,” Scott says every time he catches sight of his reflection.

Stress?

“Let’s be honest,” he says. “Let’s not skirt around the issue. It’s being overworked and…” Scott’s eye begins weeping. “Oh my goodness. I am so sorry. Really, really very sorry.”

Wanna wear my sunglasses, I ask, holding them out to him.

“That would be a bit more weird, wouldn’t it? I actually did think about that in the taxi, but I thought that would be some sort of weird and screwed Invisible Man-type thing. I mean, it couldn’t be worse. And then we have to go and get our photograph taken. It’ll be one of those pictures where, you know, those creepy pictures… Of people crying?”

That’s what Photoshop’s for, I say.

“Anyway. Let’s just ignore it.”

I wonder if it’s particularly hard to walk around with an eye infection at a point in time where you’re not merely famous, as Scott is – a star of stage, screen and Bond film, winner of multiple awards, including, as of barely two weeks ago, a Best Actor Olivier for Present Laughter at the Old Vic – but specifically famous for being sexy.

In 2019, Andrew Scott became synonymous with, well, sex. While playing a character technically known as the Priest, whom the general public instantly renamed the Hot Priest, the spiritual support turned transgressive love interest of Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s supremely popular Fleabag, Scott became a cypher for the nation’s more exotic desires. A deliciously contentious pin-up. Ground zero on an earnest social media debate about whether the Priest’s relationship with Fleabag should be considered abusive, power imbalanced, “problematic”. And that was just for starters.

The Priest’s sexual iconography extended far beyond the limits of the show, becoming the subject of internet memes and real-life merchandise (visit online retailer Etsy for your £12 Hot Priest mug emblazoned with an illustration of Scott in priest’s robes, alongside the word “kneel”, a reference to a pivotal moment between the show’s lead characters, which takes place in a confession box, the climax of which, assuming you haven’t already seen it, you could probably take a stab at). There was an unprecedented upsurge in young worshippers, and women started bombarding social media “influencer” the Rev Chris Lee of west London with nude photographs. There was much foetid fan fiction.

To be publicly defined by so much sex, as Scott still is, a year and a half after Fleabag concluded, and then to be encumbered by something as visibly unsexy as an eye infection, I can see how that might make a chap self-conscious.

Scott isn’t here to rake up all that old Hot Priest stuff, mind. He’s here to talk about the second series of His Dark Materials, a lush, expensive fantasy drama based on the Philip Pullman books, jewel in the crown of the BBC’s autumn schedule. The series was filmed through 2019 and the beginning of 2020 and had all but wrapped before lockdown. Good timing, as it turned out, because the extensive post-production processes, unlike shooting, could be completed in isolation.

Scott’s Colonel John Parry is an explorer, the missing father of the central character, 14-year-old Will Parry. He’s a man who slipped into a parallel universe some years earlier, acquired a “daemon” – an exterior animal-formed expression of his soul, a female osprey called Sayan Kötör, voiced with public-pleasing symmetry by Phoebe Waller-Bridge – and never found a way back to “our” world and his son. I speak as a fan of the books, which you might describe as a darker, existential response to Harry Potter, although honestly? They’re better than that. The show is great, a deft, rewarding interpretation, and Scott is an exciting prospect as Parry.

Did he jump at the part?

“I did, actually. It was definitely something I was into. We were doing a play and it seemed like a fun thing to do.” Scott is one of those who slips into the third person when speaking about himself in a professional capacity.

Had he read the books?

“Yeah,” he says. “I think they’re extraordinary. The truth, but told on a slant. I love the way Pullman tells children about spirituality or religion in such an extraordinary, intelligent way. He doesn’t speak down to them. He talks to children’s souls.”

Given that Pullman effectively kills off God through the course of the books and Scott’s a lapsed Irish Catholic who has suffered his share of shame on account of the church’s grip on his homeland (more on which shortly), I’d imagine Pullman’s books talked to Scott’s adult soul too.

Presumably, he didn’t have to audition. Presumably, he never has to. Too famous for auditions?

“No,” he says. “Although I’ve always thought auditioning is a pretty good thing to do.”

Why?

“Because you’re able to understand, ‘Oh, this is the vibe here.’ You think, when you’re an actor, you don’t have much choice, but I’ve always felt like auditioning is a good opportunity for you to go, ‘Oh well, I don’t much like you either. I think you’re dreadful!’ ”

I don’t care that you didn’t give me that part?

“Yeah.” Scott becomes playfully, theatrically defiant. “I don’t care!” He flicks aside an imaginary rejection with a churlish hand.

Will John Parry and His Dark Materials be enough to eliminate all residual overtones of Hot Priest sexiness from Scott? Maybe. He is a fine actor, no question, entirely transformed from role to role. I saw him play Paul, a narcissistic, fame-addled touring rock star, at the Royal Court in 2014 in Simon Stephens’ Birdland, back when his deeply sinister Moriarty weighed almost as heavily on Scott’s reputation as the Hot Priest does now. I’d watched him become someone else entirely on stage. “Oh, you saw that?” Scott says, pleased.

I quote, “Am I cancer?” at him, his defining line from the play, as evidence.

“Oh Jesus. Oh f***ing hell. Oh my. I’d forgotten that line. ‘Am I cancer?’ ”

The Hot Priest association hasn’t left him yet, which is why I find myself asking what it’s like to be the very definition of sexiness.

“You get invited to more parties.”

Better parties?

“Yeah.”

Better than during his Moriarty phase?

“Definitely.”

It must be fun to find yourself le dernier cri in sexy, according to the whole nation.

“Yeah, that’s fun,” he says. “I didn’t really like being associated with scary. It’s not what I’m interested in being, in life, being intimidating to people. It’s not part of my nature, whereas being sexy to people…”

That is part of his nature?

“Well, they’re very different things.”

They’re both about having power over people.

“I suppose they are, yes.”

So did Scott, bored of scaring people, say to Phoebe Waller-Bridge, writer and star of Fleabag and a long-term friend (they met in 2009 while starring in Roaring Trade at the Soho Theatre), “Write a role for me that will make everyone think I’m just really, really sexy now”?

“That’s such a good belt. Are they two ‘Gs’?”

“Exactly.”

——————————

Andrew Scott is not the easiest interview. He’s utterly charming. Really, just a delight. In between prostrating himself for the offence of his eye and apologising for not turning up the first time we were scheduled to meet (ten days earlier; a delayed Covid test result meant he couldn’t make it), he ensures I have a good time in his company. He is playful. He makes me laugh. His every utterance is delivered as a grand performance. (“Shhhh! Just… Shhhh!” he implores, placing a finger against his lips while expressing frustrations over the mindless jabber of social media, and he does it so powerfully, he compels me to be quiet, breathlessly to await delivery of his next line.) He finds elegant ways to flatter me. He laughs at my jokes and is terribly taken with my belt.

Yeah. For Gucci.

“Oh. Ha ha! I thought it was the Golden Globes. I love the Golden Globes. Ha ha!”

And of course, he’s Irish. Clichédly, melodiously Irish, which makes everything sound softer and jollier than it might otherwise.

As for the actual business of being interviewed, of answering straight questions with straight answers, finishing off sentences, offering more than a slip-slide of vagaries punctuated by vigorous hand gestures, none of which translates into print? He’d rather not.

He tells me, as he’s told other journalists before, this is because he’s interested in navigating the line between “privacy and secrecy”, then says he’s aware he’s sometimes “got away with secrecy under the guise and respectability of privacy”, as if signalling potential incoming slipperiness, which means I prepare to throw every trick in the book at him.

First up: amateur psychology.

Might Andrew Scott’s gayness be at the heart of his reluctance to speak more freely? Perhaps. This is no scoop. He’s been out for almost as long as he’s been famous. “I mean, as a civilian, I was quite young [when I came out], you know? But then, as a celebrity…”

He tails off, allows me to fill in the blanks. This is another of his evasion tactics. I can’t very well quote Scott on the presumptions I make about things he never quite says.

He had to have another coming out?

“Yes. And I have another one coming up.”

He has another coming out coming up?

“Yeah.”

So that will be, what? Tier 3 gayness?

“Tier 3, yeah.”

Scott grew up in Ireland at a time when it wasn’t legal to be gay, which could certainly seed an enduring reluctance towards carefree openness in a person. He invokes the concept of shame more regularly than the average interviewee. He was born in Dublin in 1976 to Nora, an art teacher, and Jim, who worked at an employment agency. He has one older sister, Sarah, and a younger one, Hannah.

He was shy, so started attending a children’s drama course.

Did that help?

“Yeah. Acting to me is not pretending to be someone else. It’s more like, this is who I actually am. The lie that tells the truth,” he says. I am none the wiser. He was clearly talented. He went from adverts to his first starring role in a film aged 17 (Korea, directed by Cathal Black), won a bursary to art school but took a place at Trinity College Dublin to study drama instead, and ditched that six months in to join Dublin’s Abbey Theatre. He’s been gainfully employed in the field ever since.

How Catholic was his upbringing?

“Well, there were Catholic priests in my life,” he says. “None of whom I wanted to have sex with.”

Does it amuse Scott to know he inspired a mass fetishising of priestly ranks? That in 2019, the Hot Priest would make, “Can you have sex with a Catholic priest?” one of the most googled terms of the year?

“Absolutely f***ing mental,” he says.

Homosexuality wasn’t legalised in Ireland until 1993, when Scott was 16.

“I always think, if I’d had a boyfriend then, which I definitely did not…”

No?

“No.”

He knew he was gay, though?

“No. No, no, no, no!”

Was he suppressing it or not thinking about it?

“I would say suppressing. Definitely suppressing. I don’t believe people just don’t think about it.”

An upbeat, cheesy jazz remix of something or other starts playing outside the room.

“Oooh, this is the soundtrack for this bit of the interview,” says Scott. He wiggles his shoulders to the music.

I switch to strict dominatrix interviewer mode. Focus, I say. You were about to tell me something good.

“Oh, shit, was I? OK. I think what’s really insidious is that people don’t ask you about sex or… People wouldn’t say, ‘Are you gay or are you [straight]?’ And the lack of directness is very damaging. They just didn’t go there.”

Does he think his family, friends, the people closest to him knew then that he was gay?

“No,” he says. “I don’t think they did know. Or maybe they have a suspicion, but they think, I want to be respectful, so I’m not going to ask about that. Then [when you do come out], people say, ‘Oh, I’m glad.’ You know? If you do talk about it. So I suppose what I feel now is, talking about sex or sexuality is important. Really important.”

Having said that, “There’s still getting rid of the shame. In a situation like this, 10 or 15 years ago, I would have been…” He fakes shock, horror. “Oh no! Polly’s just asked me about [he switches to a whisper] that.”

Scott will talk about his sex life only notionally. No specifics. For 15 years, between 2001 and 2016, he was in a relationship with the actor turned screenwriter Stephen Beresford (Scott starred in Beresford’s 2014 film Pride). Ever since, he’s refused to answer questions about his romantic life.

And he’s not going to talk about it now, I presume.

“No.”

What if we talk about it opaquely?

“OK.”

Where does he see himself, domestically, in an ideal world? Married with kids whom he’ll, I dunno, adopt or have via surrogacy?

“I like it. It’s bold. Am I going to adopt or…?”

Get a surrogate?

“I definitely think that’s something I would be open to.”

Great, I say, with blatant sarcasm. Thanks. How specific.

“Ha! I’m sorry. OK. Have I got any children at the moment? No. How can I… [explain]? OK. I was with a friend of mine in Dublin…”

His partner?

“No, no, no. Not my partner. Ah ha. I see what you were…”

Teasing. Yes.

“Ha! Yes. So, I was with a friend in Dublin and we were walking around and he was looking at apartments and I was like, ‘What about this place here?’ You know? And he said, ‘No,’ and I said, ‘Why not?’ and he said, ‘I don’t live a heteronormative life, so I don’t want a heteronormative house.’ ”

What’s a heteronormative house?

“Two up, two down thing. He goes, ‘I can live in a loft or a weird space. I don’t need those things.’ He was so proud of it. He really owned it. I think where a lot of one’s pain comes from is when you go, ‘I should want that.’ And so, to answer your question opaquely, I have kids I adore. I love children, genuinely, and I had a very happy childhood. But I also feel, if I don’t have kids, that’s all right. I think I would’ve attached a lot of shame beforehand, with not living a particularly heteronormative life… Even with being gay, there’s a sort of way of being gay that’s acceptable. And I don’t feel that any more.”

He feels you can be unacceptably gay?

“Exactly. Exactly!”

I ask when shame shifted for him and Scott says it was when Ireland voted overwhelmingly in favour of same-sex marriage in the 2015 referendum, which felt, he says, “like acceptance, genuinely. And I remember going out to this gay bar in Dublin and this girl came up to me, this cool Dublin girl, and she said, ‘What are you doing here? You need to go down to, I don’t know, blah, blah, this bar in some park.’ She was saying, ‘This isn’t the right gay bar for you. This is some shit gig,’ when the fact I’m in a gay bar in Ireland [at all] is a miracle to me, and then some person with a half-shaved head is telling me, ‘No, you need to go somewhere cooler.’ ”

His left eye starts weeping again.

“I’m so happy about that,” he says. “Even though I’m crying.”

I ask Scott if he has a game plan when picking roles, if he plots his course from Sherlock villain to Bond quasi-villain (he played Max Denbigh in Spectre) to sex icon, and, if so, what next? “No. Jesus, no,” he says.

We talk about the totalitarianism of social media, which he isn’t on, and share a mutual despair over it. “I thought it was something one would associate with the right, but actually, now it’s [the left] that is very ‘you’re this’ or ‘you’re that’. I find that quite frightening. It actually makes me feel ferocious.”

Is he not worried about being cancelled, of somehow saying the “wrong” thing, according to Twitter sensitivities, then having a thousand voices mobilised against him, demanding his firing, in the style of JK Rowling?

“I’m not,” he says. “I refuse to be. A very intelligent person I was talking to recently was writing a book and he said, ‘I’m going to get a sensitivity expert to have a look. I don’t want to get cancelled.’ I found that frightening.”

Is he rich? “Rich is the absence of worry about money,” he says. He can’t remember the last time he worried about money.

That must be nice.

“Of course it f***ing is. I think it’s a miracle. I really do. I was working in a French theatre in London for nothing – none of us was working for anything – and I remember the artistic director of the theatre talking about the fact we weren’t earning any money as some sort of virtue. I remember feeling really annoyed about that, like this isn’t good.”

This leads to an inevitable conversation about how the arts are suffering with Covid, including a segue down the Fatima route, the much shared government advert that depicted a young ballerina and suggested she retrain in something called cyber. “Her name’s not even Fatima,” Scott rails. “I think she’s called Desire’e. From New York.”

I mean to ask him about his experience of filming The Pursuit of Love with Lily James and Dominic West, stars of their own recent off-screen micro-scandal in Rome, just in case he lets any scurrilous insight slip, but our time’s up and it’s not as if Scott has much form on offering up scurrilous insight anyway.

Still, I feel grateful to him for meeting me halfway on the other stuff. And so I say goodbye to Andrew Scott, the UK’s foremost gay heterosexual lapsed Catholic faux-priest lust icon with a troublesome eye infection.

[x-gotham-rogues]

If Jonathan was to join the Batfamily, how would that work out?

Suddenly, I can’t stop thinking about this idea.

Also, a few thousand words of this post got deleted when I tried to save but my computer froze and decided to say goodbye to all that work. Hours upon hours, wasted. I feel like shit. Just a teensy bit.

Here’s to always writing on Google Docs before copy and pasting on tumblr from now on.

This stuff happens around Year One, so the Batfam is currently only Bruce, Dick and Alfred

Let’s just assume Jonathan gets kidnapped/forcibly adopted into the family by Bruce right before he got to kill anyone because I cannot recall whatever detailed prequel I had written for this idea

All I do remember is that there was some sort of emotional blackmail going on that kept Jonathan from running away and trying to kill someone again

Month by month, Bruce and Dick try to 1) chip at Jonathan’s walls, 2) make sure Jonathan doesn’t find out about them being Batman and Robin, and 3) make Jonathan healthy again because the man looks like he is going to crumble the second he gets poked

Because of the whole ‘forcing Jonathan to stay at Wayne Manor’, Jonathan’s obsession with fear never really gets developed all that much

Don’t get me wrong, it’s still there, he’s just not a crazy mad scientist anymore

BOOKS, however

Everyone, Jonathan Crane’s got a new drug, and it ain’t fear toxin

Wayne Manor’s library is far larger than Keeny Manor’s library

There are so many more subjects, so many more stories, so much more stuff Keeny Manor didn’t have because of the heavy superstition like Edgar Allan Poe, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Oscar Wilde, Shakespeare, etc.

Jon is 1001% addicted

At times, Alfred would have to act like an annoyed parent because Jonathan is just so reluctant to stop reading

Like, where was all this absolute gold when he was a kid!?

Meals are very awkward because Jonathan doesn’t understand people at all, Dick’s still kind of doubtful of Jonathan, and Bruce is also just a tad bit paranoid

But also, whenever Jonathan eats Alfred’s cooking, his eyes light up because as a kid and teen he was fed slop from his great granny, and even as an adult he was rather poor and hardly ate because of his obsession with fear-based revenge, so he appreciates any bit of good food he gets

One morning when he explains to Dick that he’s never eaten bacon before, Dick laughs, takes a look at Jonathan’s face, realises he was being serious and practically drags Jonathan around the whole day eating junk food

Bruce was a bit disappointed at Dick but lets Jonathan finish his ice cream cone

At some point, Bruce decides that if wants to unlock Jonathan’s backstory, he’s going to have to do more research

With Bruce spending more time down at the Batcave doing research and Jonathan still holing up in the library, Dick’s bored as all Hell

That’s... not a good thing

He tries to rope Jonathan into some chaos, but Jonathan’s never been the type to cause mischief

Plus he’s too busy reading

Dick sees that he’s definitely not going to get anywhere trying to get this fully grown adult who might possibly be even older than Bruce to break some shit with him

So he sits down and plays a popular indie game his friends have been recommending to him; a certain game called ‘Five Nights at Freddy’s’

(Yes, I am aware this doesn’t fit into the timeline, let a person have some fun)

Bruce couldn’t hear him down in the Batcave, but Jonathan hears Dick’s scream loud and clear

He runs to wherever Dick was playing the game and sees Dick just staring at the screen

Jonathan raises an eyebrow and asks what happened

“The... the power went out... I was so-! 5AM. IT WAS 5AM WHEN THE POWER WENT OUT. THERE WAS PROBABLY LIKE A MINUTE LEFT. I WAS SO CLOSE! ARGGGHHH!”

Gone was the shocked face, replaced with one of unadulterated rage

“Why is Night 4 so hard?! Can’t you have waited one minute Freddy? ONE!?”

Should he... leave? Was Richard talking to him?? What was he supposed to do???

Eventually, Alfred finds Jonathan awkwardly doing nothing and tells him he could go back to the library, but the game was a horror game and he thinks Jonathan may have an interest in it

Jonathan, worried for the sanity of the boy in front of him, agrees to watch him play

Dick tries to rage quit multiple times, but then Jonathan would try his hand at the game and Dick keeps telling him he’s doing something wrong and takes back the controller

In an unexpected turn of events, Jonathan gets super invested in the plot

Soon enough, both Dick and Jonathan are heatedly discussing FNAF’s possible canon, and Dick mentions that there’s more games

Upon this revelation, Jonathan half demands half pleads to play the others and so they do

Sister Location did have some triggers, but Dick helped Jon get through them

Bruce came up from the Batcave to find Dick and Jonathan shouting about someone named ‘Afton’

When Bruce asked about it, he fully expected it to be either one of Dick’s friends or maybe Jonathan’s old coworkers, boy was he wrong

He’s glad the two are getting along (easier to get Jonathan to open up), but now he has to deal with two horror nerds

Yes, Jonathan has converted Dick into a horror junkie

Yes, Dick has converted Jonathan into a game theorist

(I kind of want to give them a YouTube channel but that might be stretching it a bit)

Eventually, Jonathan tells them his entire tragic backstory, including details they didn’t already know, like great granny Keeny’s abuse other than starvation

When Dick privately asks Bruce why he decided to do this in the first place, Bruce confesses that during the first fight between Scarecrow and Batman + Robin, he felt like he and Jonathan were far too similar for his own liking and that seeing someone so similar to him nearly kill drives him just a bit crazy, so he needed to prove to himself that even if he goes down the wrong path he could reform

Jonathan hears this

He’s really mad at first, but just decides he doesn’t have the energy for it (honestly, mood, but relatable) and lets it go

Then simultaneously realises that these two people are Batman and Robin

And smacks himself mentally because just look at their body sizes, their entire dynamic, of-fucking-course they’re Batman and Robin

He doesn’t confront them for a while

But when he does and they ask him how he knows, he says, “You’re just really loud.”

Bruce gets worried about Jon lashing out and Dick is upset because he considers Jon a friend (aww)

But Jonathan just brushes it off like it’s nothing and explains that he’s glad they stopped him early into his criminal career, otherwise he might’ve gone down a road he couldn’t come back from

And that he was glad he got to stay with them and be considered their friend

Bruce gives this tiny smile, Alfred pats Jon on the back and Dick straight-up tackles him into a bone-crushing hug

So Jonathan is now officially in the Batfamily

Dick convinces Bruce to give Jon a costume and teach him to fight

So Gotham gets a new vigilante named Crow

Though his targets always seem to be those who harm children or those who use their money for corrupt purposes

Ending on a happy note! I don’t know what this is, to be honest, but if you did make it to the end, I hope you liked it!

[stxleslyds]

MY REVIEW OF UNDER THE RED HOOD!

EDIT: This is Tati from the present, Hello! I am writing this little message right now to let you know that I am rebloging this post because I recently re-read it and I wanted to make it “better”, this was my second review that I had ever made and I am quite fond of it but it needed to be brushed up and made easier to read. Now, let me be honest, I am not an excellent writer so there are probably some mistakes here still but I like it even more now, so yeah, that’s all I had to say!

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

This review is here not only because I love that book but because Geoff Johns and Scott Lobdell’s characterization of Jason and Red Hood gives me nightmares and it’s just annoying.

First let me set the scene, here we go!

Jason’s death was confirmed in book three of four in the Death in the Family event back in December, 1988 (Batman #428). But he is officially brought back sixteen years and two months after his death in the iconic Batman: Under the (Red) Hood event (Batman #635-641, #645-650, Annual #25)

This particular event is just wonderful, I love this for many reasons some of which I will probably talk about in this post but it has impacted me so much that if anyone asks me what Batman story I would recommend it would be this one.

Now just a heads up, I always felt impartial to Batman as a hero but around three years ago I started borderline hating the guy and now I just can’t stand him half of the time, and I blame it on his overuse and the god complex that some writers can’t seem to write him without. So, I don’t really recommend UtRH in a good light when talking about the Bat himself. It’s all about my boy, Jason Todd.

UtRH is just amazing at showing these two character’s motivations and how they seem to think that their ways of handling crime are the best way. But it also shows us so many aspects of how Jason’s death impacted both Jason and Bruce.

Let’s start the review!

UtRH starts with a look into the future, a fight between Batman and a mysterious man in a red helmet that seems to not be an easy opponent for the Bat and it also looks like these two have been going at it for a while but just as we arrive we see that it may be over in the Bat’s favor but in that exact moment the red helmeted man unmasks Batman! Seemingly not shocked that Bruce Wayne is the Bat the mysterious man decides that he will show his face too...but all we get to see is Bruce’s face of shock and then.... we are thrown back at what we come to believe is the real beginning of the story.

Probably you can’t tell, but to me this is an amazing start to a story, you have the Bat who is sold as an excellent fighter struggling in a fight but when it seems that he is going to win something major happens... the mysterious man unmasks a legendary hero and doesn’t make a fuss about it and then he manages to shock the Bat by showing his face (which is not shown to the reader), I just think its genius, it sets up this new guy as an incredibly good and interesting character.

So now we find ourselves thrown back 5 weeks in the past and we come in contact with a meeting with some very shady people that don’t really know who put together the whole thing and while they try to rationalize it a round of shots hits the table they are sitting around.

Here is where we see this leather-jacket-wearing dude, holding an AK-47 while posing for the Google earth cameras, telling those people that he reunited them and that he is hot shit. He is there to make a deal; the dramatic queen wants to run the underworld of Gotham and not only is he offering protection against the Black Mask but against the Bat too.

Well, needless to say, those guys aren’t necessarily buying what he is selling so that my friends takes us to an iconic moment, this dude proceeds to throw a duffel bag with the heads of these people’s lieutenants and to finish it off he just shots another round to make the message clear...I mean talk about dramatic entrances!

Please don’t worry I didn’t forget about the most important part of this whole entrance...we were just introduced to this man who means business and wants to rule Gotham’s underworld and manage its drug trade and it’s all very swell but the truly important thing is what he says next:

“You stay away from kids and school yards. NO dealing to children, got it? If you do, you are DEAD.”

That’s a powerful message and this is just me speculating but if he has to make that specification clear...it leads me to think that kids are people that he wants to protect and no matter how much money they could bring to the business he wants them out of the equation, also the price for breaking that rule is death…. So yeah, is he truly a villain or...?

Now after all of this we jump to Black Mask receiving information of a new player in the game and he doesn’t seem like he cares, to him it’s just a newbie trying to mess around on a street level so he moves on with his business of recruiting Mr. Freeze for an undisclosed job. On the other hand, we are shown Batman crying over the fact that Oracle isn’t working with him anymore and then teaming up with Nightwing (that is wearing a knee brace and probably shouldn’t be out doing extreme parkour with his furry dad but hey, what do I know?)

We see Freeze trying on some new clothes and then we are back again with Black Mask, here, for the very first time we hear the new player’s name...Red Hood.

Following Batman and Nightwing we find them intercepting a shipment that appears to have a bunch of gadgets from several villains and among them there was a bomb, it explodes (detonated by the Red Hood) and from then on, the fun begins...the Bat and Nightwing go on pursuit and we get to see what the Bat thinks about Hood. He thinks that he is very well trained, agile and unpredictable, he also has an overall sense of familiarity coming from Hood but he ends up saying that it’s nothing they haven’t seen before, what he doesn’t expect is having been led to a trap which is, Amazo, yay! (Amazo was the cargo that Mask was waiting for).

Amazo is taken down with a little bit of struggle but he eventually is thrown to Gotham harbor and we are informed in another panel by Mask that Amazo wasn’t supposed to be activated so we can safely assume that it was Hood the one who did it. Mask is pissed that the Bat broke his toy and is going to be more pissed off when he answers a call from a certain red helmeted man...

Hood informs Mask that he took one of the crates from the shipment and that it might be one of the most valuable ones, our boy stole a crate with at least one hundred pounds of kryptonite...yeah no big deal.

Here I will make a stop to tell you that we know that this Red Hood is extremely tactical, he has a plan within a plan that takes down several players, he is confident in what he is doing and is certainly not afraid to get his hands dirty. He is a worthy opponent to Black Mask, Nightwing and Batman. We are just starting to know him but he is already great and it only gets better.

As we enter chapter three of the story we see Hood asking for 50 million dollars from Black Bask for the kryptonite that he stole from Black Mask (say that again), to everyone’s surprise Mask “agrees” to give him the money easily... well, not really, Mask is going to send Freeze to kill Hood and get that (quite honestly) unnecessary amount of kryptonite back.

Hood obviously knew that he wasn’t going to get whatever money he negotiated but he also wasn’t quite ready to take on Freeze but he did his best. When Freeze is the last one standing Batman shows up and a kinda lame fight ensues...Freeze leaves and Hood says that he really doesn’t care about the kryptonite, all he wants is the “lay of the land” and then leaves.

If you are wondering where Hood went, well…he went to an abandoned funhouse to terrorize the Joker! Yes people, it’s confirmed, Hood is a good boy! Go get him Hood I am rooting for you!

IT IS CROWBAR TIME! (And this time in reverse)

 In the start of chapter four Hood is blowing up yet another truck full of weapons belonging to Mask.

Elsewhere Batman is bothering Zatanna about one of Ra’s Al Ghoul’s (sealed) Lazarus pits. Asking if the pit can raise the dead and being his natural rude self. Because he doesn’t get the information that he needs and goes to Jason Blood who tells him that if he wants to know about people who came back from the dead he might as well talk to Green Arrow but his chat with him doesn’t lead anywhere so that’s that.

Onyx is introduced to us as a vigilante accepted by the Bat (you know, because of that thing where other vigilantes can only do their thing in Gotham if the Bat lets them because he is the high king or something) and when she comes across some dealers she finds out they work for the Red Hood and given that he is an unknown player she relieves the information to B who acts like an ass because he thought she had seen Hood and that she compromised one of his informants…now here is the thing, why does B act like everyone has mind reading abilities? How on earth would she have known that he had an informant and that the Red Hood wasn’t news to him...I am sorry dude but you are a shitty person of the highest quality  

Anyway, Onyx is actually doing her work watching shady men talk about if they will or not join the Red Hood, one of them says something like “I won’t join that psycho because he decapitated some of my men” (good men, he specified) but Onyx isn’t alone, Hood makes it known by telling her that those men were selling drugs to twelve-year-old’s (remember kids are protected by Hood, you absolutely do not involve them and if you do...well, congrats, you are dead)

At this point we are in chapter six of the story and another character trait is revealed to us from Red Hood, he is meticulous in the way he works. He knows almost everyone involved in the drug trade, what they did and are doing, the relationships they hold with Mask or whoever their boss is. The information he gathers lets him know if the people will stick to his rules and can also use the information he has against them. So, he is extremely dangerous, we have to imagine that if he is that thorough with street level baddies what kind of knowledge does he have on people like Batman...well, spoiler alert, he knows everything and he will use it and has been using it since he first saw him.

 While Onyx and Hood are on their way to take down those men Batman is in Metropolis asking Superman about his death and how he managed to come back to life.

Onyx soon understands what “taking down” truly means when it comes to Hood...they manage to get out of the warehouse just for him to grab a gun and shoot everyone on sight, which doesn’t sit well with Onyx so she tells him that, to which Hood has something to say just before he stabs her:

“Welcome to earth, baby! These dead sacks of meat on the floor made their living by beating, raping and devouring. Fear isn’t the answer.”

And I want to put as much importance into this as I did to the whole “keep kids away from this business” because it’s really important in what’s to come and the way Hood thinks is the better way to battle crime in Gotham.

That sentence alone tells us what kind of people Hood takes down, he plays judge, jury and executioner, he chooses who he kills and who is worth leaving alive if their crimes aren’t the ones that he decided must be paid with death. But it goes beyond that, he brings the fear factor… we know how batman works, he relies in criminals fearing him and the fact that they will be beaten and sent to jail or Arkham (if they are mad enough).

Here is what I believe is the fundamental difference between the fear factor used by those two, on the Bat’s side, the fear is left in the people he attacks but in Hood’s side, the fear is left in those who find the bodies.

After Hood stabs Onyx he decides to stay and chat, he tells her that he stabbed her in the shoulder because he knows it hurts and because (look at this smartass) he saw that she was “favoring one side” so he deduced that she had had an injury and teases her about maybe coming back to crime fighting a bit early...if you don’t think that’s cocky enough he then makes a comment about how the angle of the knife will make it harder for her to pull it out so, there you go, the man is well trained and knows what he is doing.

After that we get another piece of information about Hood and it’s actually given to us and Onyx by Hood himself, he says “I am no one’s son”.

Hood also shows us another character trait of his...he is a little shit. And very good at it. After he stabs Onyx “choice time” comes, basically he gives her two (three) options either he takes out the blade and she runs or he pulls the blade down from her shoulder to her hip and she bleeds out.  He also says that she could maybe join him, which is revealed quite quickly to be a joke and then proceeds to take the blade out and covering the wound with a “high-end field dressing for the modern soldier. It adheres as well as closes the wound with an antibacterial adhesive agent...stops the bleeding cold”.

I wrote the whole thing word for word because I think it’s important for us to see that he saved her life, and he also didn’t let her choose he just did it, let’s think about this, Hood shows up to that meeting not expecting to see Onyx there and instead of losing his cool he just talks to her about the men,  invites her to fight (his way but she didn’t know that) they make their escape and after the men are all killed by Hood she is furious so he, rather violently, completely immobilizes her so he can tell her what’s on his mind and then he gives her choices but here is what I really think...she never had choices because she is not his target, she doesn’t fit among the people that he thinks must be put down, so stabbing her came hand in hand with saving her.

Saving her just to ask her if she will “get up, fight and stop him” because he is still a cocky bastard...but surprise! Batman showed up to the party!

Hood isn’t too shaken up, in fact he uses the opportunity to make a show of his knowledge of the Bat’s thinking and his gadgets...he flatters the fact that he didn’t even hear him land and starts explaining to Onyx how the plane works, it can be stealthy or it can destroy your eardrums, then the chase ensues, B actually makes Hood fall at some point but it really doesn’t bother him, he continues to “flatter” the Bat’s technique, training and gadgets (all to fight the “malignant scum that ravage this city” Hood says) but ultimately tells him that he also has toys (that apparently he intercepted from Kord industries).

The chase turns into a fight in a rooftop, and yes my friends, this is the fight from the beginning of the story, the “you show me your face and I show you mine” fight.

Hood wants Batman to ask himself what has he done, and this I suppose is in reference to what he has done to deserve Hood coming after him. To which the Bat offers nothing but accuses Hood of being a murderer to which he answers with “No. I’ve killed, not murdered”

That confuses me, so first I will tell you what I found about the difference between killing and murdering somebody. A human kills another when it’s without intent or an accident, on the other hand when a human murders another it’s done with intent. About intent I found the following: “A person intends a consequence when they 1) foresee that it will happen if their given series of acts or omissions continue, and 2) desire it to happen.”

I don’t really know if Winick or the editors mixed the concepts of the two or if there is more to it. I honestly cannot wrap my head around it. It really doesn’t fit with what he has been saying, like the no dealing drugs to kids because if they do they will pay with their lives.

Anyway, my confusion is not what matters here, what matters is that we have arrived to the moment in which Red Hood will reveal to Batman his identity yay!

It’s Jason! Jason Todd is back from the grave!

It takes a bit of time for Bruce to come to terms with the reality of things but Jason assures him that he is who he says he is, he even suggests that Bruce has known his identity for a while and that it has been brewing in his head since Clayface.

I know, there are some things that need to be cleared up, the UtRH story is set in issues #635 (February, 2005) to #650 (April, 2006) but in a previous story (Batman: Hush) that ran from issues #608 to #619 “Jason” or better said Clayface disguised as an adult version of Jason had a fight with Batman where some old wounds were opened, this happened in issue #618 (October, 2003).

As far as we know that Jason wasn’t real and that was that, in fact we didn’t get the real events up until Red Hood: The Lost Days, a miniseries that came out in 2010, in the last issue it’s explained to us that by the time of Batman: Hush’s events Jason was already in Gotham and he was giving Hush information to mess with the Bat, and that’s all the information I have right there.

Back again to the story, Batman wants to know how Jason came back to life and he responds that he doesn’t know and doesn’t care, but he does give blood, tissue and fingerprints to Bruce so he can do some tests in the cave to prove that it’s really him, Bruce is once again being difficult saying that it still won’t make him believe but Jason knows better and tells him so.

He also says that it doesn’t matter what he is now, what matters is what Bruce is and what Jason will become. And Jason will become the kind of man Bruce would have been had he killed the Joker.

This whole conversation is very informative; Jason tells Bruce that he knows how to help Gotham because he understands the city more than Bruce. And in order to do that he will kill the Joker and those who deserve to die. This obviously doesn’t sit well with Bruce but Jason doesn’t really care what he thinks so he creates a distraction so he can leave B alone to marinate his thoughts.

It’s here at the end of chapter seven that I am going to cut the first part of the review before too long becomes way too long, so, see you in the second part!

The second part is linked here!

[jessejostark]

The Neo-Punk Songwriter Bringing Softness To The Hard Edge

Find out how the new-wave rocker is informed by retro sensibilities.

Jesse Jo Stark may have been born and raised in California, but the new-wave rock chick currently lives between extremes. As a purely contemporary mix, she's an amalgamation of a Western folk singer with a deep-rooted punk spirit and style to boot. Think David Bowie meets Elvira. Plus, Stark's list of references is as legendary as the cultural tapestry she grew up surrounded by. Apparent in her twinkling melodies, folron imagery, and rockabilly flair, her tastes reflect multiple eras of music synthesized from a life in rock 'n' roll that started long before she ever took the stage. This is largely a result of growing up with the cult-followed brand Chrome Hearts, which her parents (Richard and Laurie Lynn Stark) founded in the '80s, giving the singer a unique introduction to showbusiness—emphasis on the business. The brand lauded by the likes of Virgil Abloh for dressing rock stars from Mötley Crüe to Travis Scott also gave Stark the blueprint for doing things on her terms. With a musical breakout that's seen the artist headlining a Los Angeles residency and opening stints for Lizzo, Jane's Addiction, Sunflower Bean, and The Vaccines, the "Tangerine" singer is gearing up for a new release and a life post-pandemic that befits her rock-star roots. Find out how this femme noir vixen found herself—and her song—in the midst of it all.

She got started at an early age

"I grew up around my family starting their business, and we traveled a lot, so I was always around so many adults. My parents were making leather pants for musicians, and I was on tour with my godmother (Cher) and I always took dance class every day. I begged my godmother for my first voice lesson—I begged her to let me use her vocal teacher, so she let me take lessons with Evelyn, and I went to the studio when I was like, seven or eight. I was so scared, and she said, 'You should just write what happened at school today,' and I'll never forget I was so excited but so nervous, and I wrote a song called 'My Heart's On Fire,' and it was about a boy and really short. I was in a band called It's Complicated with my friend, and we only covered Freaky Friday songs. She did vocals, and I remember having this feeling like I never don't want to be in the studio writing about how I feel. I just think I was really fortunate to have parents that supported me in every way, like if I wanted to play guitar or dance or play volleyball, they were always into that, and I saw hungry artists really supporting each other and starting out and collaborating, and it inspired me to be around a bunch of weirdos and it made me who I am."

Creativity was a touchstone

"I really wanted to do well in school and go to college, and I went to business school for a little bit, so I was always interested in different aspects of the company besides design. I just felt like I always wanted to perform—I always wanted to create and go to work with my dad and touch things. I made my first little bag with my friend by stapling together scraps from the leather shop, and I remember writing something out on a label maker and I think my mom still has it framed. I always thought I wasn't a good writer, and I realized I could write my own music. I always wanted to be sporty and get on teams, but then I ended up on the D team, which itself is so fucked. I just wanted to be creative." 

She learned from Chrome Hearts

"Everything my parents taught me was to be yourself, do it on your own terms, and go against the grain. They really fashioned their whole thing around doing everything organically and collaborating with people that they knew, not chasing anything, taking risks, and allowing this environment for all types of people. My mom would hate this, but it feels rebellious to me, and that's how I approach my music—I don't chase after anything because that's what I think is cool or what's gonna make me money or make me big. It's like everything is so homegrown and natural and from our heart. When we design something, it's never done fast, and one of the biggest annoying things about Chrome Hearts is it takes so long to make one thing. I've grown to appreciate that, so I've introduced it to my art, my visuals, my writing. I think that's where longevity comes in, because we do everything at our speed and I know that's a luxury, but it's something my parents taught me and it's something that works for them. We did it our own way, and I love that. My parents are my biggest inspiration and I don't even think I realized how much they affected me until the last couple of years."

It took adjusting to the pandemic

"I was in the studio finishing the album when we got cut short because of the pandemic. I was so bummed and everyone was, but from the musicians' standpoint, I remember feeling just so upset and confused. I started writing again with my guitar in quarantine, and then I got really frustrated because there were all these songs I already wrote and I wanted those to come out, but I had just started touring a lot, and every day it was like, what's the point? What does this mean? I felt really stunted creatively, and then my whole outlook changed. Even though there's so much sadness in the world, I know a lot of people felt this too, but I really got to know myself in the past year and how to take different risks internally with my music and connected more with artists that I didn't think I would want to collab with or work with and sounds I didn't know I wanted. I really got to know myself this year, and I remember clawing at the floor at times because I didn't know what to say, but I've written some of my favorite songs this past year, so I'm grateful. But I feel bad saying that because I'm not OK with anything that's happened because there's so much suffering, but to get to know yourself as an artist being stuck inside, I would have never experienced that. At first it was horrible, and still now it's like, when are we touring? I'm so ready to share everything, I get so ahead of myself, but I remember what my parents taught me and it's like, we just have to go with the fucking flow."

It's about the persistence of self

"I'm really excited about this album. I wanted it to be a little bit more modern—it's new for me, but it's still me, and creatively, I feel like I'm just really going back to what I love, which is chill punk. I have so many ideas, it's just about finding the right people and introducing them energetically to me, and like this new video, we're going out in a simple way, and I think it's about just connecting with my audience and it doesn't have to be all about the glitz and the glamour. I'm never creatively blocked. It happens for 24 hours or so, but I'm full of ideas—I'm totally ready to tour. I want to make a video for each song, I'm ready. It's still just me and it's still the same shit."

She loves the process just as much

"It's hard to write a song, be vulnerable and sit down and know what you want to say. It sounds simple, but if I try to have the same experience as the day before, it never works out. It's like trying to have the same two days at Disneyland, so I don't set expectations on myself, and I might even write here in the parking lot. For me, when the pressure is off, that's when I'm most creative, so it's never the same. Also, when I'm in the studio every day with no breaks, that's when I end up writing another album. In the studio and recording one thing, but you end up writing a whole 'nother album, so that's kind of what happens with me."

New music is coming

"I've been wanting to release new music for a while, and finally, it's time. It's coming out soon, and it's kind of like my birthday present to me. It's funkier than some of my other songs, and I'm really excited for people to hear it. I wanted to introduce little things that inspire me and make me feel like I'm in a good place."

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Saturday 8 March 1834: SH:7/ML/E/16/0177

6 10

12 40

Fair and windy – rain in the night – F52° at 6 40 – out at 7 ¼ - with Pickles - his son John and a labourer to wall up gaps and make other and set posts for John Bottomley and P- himself to raise wall near new dry bridge so as to support a great height of stuff - with John Booth taken him (P-) 2 loads of stones - Charles and James H- putting up more wainscot in upper buttery -breakfast with my father at 8 ½ in about ½ hour -in my study at 9 ¾ - rain came on about 8 ½ or before   likely to continue - till 11 ½ wrote 1 page and 4 lines to Miss W- and copied what I would advise her to write in answer to Washington - then out with John moving large cherry[?] from the terrace to near new dry bridge and moving rose tree and flowers to outside upper garden door etc ready for beginning to lower the terrace on Monday - Pickels went away in the morning on account of the rain but returned at 2 ½ pm  with him raising wall near new dry bridge to hold up stuff from the new bank (just below Bottomleys the shoemaker) and backwards and forwards with Charles and James H- in the upper buttery and with Mallinson and his 1 man who got the middle cornice of the chimney this afternoon, and opened hole thro’ wall on to the terrace for barrowing out  the stuff - agreed with Pickels to wheel it out to the carts in the court yard, and thence cart it to near the old dry bridge for 8d per square yard - he asks Mr. Haigh 15d a yard (ie about 7d per 1 horse cart load) for carting stuff from the new bank (to put it here near new dry bridge) - came in at 6 ½ - settled with Pickels and Charles H- dinner at 7 and coffee and came upstairs at 7 40 - wrote 3 pages more and ½ p. envelope and finished my letter to ‘Miss Walker Heworth Grange, York’ and sent it off at 9 ½ by Thomas in a parcel with Washington’s letter and n°2 Paxton’s magazine the small parcel for Mrs. Sutherland to go by tonights’ mail - should have sent W-‘s letter etc yesterday but waited to hear from Miss W- this morning - much disappointed - strongly  urge her to determine about and give Washington orders to let Lidgate - should always determine as soon as one can, and then the sooner the determination is acted on, the better - a great comfort  and advantage to us to have things settled as soon as possible so that our intentions should be clear to all whom they concerned – our position too equivocal - then dated 2nd page this evening– saying it was well to make an excuse of Lidgate but the truth was, I could scarcely believe it  was not a week since my return and it seemed an age since Monday and not hearing from her made me dull - Did she wish me to think less of her? She might scold and I should take it patiently – then took up Miss W-‘s letter  could not be much trouble to alter the Town’s books – she could not be expected to understand land-valuing, therefore it was W-‘s place to offer her a fair rent for the Hemingway crofts (5 ½ acres exclusive of plantations and paying £2.16.0. pounds taxes per annum l say .:. taxes = from 6/ to 7/ per day work) unless he hoped to have them as the same sort of terms as the Lidgate land – but advised her to write briefly to him on the subject merely  saying she had made up her mind not to pay the taxes and, as he put it to her to value the crofts she should have them and Cordingley’s farm valued at my same time and write by post to Mr Mitchell to let he have his valuation as soon as he could and then she would settle what allowance  should be made to Cordingley and fix a rent for the crofts as W- valued for himself and his brother in law  he ought to be glad to call in an indifferent person - would she write something like the following  ‘Miss Walker will be much obliged to Mr. Mitchell to send her, as soon as he possibly can, his valuation of the yearly rent of the land or the enclosed plan, specifying the condition of each field, the tenant to pay all taxes - Mr. Mitchell is requested to direct Miss Walker Heworth Grange, York.’ She could easily sketch the plan, giving numeros and measurements as stated in W-‘s survey - Perhaps W- would be surprised - not to give her the credit she deserved but lay it all on me – she had plenty of head, only wanted promptness of decision .........  ‘Heaven prosper you in everything! Doubt anything but the real regard of yours faithfully and affectionately AL.’ Will send the dimensions of the north parlour fireplace next time -  With my aunt from 9 ½ about an hour - then wrote the whole of this page till 11 – very boisterous  windy night –

SH:7/ML/E/16/0178

11 20 before Thomas got back – could hardly get to Halifax for the wind  - was an hour in going - brought back my packet of letters to Mr. Brown, Copenhagen under cover to HD. Scott Esquire Foreign office London (vid. Sunday 16 February) - there being written on the bank ‘Refused.....’ cannot make out the name - and enclosed in the following printed letter from the dead letter Office -‘General Post office 7 March 1834 Sir the enclosed letter not having been delivered for the reason assigned there on, was opened here by the officer appointed by his majesty’s Postmaster general for that purpose, and is now returned to you, as the writer, on payment of the postage I am sir, your obedient humble servant Francis Freeling, secretary’!!!! postage 3/8  So much for Mr. Brown’s offer of my writing thro’ him saying in reply to my scruples that it was merely a perquisite of office to be allowed to oblige friends in this way -  Letter 3 pages and 2 ¼ pages crossed from Miss Walker Heworth Grange – much pleased with the bonnet - should not want another  ‘you quite astonish me with your expedition in the execution of all my wants and wishes’ - ....... ‘I am thinking about Lidgate, and will say more when I write next query will it be wise to irritate or brave public opinion further just now? For the same reason, ought or can I accept your kind position about Shibden?’ Her usual indecision  does she mean to make a fool of me after all   she would not have me paint the carriage nor do more at Shibden than necessary  gave me that is bought for six pence and put on again my ring languidly and now declines taking the straight course of shewing our union  or at least compact to the world  should I ask her to do what she could not or ought not? Public opinion has been too much or too little braved and whatever force there is against her coming here is the same against my going there  I don’t like all this I distrust her and feel as if the thing would again and this time forever  go off between us   I shall not be played with let her come here before I go there again but I am on my guard and she may find this won’t do   My letters and feelings have been more affectionate than she deserved –she concludes with you will perceive I have practised what I preached  that is not to write anything particular I will take the hint. ‘I long for the sketch of the chimney piece  but don’t pay the carriage - why did you do it of the box? I suspect the affront was Thomas’s, not yours. Affront! Does this seem as if she really thought us united in heart and purse? Delighted to hear my aunt is a little better ‘not selfishly so for my own wish is that you should never take any distant journey so long as she lives, kind as she is and considerate in desiring it – there are plenty of  places nearer home unseen and which would be disgraceful not to visit’. This would be well enough if I did not shrewdly suspect she wishes to avoid going abroad or doing anything that would too decidedly bespeak our compact. What will she think of my letter of last night So affectionate and straightforward  perhaps it is lucky it went  and it would not have gone had I received hers first I shall not write till I have heard from her again  let us see how she can shuffle off  it has often struck me she wanted to make a cat’s paw of me to get into society  no harm done yet take care of my own concerns   my aunt’s death will try the thing and perhaps after all I shall be off at tangent  I will be cautious what I do in the meantime even in venturing to the plenty of places nearer home unseen  Miss Rawson says her mind is little and much in her money shall I find her right?   ‘only think of the time when you can come again to see the onyx (the ring I gave her) and ever believe me with love to your aunt kind regards to your father and sister  yours faithfully and affectionately, AW.’   she little thinks how much she has annoyed me but no more of her just now. Rainy day from between 8 and 9 and till 1 & 2 pm afterwards fine - but very boisterous  windy night.

[darkestwolfx]

Afternoon Tea

Wolfie intended to post this last night and she fell asleep. Really sorry, Tsari! This week might be a more successful writing week though as I don’t have as many calls scheduled in, meaning I can stay in my own time zone a bit more. Hooray!

Anyhow, I won’t babble too much, I’ll just jump into the long-awaited and deserved fic (and yes, Tsari, there are still more after this so don’t panic)!

So, more wishes to grant, and here was the next on the list. This is something nice and friendshippy between Ned and John? Bonus points for including Gladys and EOS for @tsarinatorment as part of @gumnut-logic‘s #irrelief2020. And I suppose it kind of covers a bit of Parker babysitting for you as well.

For a reference, imagine this is set after 'A Seed Once Sown'. You don't have to read that to understand this, but basically, John gets Ned a new job as the Tracy Family's gardener, so you're all caught up now. Also, I've only given this the one, quick proof read due to time constraints, so any mistakes are my own, sorry!

Summary: A not so normal family couldn't be expected to have strictly normal friends. So what if they were pot plants and AI's? Scott swears it's all something of a dream, he's overtired as it. But did someone say cake?

Word count: Just under 6000, I think, maybe 5800-ish?

----------

Scott honestly couldn't remember what he was meant to be asking John anymore. Alan and Gordon were planning something, that much he could tell, and they'd needed to know something which Scott's brotherly knowledge didn't extend to. He might be the eldest, but that didn't mean he had a decent understanding of physics. That, was John's area, as he had remembered pointing out, to which Alan and Gordon promptly stated;

"We tried!"

"We can't get a hold of him to ask him."

"So we thought we'd ask you."

Scott remembered trying not to be offended.

"But you knew I wouldn't know that."

"We thought that was likely."

"But asking was worthwhile."

Scott had shaken his head, not really sure how to deal with the troublesome pair when their energy levels were at a full on sugar high, the day off running through their bloodstream like an additional stimulant, and honestly Scott just wanted to rest, have a moment of peace and quiet. As it was, they were heading towards Gordon and Alan finishing each other's sentences by the end of the day whilst they created chaos.

The chaos would be created anyway. There was a sparkle in brown and blue eyes, one that Scott knew all too well-meant trouble – maybe another minor explosion, great. John wouldn't be able to stop them. The plan was clearly laid, but if they wanted to ask John something, Scott figured it was probably worth trying to follow the query through. It might reduce the chances of something exploding, after all.

"What makes you think I'll be able to get hold of him?"

"He always answers you."

"Yeah."

Scott didn't think that was strictly true, but he couldn't be bothered to argue, so he went with it.

And that was how he ended up here. Here being sitting on the sofa in the lounge, listening to Gordon and Alan's master-planning floating in from the sunny poolside, wishing maybe he could be out there napping (or was that dangerous with the terrible two around?) whilst waiting for John to answer.

For the third time.

So, no John didn't always answer him.

Scott was prepared to go out and tell his youngest brothers that, no, he wasn't successful either, stuff it all and go back to bed, but… those same eldest brother instincts were niggling. They'd been given life after the blonde pair told him John hadn't answered, and they'd been nibbling freely at his youth ever since his first call went unanswered.

One more call. He told himself. He would try once more. Then he would tell the troublemakers there was no success, risk of explosion and all, and try to go back to bed. He was tired. He hated days off; that first day of quiet, of nothing, it made him feel far more tired than any stream of rescues did.

It was the stopping, he supposed.

He had time to 'suppose' on the subject whilst he waited for the call to connect.

And waited.

And realised he must be getting even more grey hairs at this rate.

The call didn't connect.

The nibbling turned to biting.

EOS wouldn't. Scott knew that now. He'd spent far too much time seeing her for who she really was, witnessing the lengths she would go to for John (and them), and many hours speaking with her. Prattling, as Virgil would probably say.

EOS wouldn't, but that didn't mean the vast world of Space would be as kind. He got up, giving in, and heading for the desk.

Thunderbird Five was still there. The scans weren't showing any alerts or damage and there wasn't any maintenance on the scheduling list and Brains was still here, wasn't he?

"Hey Scott."

"Nothing, blast."

"Uhh… ok?"

He pulled his head up. Virgil was standing on the opposite side of the lounge, looking very miffed. Probably debating whether he should admit his brother to an institution. Virgil hadn't thought quite that drastically, although he had been deliberating how badly Scott would shout at him if he called Grandma up to look over the eldest.

"I didn't see you there."

"You didn't hear me either, clearly."

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"Hey Scott."

"Right."

"What's taken your attention? Grey Hairs?"

"Hey!"

It was meant to sound more commanding than that, but it was bit half hearted really. The biting was rather violently taking chunks out of his bloodstream. Or it felt like it.

Virgil just nodded.

"Something serious then."

"Yeah. Brains is still here, isn't he?"

"Where else would he be?" Virgil seemed quite confused.

"I can't get hold of John. I thought maybe something had come up?"

"No, Brains is still building his to scale model of that thing from Atlantis."

"Right. So where's John?"

Virgil, laughed.

"Grey hairs indeed."

"What?"

"John's fine. EOS left me a virtual note. Some new answer machine type thing, she and John have tried to install. They're having afternoon tea with the Queen."

"He's what?"

"Yeah, I spoke to him earlier, well to EOS, briefly. John was greeting their guest apparently. But they are both fine, save yourself another grey hair."

With that, Virgil was heading out into the sunshine, risking whatever Gordon and Alan had up their sleeves. The chatter started up, but Scott was only half-listening. He was still mulling over what Virgil had said. John was ok, that was good enough for him to cease worrying – well, sort of, the biting was slowing back down to simple annoying nibbling; present, but not all encompassing anymore.

No, Scott was actually focusing on the part about afternoon tea with the Queen. He could hardly believe that Lady Penelope had managed to get John down to Earth again. The secrecy part, the not being told, that he could believe. Still- hold on.

The metaphor of holding horses went straight through Scott's mind as he pulled his head up like one might tug fiercely on the reins.

Virgil had spoken to EOS. EOS who never left the safe confines of Thunderbird Five unless strictly necessary. Furthermore, Virgil had said John was greeting their guest… oh. The Queen had gone to Thunderbird Five?

Carefully, Scott reached out to pinch the skin of his arm. He would have asked someone else to do it, but never again were his brother's going anywhere near him with pincers poised.

Still, he maybe didn't need to pinch himself quite as hard as he did.

"Ow!"

"You alright Scott?" Virgil called in.

"Yeah! Fine! Stubbed my… toe."

"Found grey hairs more like it." He heard Gordon mumble, and there was probably some agreement from Alan there as well, but he switched his hearing loop for the pair off. He'd had quite enough of that.

Point was though, he wasn't dreaming. Because this could have all been an elaborate dream out of tiredness.

Scott was trying to work out how to get his answers…. Maybe Grandma would know? When suddenly, a call came through.

It was Thunderbird Five. It was John.

"Scott?"

"There you are!"

He tried not to seem too relived. Although the niggling finally died a death.

"Sorry, um- Can you, thanks." There was a strange shuffling and passing of… was that a teacup? Scott momentarily wondered if he'd fallen through a rabbit whole like Alice and made his way into Wonderland. Wasn't that story all about drugs though? Or magic mushrooms or something? Maybe he hadn't then… Maybe he was going mad. "Did you need something?"

"Gordon and Alan wanted something. Nothing desperate. Uh… I can't even remember."

"They're not trying to make improvised explosives again, are they?"

"I honestly didn't ask."

Scott never asked anymore, not after all the trouble with shaken up and exploding bottles of Cola. Grandma had gone berserk, and it was easier to claim innocence if you knew nothing. Also, if it was all a prank, intended for him, he'd almost rather not know what was coming. He just kept an eye on the pair of them, and never let them do the supply run together ever again. Even if that meant owing Virgil a bloody ton for constantly going, dutifully with Grandma.

"Probably unwise."

Scott shrugged.

"I can talk to them, quickly, if they're around?"

"They by the pool. I wouldn't worry, not if you're busy. Virgil… Virgil said something about the Queen?"

"I haven't heard anything. I can check the news if you want? Hold on. No, EOS, Battenburg is the pink and yellow one. Well, Scott?"

"Well…?"

The eldest was still trying to put everything together. Was Virgil playing a practical joke on him? John didn't seem to know anything about the Queen. And had he heard cake mentioned? Maybe he really was losing it.

"There's no reports of anything to do with the Queen. I could ask Lady Penelope if she knows anything?"

"Right, um, are you-

"John-"

"EOS, jam tarts are red."

"What?"

"Sorry Scott, you were saying?"

Scott honestly didn't know what he was trying to say right about now.

And of course, that moment of his great confusion was when his brothers reappeared, Virgil shouting at Gordon that once his new tin of paint arrived, the fish would be doing naught but fixing Thunderbird Two.

Scott realised he'd obviously missed something there too.

"Oh look it's John."

"Is that tea?"

"John's having tea with the Queen." Virgil reminded.

"Oh, really?"

"And we weren't invited."

Scott didn't notice that John too had frowned here, about to say something before he was beaten to it.

"He's not having tea with the Queen!"

"Um… okay?" Virgil began, once again a little unsure. John was blinking in confusion, looking back to EOS as though she held the answers, and if the AI could have shrugged, she would have. "Are you doing okay, Scott?"

"I'm so confused!"

"Right," John began, clearing his throat, "Let me try and clear the problem here."

Scott was more than pleased to let him. That is, after all, what his brother did best.

"Go for it. Who the hell are you having tea with?"

---------

Ned was experienced in many things. He'd worked in space; under the sea; with one of the biggest defense organisations known to the world and with a selection of important vaults. He'd faced death at the tendrils of the sun; at the ends of the perilous deep ocean's grip; at the hands of an irate Colonel; some Mechanical guy; and a poisonous gas.

He was experienced in many things, and Gladys had been by his side for them all, but he was only truly experienced in one thing.

Gardening.

Well, maybe two: he was pretty good at making tea.

Oh, make it three: he was a very good baker, if he didn't say so himself.

Thanks to those Tracy boys, Ned had realised where he belonged. He always should have stuck with gardening. Gladys liked gardening too.

His business was flying by now. He had quite the clientele on his list and brilliant references from International Rescue to get his foot in any door. It was all rather surprising, how all of this had come out of one offer to become a gardener to a family in need.

It had been a while since he'd seen any of the Tracy boys, but today was different.

Space looked different when you weren't going up there to work, or with limited interest. He was keenly awaiting sight of the one Thunderbird he'd yet to properly see.

He'd spent a lot of time baking and he hoped he'd made enough. He had four hold-all's full, but he'd seen the appetite on that family.

Although, then again, he was only meeting one man and a machine.

Speaking of, the space station swung into his view, looking like it belonged in the vast floatiness.

"Here we are, Gladys! Thunderbird Five!"

And he'd been waiting a very long time for this.

---------

John had been a little more than surprised when Ned asked if he could come to Thunderbird Five. They'd had the date on the calendar for a while now. Ned may have his own business, but he still maintained the Tracy Island gardens, and John had been in contact with the man ever since he left the safe haven of the island. Ned had kept himself miraculously out of trouble since, actually.

So no, John wasn't surprised by their meeting, but definitely by the choice of location. He'd assumed Ned wouldn't want to step foot in space again after the asteroid mine and the iridium vault. But, Ned wanted to see Thunderbird Five, and (maybe most surprisingly of all) EOS, again. Apparently, Gladys missed having a friend.

John had thought that a little silly at first. Because a non-sentient pot plant couldn't possibly miss what it didn't have, but then EOS had made a gleeful point about having missed her potty pink companion and John honestly wondered if it was possible for plants to have sentience. They did have life, after all. Ned certainly seemed to believe there was more to them, what with this great love for all things garden.

He'd agreed. Because, after all, it did save him from ending up at some coffee shop of choice with gravity down on Earth. He much preferred staying here anyhow.

He'd had EOS leave a message for his brothers, so they knew he was there, but not readily available for any great scheme that was being concocted in the absence of work. They'd been working on a new program recently, so that people could leave International Rescue messages, in case of busy times, or if they ever needed to go 'out of office' again so to speak. John was sure it was fine, so he'd left the job of leaving the first ever message with EOS, in the hope that the holo-communication system would display it.

And if not, Virgil would know he was alive. They'd been chatting for a bit whilst Virgil had him place an order for some new paint for Thunderbird Two. Alan or Gordon – John didn't know who and he didn't want to know – had scratched Thunderbird Two on the last outing. Again.

And so the day had come, and Ned arrived. John had offered him to come via Tracy Island and the Space Elevator, but Ned had proclaimed he wanted to surprise his brothers, and besides, had already booked himself and Gladys onto a nice little connecting flight via the newly rebuilt Space Hub One. John had merely smiled and let the man go about his odd ways, although he had asked that Ned say hello to a Chief Controller Conrad for him. He'd been more than happy to pick Ned up from the Space Hub, but Conrad had sent someone to him instead.

So he and EOS hadn't moved a muscle in waiting for their guest until EOS registered that it was time to open the airlock.

John had expected Ned and Gladys. He hadn't expected the boxes.

"Hello!"

"Ned. Nice to see you again. And Gladys."

"It's very nice to be here. Gladys is very excited."

"Yes, well, what's all this?"

"We're having afternoon tea."

"Yes, but-"

"Well, I took to presuming you might not keep tea on a space station."

"Um, no I don't as it happens."

"Good! Because I've brought my best china. Here you go."

And before John really knew what was going on, he was carrying two boxes whilst Ned carried the last and Gladys, making his way into Thunderbird Five by following EOS along her track. He was commenting on everything, saving nothing for later, musing over why it was all so white, and whether he needed it painted because Ned could do painting (apparently), and complimenting the nice little colours on the windows.

John didn't even bother to remind him they weren't really windows or correct him on any amount of stuff. The man was harmless and simple. Everything someone from International Rescue, like himself, needed the odd dose of.

They'd chattered aimlessly whilst Ned brewed tea and set multiple sweet treats onto plates. EOS was eyeing them all, jealously, not really even knowing what they were or what they tasted like, but John did. And he could see multiple traditional favourites. And he liked what he saw. EOS was googling them. Again. Honestly, he'd told her google was rubbish. It would only be a matter of time before something came out of that.

But when the tea was brewed to Ned's satisfaction, they sat themselves – as best as you can in space – with their pristine china teacups, all white with pink edging. They were obviously kept for best, just as Ned had said.

EOS was hovering by his shoulder, and Ned has rested Gladys by his side, with multiple plates surrounding the pot. If John was anyone else, besides John Tracy son of Jeff Tracy and member of International Rescue, he honestly would have been baffled at the sight of two men, an AI and a plant pot, sharing tea with cake and biscuits. Oh, not forgetting the whole in space part.

The picture would have made quite the post card.

Lady Penelope would have loved it. As proof he was socialising.

"So how's business, Ned?"

"Oh no complaints here. I do a good trade in Petunias."

"Really?"

"Oh yes, fly off the imaginary shelves they do! Because I keep them in the ground, get it?"

"Yes, I got that."

"Course you did. You're the smart one. That's what Gladys and I think."

"That's very kind of you."

"John?" EOS butted in, well sort of. It was an open conversation, and Ned had come to see her just as much as he'd come to see him, John reminded himself. He'd even gone so far as to offer her a biscuit. John had resisted the urge to face palm. It wasn't polite afternoon tea manners, he remembered. Besides, EOS had laughed, clearly finding it quite entertaining before asking Ned for a description of what said biscuit tasted like – so she could learn. Which had then led them to a rather interesting commentary on the flavours of different biscuits, Ned describing to EOS precisely why Highland Shortbread was different to Shortbread Snaps. John munched thoughtfully on a piece of each, realising he'd never noticed the distinct sugary difference before. Or rather, if he ever had known it, he'd forgotten all about it.

That was exactly what he meant: about the grandeur of International Rescue overpowering the littlest of things. Ned was a reminder.

"Yes EOS?"

"Can we have a garden?"

"I don't know if it would last, EOS."

"Oh… but it would be lovely to have bright plants around us!"

John could actually kind of imagine it. And he wasn't sure if was a good idea or not.

"I suppose, but-"

"Oh, it wouldn't be any trouble to do!"

"I'm not a gardener though, Ned."

And even if he was, he didn't know if he could achieve the growing and successful life of plants in space.

"I can do it! Bring some hardy plants up, find a place for them. We could do that, couldn't we, Gladys?"

A moment of silence whilst they waited dutifully the amount of time it would take for the plant to give an imaginary 'yes'.

It was the only thing John still wasn't quite used to.

"Well, I suppose we could always try it."

It was more to placate his company than because he thought it was a good idea. Only time would tell. And at least he could say he'd tried.

"Hooray!" EOS was definitely like a child still. "I wonder if they'll grow as big as the ones I saw on Earth?"

"They were growth serum induced EOS."

And that he was definitely not heaving up here.

"And I seem to remember having a fever."

John was honesty trying to discount that entire plant mad day from his memory banks still.

"Oh, and I've been meaning to say- Jam tart?"

"Thank you."

"-Thanks for letting me do all the gardening. On the Island."

"Oh, no thank you, Ned! I think Grandma was about to drive us all stir crazy. Either that, or Gordon might have tried to use the lawn mower again."

"Oh?" Ned asked around a mouthful of jam and pastry. "Not the Squid's thing?"

"He nearly cut his fingers off the last time."

"How'd he nearly do that? Any decent lawn mower has a cut-off switch." Hmm, of course. Gardening was Ned's comfort zone, you could hear that, just as space and communications were his.

"And any decent person using a lawn mower doesn't usually try running with it to get it done sooner."

"Ah, rushes, I see. I thought that was more the Hot-Shot Kid?"

"No. Alan's actually tempered. Scott rushes."

"That's your big brother?" Ned had spent enough time around them all to know them, but it had been a while, and (as John had learnt) Ned tended to go by his nicknames for them, as opposed to their given names.

"The one and only."

"The one I threw Iridium at?"

"Yeah… maybe don't bring that up. Scott's still a little bitter."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean it."

"Oh, no. He knows that, Ned. It's not about the fact you threw it at him- well, sort of, more the fact the have better aim that him."

"Oh! It's nice to know I can do something."

"Speaking of, when could you next visit the Island? Grandma's been on about some kind of trellis? And Virgil is really interested in Topiary. He's trying to keep that a secret, but umm... he still forgets EOS can still read their search history."

'Forget' might be exaggeration of the truth. Gordon had found out after EOS had told John something she'd found without actually telling him how she knew. Alright, you could argue that John should have asked, but he hadn't. When he'd then mentioned it, Gordon had brightly put two and two together. John had promised to make EOS stop. But she didn't and John didn't actually mind. It had given him a great idea for what to get Alan for his 21st.

"I am very good at that now, John. Undetectable."

Ned chuckled. "Is there anything she isn't good at?"

"Probably not."

"I have multiple functions. I am a rescue assistant, a de-bugger, a computer hacker-"

"Ok, EOS, that's probably enough."

"Oi, you plotting to take over the world or something?"

"If I was Ned, I'd let you know. We'd need a few more flowers to brighten everything up out there."

"Oh, we could do that." Ned actually sounded quite excited at the prospect of being part of a world domination plan. "Couldn't we Gladys?"

Another imaginary 'yes' pause. Well, that time John actually thought he heard something. He briefly shook his head at EOS who gave a little flicker of mischievous purple. Great. She was working on a voice program for a pot plant. The world didn't need him gaining an army of talking plants. And he probably shouldn't think of that. EOS had a strange way now of working out what he was thinking.

"Biscuit?"

Ned offered another plate his way.

As if John would say no. For once, this was good homemade stuff, nothing like what Grandma conjured. It was a shame their Granddad's grand cooking abilities never rubbed off – and that the man was a little too shy to tell his wife she couldn't bloody cook.

This, was actually quite a good way to spend an afternoon. It was like having a butler. A little like Parker. Hmm. John loved his own space, but maybe that wasn't too bad an idea. And EOS would have Gladys for company. Gladys who she could give voice too. Yes, maybe that was an idea worth entertaining. He'd make sure to put it on their discussion list for later.

After a bit of looking at the calendar – which for them of course, could mean nothing in a second's notice – plans had been made, back-up plans had been made, and a final resort back-up was steadily waiting in the wings. Just in case the world decided to fall into utter chaos on all the prior days. John was nothing if not prepared for most – if not all – scenarios.

And with all this sorted, they moved on their discussion.

"So what's been happening with International Rescue whilst I've been away doing me worldwide gardening?"

"We've had a pretty run of the mill time of it. Minor volcano incident, hurricane, little rockfall - did more damage to property than people. Oh, we did go to The Mechanic's new Zero-X2 launch."

"Oh the scary bad-turned-good guy that took me into space in the vault?"

"Yes."

Ned nodded, like that whole trip had been washed through the crystal blue waters under the bridges of forgiveness.

"How was it?"

"Absolute success. Brains was ranting for days."

"Good that, isn't it, Gladys?"

It was at this point that Ned lifted Gladys from her comfy place of residence to take hold of her once more.

John couldn't comprehend how he hadn't noticed it; well of course he could, there had been EOS, and Ned, and Gladys, and cups of tea and Battenbergs, with biscuits and jam tarts – all homemade – and it had been a little like the days they'd spent at Lady Penelope's as children under Parker's supervision. Parker had claimed to not be very good with children and to have absolutely no experience whatsoever. John smiled wryly at that. Yeah right. Give children sweet treats and they will bend to your instructions. Not to mention that all the while they sat on the comfy sofas - munching and trying not to leave crumbs – Parker would be demonstrating his excellent array of 'magic' tricks. It was only when Gordon asked for a go that Scott had realised what Parker had actually been meaning to teach them.

Anyhow, Gladys had been resting on a communication switch. Ned noticed this too as he clutched the pot close to him. He stil expected to be shouted at, like his days back in the GDF, or admonished by his employers, like his days back in Hydrexler, or left stranded and alone, like his days back asteroid mining. He was human. John could recognise. If he was completely honest, that was more his reasoning for proposing to Colonel Casey an offer he knew Ned would never refuse; that, more than the fact getting a gardener would save them and appease Grandma.

Of all the people they'd rescued, Ned had grown on him. No puns intended.

"Oh… Sorry?"

"It's fine, Ned. If it was anything serious Thunderbird Three would be outside."

John may have turned his back, but he could tell Ned was looking desperately around outside for any sight of the Thunderbirds. Ned had had a rare opportunity to see them all now, and yet still gazed upon like he'd never seen sight of them.

John could understand that.

Scott appeared before him, looking like he was trying to hide his great relief.

John hid a smile.

And tried to appease his brother's worry at the same time as Ned offering him another cup of absolutely fantastic tea.

Obscuring a teacup on holo-communications wasn't easy.

But he was going to damn well try his best.

He knew what would happen if his brother's caught sight of edible food.

---------

"I did leave a message."

"And I got it." Explained Virgil, sitting down comfortably on the sofa. "It said you were having afternoon tea with the queen."

"Umm… no." John replied. "That's not what is should have said. EOS?"

"I sent what you told me too, John."

"I never the Queen, EOS."

"But Gladys likes to think of herself as a Queen of the Geranium's."

"Too right she is!" Ned exclaimed, merrily, still holding Gladys in his grasp.

For a moment, there was absolute silence from the island.

Scott no longer knew whether he was dreaming, in the middle of a nightmare, or maybe I he had been slipped the odd set of drugs.

There, sharing the holo-screen with John, was Ned Tedford and Gladys.

"You're having afternoon tea with Ned and Gladys?" Gordon exclaimed.

"Yeah." John answered, like it was a normality. "Ned wanted to see Thunderbird Five."

"I really like it. Especially the floaty floatiness."

"John, I still cannot find that word in the dictionary."

"It doesn't matter EOS."

Alan was just a mess of chuckles. In fact, Scott was surprised there was anything left of him save the sound.

And of course, it was – as things usually were for the Tracy's – at this moment that Ned raised a plate full of neatly sliced cake. John would have liked to have finished the explanations first, and kept the whole Ned being here thing a secret. Especially as they'd been planning a great surprise for Virgil's birthday. John still vowed to make up for the one which the middle child essentially 'missed' which he still felt a little at fault for. This would top that ruined surprise in seconds. As it was, John had learnt that Ned was good at keeping secrets, so there wouldn't be any worries there. The problem was how to deal with now.

Now being the very obvious sight of cake.

The harm was already done, so John reached out a took a piece.

"Thank you."

"Oh, you're welcome."

"What?" Alan bellowed, narrowly avoiding taking Scott's ears clean off, "You have cake?"

"Homemade and all." Ned added, somehow managing to balance a numerous amount of plates in his grasp, with one balancing on Gladys as well. EOS' little lights brightened, and John sighed at her forming even more grand ideas. Gladys was not proving the greatest of influences on his AI, and John felt an understanding for the struggles of their father when the boys went out into the world, forming their own friendships.

Eyes were glimmering back at them.

"You-"

"Have-"

"Cake!"

John wasn't sure what happened first really. In seconds, Virgil, Gordon and Alan were on their feet.

"Hello Ned!" Gordon waved.

"We're on our way up."

Alan was rushing around like a mad thing.

"To Thunderbird Three!"

"You mean to the cake!" Gordon insisted, following the youngest at a speed that rivalled a sports car.

"Scott, are you coming with?"

Virgil was waiting, looking at the brunette expectantly.

Scott wanted to say no. He wanted to go bad to bed and sleep, because clearly he needed it. His head still wasn't entirely wrapped around the fact that EOS could apparently talk to Gladys and that the pot plant liked to be thought of as a Queen, nor why Ned was waving at them from Thunderbird Five whilst pouring cups of tea and sharing biscuits with John like he'd lived up there for years now. He was entirely lost as to where the real Queen fitted in, he'd honestly forgotten his true reason for even trying to call John – which got him involved in all this madness in the first place, and everyone rushing around and shouting was doing nothing for his head.

But there was cake. Homemade cake, that – most importantly – didn't look like it would poison them.

John couldn't really eat it all. They were only looking out for his health by going up there to help finish it, Scott supposed.

Some second wind had him off his feet in seconds.

"See you in a bit, John."

Virgil gave a little cheer and some kind of funny-step-dance that wasn't really a dance, which John desperately hoped EOS had been recording. She recorded everything on the Island now. Even Gordon's singing the in the shower. John had questioned why, slightly unsure as to whether it was even a good idea to be doing so, only for EOS to play him a section – audio only, thank whatever God there was. Gordon was surprisingly good. No, not good actually. Pretty good. Now one could hold a tune quite like Virgil could, but John was surprised to find that Gordon had a talent he wasn't boasting about. He'd asked – slightly more wisely – why EOS was even keeping that. Her pointed answer was exactly what he should have expected. Blackmail material. John had wondered then if he should have let EOS get her claws on the World Wide Web. She edited Wikipedia enough as it was.

Still, as his brothers left his sights, heading to warm up Thunderbird Three, John waved a hand to EOS who closed the link. He rolled his eyes as he turned back to Ned. It wouldn't be long before his brothers joined them, shattering the peace and quiet of Thunderbird Five, stomping rudely over proper afternoon tea. John sometimes wondered how Lady Penelope put up with Gordon making all the mess he did when he stayed in London. Parker. That one was obvious. The man spent more time running around Gordon to keep everything in order than he did shadowing Lady Penelope for her own safety.

Their quiet afternoon was dead in the water. A very new one was about to begin.

"Sorry Ned. It will get noisy now, and busy, and… crazy."

He wasn't going to hold back. Ned knew them well enough after all.

"Oh that's alright. Gladys and I wondered if we might be seeing everyone, so I've bought plenty of everything. A gardener is always prepared!"

Far more prepared it seemed than the man had been in any other job.

John glanced over towards the two unopened boxes. If they contained anything like the feat that was currently placed before them, they would be absolutely fine. Ned was finally right where he was meant to be.

And John supposed he should have asked why Ned had bought a full set of teacups.

Always prepared, those gardening types.

[writingquestionsanswered]

What to feel when a friend with who you shared your writing rewrites what you sent in their style, as if fixing what's wrong with your writing, and then send it back to you like that saying you can replace your writing with theirs? I feel like someone slapped me backhanded and lost all my motivation. It felt like they were showing how much better they are, how much I suck, and I don't know what to do. I would have preferred an outright critic that at least told me more than all my writing is bad

Guide: Negative Feedback

I’m going to answer your question, but I want to take this opportunity to do a little guide on negative feedback and what to do with it.

Negative Feedback Doesn’t Mean Your Writing is Bad

I want to start here, because this is a common misconception among newer writers–that only positive feedback is good and negative feedback means you’ve failed, and that’s just simply not true. Negative feedback is an important part of the feedback process. In fact, it’s the most important part of the feedback process, because while it’s nice to hear that your description is good and your characters are strong, you can’t do anything with that. You can’t make your story better with that feedback, and that’s the whole point of seeking feedback in the first place–to learn what people like and don’t like so you can make your story better.

Even the Best Authors Get Negative Feedback

There’s no such thing as a story that everyone loves. It’s not possible to please everyone. So even the best, most highly acclaimed authors receive negative feedback. These are actual snippets of one-star reviews on Amazon:

Emma by Jane Austen

“I don’t like Jane’s writing.”

“This story was quite boring to me.”

“There was no plot.”

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

“It’s an awful and depressing story with no redeeming qualities.”

“Why is this a classic?”

“Waste of time. Predictable and boring.”

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by J.K. Rowling

“This is a tedious and repetitive read.”“Simple, silly story with forgettable characters.”“Doesn’t even deserve one star.”

So, Don’t Take Negative Feedback to Heart

Any type of feedback is just one person’s opinion, and just because they have that opinion doesn’t mean they’re right. And opinion can be affected by everything from personal tastes and experiences, to personality and mood. That’s why it’s so important not to take it personally or let it destroy your motivation.

What to Discard and What to Take Seriously

First and foremost, the weight of any bit of feedback should depend on how many people you’re getting feedback from. If you only have two people giving you feedback and one person tells you, “the main character is annoying,” that’s 50% of your audience at that point. Which is why it’s super helpful to get feedback from as many people as possible. But, also, if you have at total of ten beta readers and three people think your main character is boring, that’s only 30%, so you probably don’t need to worry about it too much. The majority didn’t seem to have that problem. I personally tend to disregard any feedback not shared by at least 30% of the people giving me feedback.

And, just because one person says, “I think your protagonist is an unlikable jerk,” doesn’t mean anyone else would feel that way. Again, that’s why it’s important to weigh that opinion against what others say. If most of your other readers seemed to like the protagonist, you probably don’t need to worry.

When multiple people have the same complaint, however, it’s definitely worth taking seriously and finding a way to fix the issue.

Unspecified Feedback Sucks–Its Ok to Ask for Clarification!

If a bit of feedback really gets under your skin, whether it’s from one person or several, but it’s really broad or completely unspecified, like “I hated some of your characters!” or “I hated all of your characters!” PLEASE know that it’s okay to ask for clarification. You obviously don’t want to needle your beta readers with questions, but if something they said really strikes you as important but you’re not sure what they mean or what they’re specifically referring to, just ask.

Also, when inviting people to give you feedback, whether an alpha reader, critique partner, or beta readers, it’s often helpful to let them know what you’re looking for in feedback, including asking them to be specific.

When You Get a Rewrite Instead of Feedback

It’s one thing when someone offers a rewording of a particularly tricky sentence or paragraph–I’ve had people do that for me occasionally and have done it for others–but when someone does this habitually and ends up rewriting huge chunks of your story, that’s just not okay. That’s not what you were asking for, and it’s important for you to know the problem lies with them, not you. First and foremost, just discard that crap. This is your story, not theirs. If they want to write a story, they’re welcome to, but they shouldn’t try to commandeer your work.

But also, take their beta experience into account, because it’s possible they just haven’t beta read before or haven’t done it a lot and genuinely didn’t know what else to do. This is another reason why it’s helpful to let people know what you expect from them when inviting them to give you feedback. Sometimes people just don’t know what you’re looking for, so they do something totally unexpected like rewrite half your story. And there are also people who confuse beta reading with editing, though even editors shouldn’t be completely rewriting your story like that.

You may decide to not work with that particular person again. Or, if you do, next time you invite them to give you feedback, just say something like, “I’m just looking for overall impressions and general feedback, not any sort of editing or revision. Thanks!”

No matter what, just don’t take that kind of thing to heart. Because I could hand twenty people the first chapter of any critically acclaimed book and they could all find ways to put their own spin on it. That isn’t a statement about the writer. It’s just a testament to the versatility of storytelling. No sweat! It doesn’t mean you’re a bad writer. :)

————————————————————————————————-Have a question? My inbox is always open, but make sure to check through my FAQ and post master lists first to see if I’ve already answered a similar question. :)

[ih8me2ash]

My Journal Entries (post #25)

The winter suits me better.

I just asked for a break, a break from this suffocating brick on my chest. To run away from this fear of isolation, putting a group of piranhas in a tank with nothing to eat for almost a year and watch them start to eat each other. If you want my honest opinion that's how I feel about the quarantine. I can't do anything, at all. And people wonder why 2020 is like the next great depression. The only reason why I'm scared of being by myself is that the words I'm writing now are what happens when I'm starting to talk to myself too much. I'm a rude son of a bitch, but I had to take a break from social media because I was being attacked left and right. The internet is like a pack of bloodthirsty wolves. Tell people they're wrong once and you'll be devoured. Even if you're right, and they're completely in the wrong.

Sometimes I think about taking a long smoke break, walk to the train tracks, and wait. I would feel cold in my hands, but the fire from my cigarette will keep me warm until then. I feel like no one would even look for my remains. My jeans wouldn't be the only thing torn and ripped. I could hurt myself and no one would even notice, trust me I know. I've forgotten to cover my arms before and no one even questioned me, people would take a glance, and then they would look away and I would overthink about my body and hide, then remember no matter how much my skin burns it's just a normal day for the world outside of mine.

I'm always thinking about how much I feel like a ghost, transparent, see-through. I'm the one who fades into a crowd of people so easily. And I have a hard understanding if that's a good thing or not. Because I hate being left alone, but when I run away from everything I don't want to be found. But even acknowledging me, just makes me feel like it sometimes forced to even put me in the picture. Why did you save me if you make me feel so out of place? Instead of making me feel like a ghost emotionally now, you should of let me be a real ghost back then and just left me to hang out to dry. Because now I feel like I could be buried six feet under with no concern. I'm not kidding where I am once again as I mentioned no one in the right mind should waste their time day worrying about me or care about me when I'm just a dead man walking, or that's at least how people make me feel.

If I stop breathing, no one is obligated to notice if I do. And that's on neglect, and being so used to it. No thanks to anyone in my family. Do you know how I can look through old posts on my Tumblr or on Elite Skills from four years ago talking about how much they "took cared of me, and how much I loved them and they loved me?" And I knew it was bullshit? That wasn't me, because I had someone moderating me, breathing over my shoulder to be forced to say that sappy shit. They didn't care about me, they only cared about the image I gave them. Once again, if you post anything public on the internet for anyone to see, get ready to have those canine fangs breaking your skin. You have an opinion anywhere else in your head, you really should keep it to yourselves, I mean that basically defeats me writing here, but people think I don't come on here and no one besides my therapist even looks at my journal entries on my Tumblr. Because I don't give that shit out to anyone because people who I don't and I mean I really don't even want them to breathe the same air as me, to find me. And I wish I could stop thinking about them, and how they use to make me feel, in those times no matter how much I took the bruises, the punches, the scratches, the cigarette burns, the kicks, the pulling, the bloody noses, I blamed myself. Even though I was going through shit, I didn't want them to take the blame because they made me feel like everything was up to me and that everything was my fault fully.  My baby hotel made an obedient loyal crybaby out of me.

Even now as a young adult, when people are using me for anything, I just roll over and take it. People say it's because I'm too nice or maybe I don't like conflict. When in reality it's because I was taught if I have any type of empathy or an opinion I was badly abused, emotionally, verbally, and physically. So when someone is upsetting me in a way or makes me feel uncomfortable, I kind of go into this numb state and block out everything, my whole body feels like when your leg falls asleep from laying on it to long, and I'm back on autopilot again and then after the whole ordeal, I beat myself over it for not stating my feelings. That's been an endless cycle since I was six. It started when I was five because sadly I believe even my baby hotel mother knew how easy it is to manipulate a child made by her womb tomb.  But if you hear anything about me when it comes from my family, I'm a betrayer, I'm an ungrateful bitch, I'm the liar, the disrespectful brat, or that I shouldn't have complained too much because even though I was going through a lot I should have just gotten over it. My aunt, my mother's sister, and my grandmother's oldest daughter flat ass told me when my grandmother died at the funeral that my crying was annoying and that I should have just gone outside if I was going to cry like a child. I was sixteen, and I cry softly. But most importantly I cried more over her mother than she did. Heartless, those people are psychotic heartless harpies. I'm not going to sugarcoat this, you can only put a person through that kind of shit for too long before that person learns to bark back because that sick twisted family betrayed me, they're the ungrateful bitches, a pack of liars, disrespectful and spoiled brats, do you know how demented and ignorant you all were and still are? And just because someone is different don't black sheep them because you're fucking boring, none of you could understand what I went through because you were worrying about how much you have that precious pathetic image that you held over your heads. I hope you know your "crowns" are falling apart.

And people wonder why I have so many trust issues, why I refuse to open up. Do you see how that's gotten me so far? No offense, but fuck you for using me to make you happy until you felt like you didn't need me anymore and left me wondering where I went wrong. Do you know what's the saddest thing is? The nicest, kindest, quiet, understanding people will never believe a single compliment they're given but they believe every insult. And wonder why when the people I was around treated me like I was nothing. My anxiety has made me physically nauseated because lately feeling anything has just left me heartbroken or like I can't do anything right anymore. To be honest, people would do better without me dragging them down with me. Maybe, just maybe, others are right about me being toxic and negative because I'm stuck in the past. No matter how far I try to walk the distance out of this tar, I'm just getting sucked in more, because now I'm looking closer at the warning sign and it says quicksand. More like guilt sand, I'm just one person so how am I supposed to live in this cage? I had to put all these posters up so I wasn't staring at white walls for too long, I'm told that I'm not crazy, but I do feel unstable. And I know I should just say this is my fault for letting this go for too long for just lying to myself that I'm going to be fine sooner or later, I'm not. Who am I kidding? You're looking at the worst luckiest person in the fucking world at this point. My karma is unbalanced when I didn't do anything to deserve this. But nope, my sister can walk Scott free, the same with my idiot of a mother. And I'm here, suffering like always, do they even feel bad for the way they treated me? Do they? Probably not, just my wishful thinking. People only care about themselves, they don't care about the people they might hurt on their way to victory. You're hurt? You're lonely? You're depressed? You're a victim? You were backstabbed? Do you ever think about how you made me feel? Because what you Kaylee my sister and you Jennifer my mother did to me was billions of times worse. Selfishness isn't helpful for anyone, not even for yourself. Because after you're done being bitter you'll look around and no one will be there for you. You are not anything you claim, Any of you. Not just my family, everyone who even gets close to me. You only think about yourselves, never about who you think you're hurting.  That’s why I feel like a ghost, because people treat me like I’m just nothing and nothing more.  - ａｓｈｔｏ n  ♡

[fallenfurther]

Eagle!Scott

 When @soniabigcheese mentioned Eagle!Scott I wondered what kind of situations it would be useful in, and this is the one that popped into my head. Sorry it’s taken a long time to get round to writing it I’ve had so many other posts wanting to be written first. Enjoy!

****

The local fair was big, nowhere near state fair big, but people came from all around to visit it. Scott and his brothers had no end of choice in food. Sure, they'd had their fair share of sweet treats, but even Gordon and Alan had eaten plenty of the novelty savoury foods that were on offer. Then there were the fairground rides. They'd been on so many he was surprised someone hadn't been sick! John didn't go on all the rides, but Scott knew he was enjoying himself, despite the crowd.

Alan and Gordon ran head again and Scott sighed. Dad had left him in charge, though there was a security detail following them, because they were Tracy's after all, but the responsibility of not losing his siblings weighed down on Scott's shoulders. Thankfully, Virgil and John were dependable and together they had managed keep the youngest two in sight.

So far, they'd done a few rollercoasters and Virgil had managed to win a stuffed dolphin on a game, which he'd gifted to Gordon, but ended up carrying himself. They had wandered through some of the craft and small business stalls, which had bored the youngest, but Virgil had enjoyed chatting to some of the artists about their work. Scott had taken business cards of some local companies that he thought matched Tracy Industries ethos and might want to be involved with or support. The next ride on the list was the waltzers, which John was adamant on missing out on.

"Consider it space training!" Scott joked, knowing too well that John would be sick if he sat with Alan or Gordon. "You can sit with me and we spin as little or much as you want.”

A clear sharp 'No' from John and that was the end of it. Scott had tried. Instead he handed John his rucksack and Virgil handed him the dolphin and they joined the queue. When they clambered onto the ride, Scott made sure to wave a John. Virgil and Gorgon shared a cart while Scott had Alan with him. Gordon and Alan had a spinning contest and cheered and cheered as they made the carts go faster and faster in circles. Even with the minimal experience he'd had in a stunt plane, Scott's stomach churned, and he struggled to walk in a straight line afterwards. Alan and Gordon argued about who had spun faster until Scott threw up, forcing Gordon to admit defeat to Alan as Virgil seemed unscathed by the ride. Virgil rubbed his back as he crouched in a corner, handing a bottle of water to him so he could swill out his mouth. Scott gingerly stood up.

"I think that second corndog was a bad idea." Scott said as he turned to spy the other three, hanging around a picnic table. Scott and Virgil headed over as John sat down, dolphin still held awkwardly in his arms.

"I need to head the bathroom, then we can head down the next row of crafts stalls." Virgil announced and a small groan came from Alan. Scott plonked himself down opposite John, head in his hands as he waited for his stomach to settle. He sat there, taking deep breaths, as they waited for Virgil to return. His stomach slowly started to calm down.

"Who's got eyes on the Terrible Two?" Virgil asked on his return and looking between John and Scott. Scott looked up at Virgil. Scott gawked as he realised that he hadn't had his eyes in the youngest Tracys for the entire time he'd been sitting down. A frantic look around confirmed that they had lost sight of them. They started calling out, staying close to each other and in the area around the picnic tables. After a scout of the nearby area, the boys regrouped at the last place they'd seen their siblings and sat around the bench. Fear and dread filled Scott, but he tried to stay calm, his still unsettled stomach churning slightly. He slipped his phone from his pocket and called the security detail supervisor.

"Hey, you guys have eyes in Alan and Gordon, right?" Scott tried to keep the worry out of his voice.

"Negative." The steady even tone of the supervisor did nothing to make Scott feel calm. How could they have let them slip!? They were kids. It was there job to keep them safe!

"Stay with your other brothers and stay where you are. I have eyes on you three and I have men looking for the youngest two."

Anger and frustration filled Scott. He was disappointed in himself for losing his brothers but was even more annoyed that the people paid to protect them had too. He continued to scan the crowd just in case. They sat nervously, and after ten minutes of waiting Scott called the supervisor for an update. They were still lost. After another ten minutes and another negative from the controller, Scott was getting angsty. He looked at his brothers, both of which were starting to look worried. It was getting to the point that Dad might have to be called. They waited another ten minutes and still no sighting of Gordon and Alan. Damn it! Scott thought.

"There's one more thing we should try before we call Dad, but we need to ditch our eyes."

Virgil and John looked at each other, their shocked expressions a mirror of the other.

"You can't be serious, Scott!" John exclaimed, "You can't do that here, there's too many people."

"I know the risks, but with a bird's eye view and I might be able to find them. I can easily scout the whole fair from the sky, and once I've spotted them, I'll lead you two to them, then we just need to find a safe place for me to transform."

His brothers looked at each other and sighed. They really didn't want to get dad involved, but the security detail wasn't anywhere near finding Alan and Gordon. They all felt the fear that they may have been kidnapped.

"Fine. I'll come with you and grab your clothes. Once you've found them land on that telephone pole and we'll follow you." Virgil sighed and stood. Scott headed to the men's, though instead of going in them he snuck behind the structure. They moved far enough down to be well hidden from the public. Scott pulled off his shirt and slipped out his shoes and jeans. He shivered slightly and hesitated before he pulled down his boxers, baring all to his brother. He sighed, focused and felt his body morph. His arms became great wings and it always felt strange when he sprouted his tail feathers. Virgil bent down, held out his arm and allowed Scott to step up. There wasn't enough room for him to take off from the ground.

"Carefully with those claws, Scott. I'm fed up of having to explain away the scratches. I might have to take John into class to prove we have a cat!"

Scott squawked at his brother. He really couldn't help squeezing hard, it always took a moment to get used to being a bird. Virgil stepped up the back steps of one of the food trailers which was parked by the toilets. They were still hidden from crowd and Virgil raised his arm up toward the roof. Scott hopped off and onto the roof with a wobble.

"You really aren't that graceful, are you?" A voice came from below. Scott was tempted to give Virgil a bit of 'luck', but his brother knew better and was now standing out of reach.

Scott looked up at the sky and spread his large brown wings. The wind ruffled his feathers and the urge to fly filled him. A few steps and wing beats and he was in the air. He took a moment to enjoy the sensation as he reached the right height. Once there he looked over the fair, he could already see people pointing and he had a feeling he'd be in the local papers, but it had to be done. He made a mental map of the fair and started a systematic search. He used the wind when he could, so he could glide over the fair. He followed the paths below, using his excellent bird vision to search the crowds for his brothers. It didn't take long until he spotted them, queuing for a rollercoaster that they had already been on, candyfloss and waffles in their hands. Relief and annoyance filled Scott as he curved back towards John and Virgil and perched on the indicated telephone pole. His brothers spotted him and stood up. Scott flew as slowly as he could, circling back around occasionally, until he landed on the ticket hut for the rollercoaster Alan and Gordon were about to get on. Virgil gave him the okay, and John headed to the ride's exit to wait for them.

Scott looked around. He was very aware that people were looking at him. He stood out. Changing back was going to harder than he anticipated. Virgil seemed to notice his hesitation and waited. Scott looked around again. They were close to an exit, and if he could, he would have sighed. It would be safest to transform away from the fair. With that he took off and flew to perch on a telephone pole just outside the fair. When Virgil had wondered within metres of the pole he flew off and headed to the back of the grass field, where a corn field started. Virgil knew better than follow his brother 'as the crow flies' so headed down the path towards the field. Scott had flown low over the field so no-one would see him drop down. He transformed on the floor and made his way towards the corner Virgil would approach from, carefully crouching to stay hidden.

"Scott? You in there?" Virgil called.

"I'm here!" Scott called back and waited, moving the corn near him so Virgil had something to look for. Virgil came up to him with a smirk on his face. Yes, this was rather undignified, but his brothers had been found and that was all that mattered to Scott. Scott quickly dressed and headed back to the fair with Virgil. They met up with John and a rather sheepish looking Alan and Gordon, at the exit of the rollercoaster. Scott gave the security a call, who confirmed that they now had eyes on all of them, though he wasn't happy about Scott giving him the slip. Scott pointed out it wouldn't have happened if they'd done their job right.

"Right you two." Scott gave his youngest brothers a glare. "Dad will hear about this. You know that we had to stay together, and you deliberately ran off."

Gordon opened his mouth to say something, but Scott gave him a look and he kept quiet.

"I should take us all home, but I don't want to go as much as you do. So, we'll stay, but only if you stay in sight. Any funny business and we go. Got it?"

A nod from Alan and Gordon and Scott was satisfied enough. They knew he meant it from previous excursions.

"Right, I believe there are some dodgems over that way. Something we can all do together." Scott said, pointing in the correct direction. With smiles all round they headed that way. Virgil stole Gordon's candyfloss bag and nabbed some before throwing it to Scott. Scott grabbed some out of it before holding high above his head, out of Gordon's reach.

"Hey! Give it back! Get your own!" Gordon jumped up trying to reach the bag but falling short.

Scott chuckled. "I think you've had enough sugar already. You need to save room for dinner, I believe Grandma's cooking."

The grimace on Gordon's face was priceless. Alan's wasn't much happier, and Scott definitely wasn't going to tell them that he was in charge of dinner that night. Quick and simple was on the books, if anyone was still hungry.

"After I've smashed you in the dodgems, we had better eat as much as we can." Alan said to his partner in crime.

"Hey, I'm going to be the one bumping into you!" Gordon stated, giving Alan a gentle push.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" Scott chuckled, "After the stunt you two pulled, you'd both better be looking out. I've got my eyes set on both of you!"

[bigskydreaming]

Idk guys, could people maybe just try taking me at my word every now and again? I mean, what exactly is it that people think I get out of these posts?

Is it popularity? Do you think I make these posts to be popular? Because I took several months upon moving into Batfandom a year or two ago before actually making these kinds of posts more than once in a blue moon, and I was waaaaaaaaaaay more popular initially than I am now. I lost literal scores of followers once people realized this is a Thing for me, and could probably get most of them back if I just....stopped. Given the number of people who seem to follow and unfollow me regularly, as if just to see if I’m ‘done yet.’

So.....no, its not about popularity.

Is it about note counts? Do you think I make these posts to get notes, by being controversial, or with ‘the anti’s’? Because if you look through my archives you’d see that without variation, I consistently get FAR less notes on these posts that I do compared to like....literally ANY other content I post. When I write a Batfandom meta indepth, its rare for me not to get hundreds of notes on it. When I write a post like the last one examining survivor-related topics in depth, its rare for me to get up to even fifty notes. 

So......no, its not about note counts.

Is it about garnering sympathy/pity? I do rely on donation posts sometimes, and I might see gains there due to people having sympathy or pity for me that they’re afraid to tangibly express online due to the controversial nature of many of my posts, but that might show up there, right? Well, sure, except for the fact that....my sob story is in no way reliant on these more controversial posts to exist, and in fact would be a hell of a lot more compelling when it comes to attaining donations if I DIDN’T add in all these other posts that are blatantly alienating to a lot of the people who were like “you had me at abuse/incest/rape survivor who needs major surgery as an end result of his gay bashing way back in college but then you lost me when you said I am a literal rapist for reading and writing specific fics like wtf dude?”

So.....no, its not about garnering sympathy/pity or even donations.

Is it about just being interesting or standing out or getting attention? Do you think I make these posts like a broken record because I have nothing else to talk about? Because uh, I have my pet topics but I can literally write essays on pretty much ANYTHING and everything about Dick Grayson or Scott McCall or Bobby Drake or plenty of other characters. And again, like I mentioned above, consistently get WAY more attention and engagement from people on any of those. I don’t need even my survivor status to be interesting, thanks, and I don’t even actually care all that much about it at the end of the day, because anyone who’s followed me for any length of time knows I would be perfectly happy to talk for a week straight about my OCs or original content even, as long as I have even just one or two people engaging with it, lol. 

So....no, its not about being interesting or getting attention.

Is it about being a know-it-all, regarded as having certain expertise or being an authority on a certain topic? If so, that’d be a weird choice given how often I talk about how being a survivor is NOT a monolithic experience, and the fact that I center myself in my posts on the subject is not because I’m presuming I speak for everyone, but rather specifically to keep my views and experiences tailored specifically to ME and my own experiences entirely....the only viewpoint from which I AM qualified to speak with authority. I don’t post what I post the way I post to be viewed as the be-all and end-all of surivor views, and I don’t make it about myself and my experiences to wave my survivor credentials around and shut down opposition - if I did, it’d be blatantly ineffective given the amount of anon hate I get and derailing my posts experience, most of the time using information I’ve freely offered up in my own posts in an attempt to trigger or silence me. I post the way I post in these posts for one reason only, usually to my own detriment - I’m simply trying to humanize a topic that far too many people IMO deliberately try to view as abstract and hypothetical in order to distance themselves from the real issues. Not to mention like, I know a great deal about a lot of things? There aren’t many other former stuntmen or actors posting in this part of the internet that I’ve seen, I could focus on my own expertise there, or in any number of academic topics I’ve explored a lot just out of personal interest. Hell, I’ve been called a ‘Dick Grayson expert’ more than once, and could easily just focus on my knowledge and insight of his character, if I weren’t so often alienating half his fandom with these posts, right?

So.....no, its not about being a know-it-all or regarded as having certain expertise or being an authority on a certain topic.

So really, when it comes right down to it, there’s only two things it could possibly be, wouldn’t you agree? Either I’m speaking from a place of honesty as to very real reactions and views I have on this subject, born of my own experiences and knowledge.....or I’m just speaking out my ass from a place of wanting to feel morally superior about something.

But does it really make sense for it to be the latter? If I wanted a moral superiority hill to die on in order to feel good about myself or whatever, do you really think this is the only one I could come up with, or come back to this often? Given the number of ways it seems to shoot me in the foot in the process? Oh, I know I have a certain tone when I speak on this subject. I know I ooze the same ‘you sound so dumb right now’ tone I accuse others of when I approach stuff like this, but the thing is.....all of that ALWAYS traces back to like...me REACTING off of something, not just randomly up and deciding hey this is a good week to be hated by bringing up something I know damn well 90% of my followers would be happy to see me never bring up again.

And for a guy who clearly LIKES interacting and engagement on this platform as much as I do, does that make any sort of sense at all? Maybe every now and then, but as often as I do post about this stuff, for as long as I’ve been?

Or could it possibly just be like.....I’m telling the truth, and this shit is really, truly exhausting in a way that I, and any other survivor it exhausts, shouldn’t HAVE to put up with. Its not like I came out of the gate swinging, in fandom at large or even this fandom specifically. It took time to get me just....tired of it. The same bullshit, every day, every week, without fail. And again, it all mirrors the same shit I’ve been hearing from people my whole life, to avoid engaging with the ways they weren’t even complicit in my past traumas, but just....inconvenienced by it. People talk a good game about being there for us, believing us, supporting us, but in my experience, the second something beyond a simple acknowledgment of status is asked for, the second something someone would have to ACT UPON is asked for.....the switch flips.

And that shit. Is. Exhausting.

I don’t make noise on this subject because I in any way actionably or actually benefit from it. I don’t even make noise on it EXPECTING to, at this point. I make noise simply because.....the subject deserves noise, and I deserve to make it if I make that choice, and for too much of my life that just wasn’t a possibility. And all of this bullshit, as a result? Make no mistake, its just bullshit. I don’t ever call it me being bullied or victimized or harassed or martyred, because its none of those things and I don’t regard it as those things. (Well I occasionally refer to that TW anon as harassing, but that’s because their behavior is not just limited to me and very much fits every textbook definition of the word and needs to be regarded as such). But the rest of it? Like, I don’t have a martyr or victim complex because I don’t feel victimized by this shit, lmfao. It really is just exhausting and irritating. It makes me tired and annoyed. Not harmed. Even being genuinely triggered by shit, which happens more than I care to have it happen, is at the end of the day still just an unwanted echo of a shout that I heard years ago, and an echo is never going to hurt me the way that initial shout did or have the same impact. I’ll never quite get how people seem so convinced that their anon hate or triggering effect is going to accomplish what nothing before this actually did or be the TRULY demoralizing impact I can’t move past or whatever, as opposed to just being irritating and frustrating in its hypocrisy, but well. Guess people are projecting about feeling powerless in their own lives, lol, whoops.

But just....the hypocrisy of all this grates. And the only thing I’m really looking for out of it, if I’m even looking for anything at all, is just even a few people over the years saying something as simple as “i never really thought about it like this but I can see it now.” Is it really that hard to just listen to people? My ‘voice of moral superiority/condescension’ in these things comes from the fact that I AM listening, I HAVE been listening, and that’s why I know for a fact that the things being said in opposition are all things I’ve heard MANY MANY times before, and refuted or seen refuted each time. Can some of you say the same thing about yours? Especially when that tone only comes up in posts that repeatedly reaffirm that you’re not actually responding to anything I’ve actually said or written, but merely your own idea of what you THINK I’m saying, or else just a viewpoint you’re comfortable refuting, even if its not actually mine and at best tangential to my own? When you can find something insightful in so many of my posts about a character we both like, and understand even the most rambling of my essays about Dick Grayson just fine, can you truly and with confidence say the disconnect when it comes to hearing and understanding what I say in these posts is all mine? Are you sure it has NOTHING to do with anything you bring into your reading of these posts from a place of defensiveness or preconceptions of your own?

Just....think about it.

[spaceorphan18]

ckerouac replied to your post

“what is your favorite episode from your least favorite season of glee?...”

Ok I love this question, but 1, this is cooper Anderson erasure and 2, I think S8 is way less trash than you do lol

I know - I did think about Cooper - and Big Brother is definitely a highlight, but as whole episodes, I like the other two more :( 

Okay - let’s break down season 8 and see how bad (or alright) it really is! I’d love to hear your opinions on it, RB! (Clearly this is my life now) 

The List - Robert splits the staff in half on some random list that he made.  I think it’s a pretty decent episode, which reintroduces the characters pretty well.  Plus, we get some great Pam stuff, so I’m okay with that. 

The Incentive - Andy has to motivate the office.  Another episode which isn’t that bad, despite being a plot line already done by Michael Scott.  

Lotto - The warehouse wins the lotto, and Darryl has to rethink his life choices.  There’s some good Darryl development in here, and Andy isn’t that bad as a manager - but he’s not great, and it does feel like they keep trying to give Andy plots originally for Michael Scott, which doesn’t help. 

Garden Party - This is the first episode that starts to bug me.  Andy’s obsessive need to impress Robert as well as his parents is incredibly irritating.  However, this episode does get a few points for having a fun Dwight/Jim subplot. 

Spooked - This one is... interesting? Robert asks everyone about their fears and laces it all together for a bizarre scary story.  It’s strange, but definitely watchable. 

Doomsday - Dwight creates a doomsday device! I really wish they had gone more with the tension of not screwing things up, but it’s more about getting Dwight to turn it off.  Not a bad episode despite not being what I initially thought it’d be.  And better on rewatch. 

Pam’s Replacement - Pam’s pregnant and worried about Jim being interested in her replacement.  Shenanigans ensue -- favorite one! 

Gettysburg - I think this episode is boring more than anything.  Andy gets half the group to go to Gettysburg for a motivational trip.  Not only is a questionable Michael Scott plotline, they already kind of did this during The Incentive.  There’s a fun side plot involving Schrute Farms, however it’s not balanced out by the stupid side plot of Robert thinking Kevin is the next big genius.   (Also Pam leaves because Jenna Fischer went on maternity leave, and that might be a reason I think these episodes get worse for a while.) 

Mrs. California - This episode is where I think the season starts to turn really not good.  Robert’s wife comes into the office -- he wants Andy to hire here but not hire her.  It’s so dumb - especially when his wife seems totally normal.  The mind games seem stupid, and make Robert seem insane instead of mysteriously clever - which seemed to be what they originally going for.  Meanwhile, Dwight has the dumbest side plot about starting a gym -- which makes it clear the writers seemed to be running out of ideas. 

Christmas Wishes - The Christmas episodes aren’t usually that bad, and this one isn’t.  There’s a little too much drunk Erin getting weird about Andy and his girlfriend, but it’s watchable.  And there’s some fun Dwight/Jim stuff going on throughout. 

Trivia - This is an episode I’m disappointed isn’t more interesting than it sounds.  The gang goes to Oscar’s gay bar for trivia night.  It’s another watchable one - but there’s so much more they could have done with it.  

Pool Party - This episode is fuckin’ weird.  Everyone goes to Robert’s weird house for a pool party and everyone is just... weird during it.  Except Jim, who just wants to leave.  I don’t really like it cause it focuses way too hard on Dwight, Erin, and Robert, and it’s not necessarily weird in a good way since half of them don’t feel in character.  

Jury Duty - This one is, fine, I suppose.  Jim tries to make it up to the office for being gone for a week, and Dwight deals with Angela having her baby.  I’m kinda annoyed at this point that the writers no longer take Jim very seriously, and he’s consistently written as a dumbass, and the Angela/Senator thing would be better if it didn’t drag on and on and on, but at least this one doesn’t focus too much on Robert/Andy/Erin shit. 

Special Project - This one kicks off the Florida arc, which is...idk, maybe a step up from the rest of the season? This episode is pretty good as it sorts out who is going and who is staying, and Pam’s back! 

Tallahassee - The first episode actually in Florida.  I’m meh about it.  Dwight gets really sick, and there’s some gross stuff going on there.  And we get the intro to Nelly, whom I find frustrating during her tenure in season 8 (she’s fine in season 9), and Todd Packer’s around again, which always annoys me.  The Scranton stuff is fine - as Andy is receptionist for a day. 

After Hours - This one is mostly fine.  I love the plot line where Jim has to keep away from Cathy and uses Dwight to help him out.  The rest of it is meh as a lot of it is Nelly and Todd Packer being weird together, Ryan hitting on Erin, and a lot of Darryl and Val drama that isn’t as interesting as it could be. 

Test the Store - The Florida story is pretty good where the store down there opens, and there’s some interesting things going on.  But I hate the subplot about Andy and Pam being bullied by 12yo girls.  HATE IT

Last Day in Florida - This one is, idk, another meh-ish one? Jim is trying to stop Dwight getting fired, and while I love the dynamic, maybe not one of their better story lines.  Meanwhile Toby and Darryl are selling girl scout cookies, and it’s incredibly boring.  Also, Erin decides to stay in Florida to help an elderly woman - and this kicks off the WORST run in the show.  I’d rather watch Scott’s Tots again than the next three episodes... 

Get the Girl - I HATE THIS EPISODE. Andy goes back to get Erin -- and ends up staying with the elderly woman Erin’s with to woo her back.  It’s so cringy, and both Andy and Erin seem like dumber and more annoying than they usually are.  Meanwhile - while Andy’s gone, Nellie just comes and takes over Andy’s job.  And as much as I hate Andy and Erin at the moment, I hate that his job is just given to Nellie because she decides to sit in the manager’s office.  It’s so dumb.  Every part of this episode is dumb and it probably is the worst episode in the series.  

Welcome Party - Continuing the terrible plot lines of season 8, now that Andy and Erin are back together - they have to go dumb Andy’s not at all developed girlfriend while she’s at a family gathering.  It’s so, so terrible and awful.  And makes Andy and Erin seem like the worst people.  This seems far worse than anything Michael Scott ever did.  Meanwhile, Dwight and Jim are forced to throw a party for Nellie - which is at least watchable, but Nellie is still fairly annoying at this point, too.  

Angry Andy - The Andy and Nellie plot lines come to a head, which you know just by the description isn’t going to go well.  Andy gets angry and terrible, Nellie is still insufferable, and Robert is no longer making any sense at all.  The climax of these stupid episodes is just as bad as the rest of it.  The only redeeming factor of this episode is the subplot involving Kelly choosing between Ryan and an actual decent guy, and everyone helping Kelly try to move on from Ryan. 

Fundraiser - While this episode is at least better than the past three, I find it mostly boring.  The office goes to a silent auction - yay(?) No, it’s boring. Andy spends the whole time plotting revenge against Robert for firing him.  Dwight seems uncharacteristically stupid about the auction.  And Darryl teaches Nellie how to eat a taco (yes that is a plot line) and Angela’s husband hits on Oscar.  

Turf War - This episode is probably the first fully good episode since Special Project? Robert’s going crazy, and closing down branches, so Dwight and Jim go against other branches to steal clients.  It’s nice to see Dwight and Jim work together.  Pam gets to know Nellie - and Nellie’s at least tolerable in the episode? 

Free Family Portrait Studio - Considering that most of the season is rough, this one isn’t bad, though probably one of the weakest season finales.  Dwight schemes to figure out if he’s the father of Angela’s baby - and we’re left on that cliffhanger.  Meanwhile, David Wallace is back as CEO, and gives Andy his job back, and while it’s nice that Robert is leaving (and Sabre is going away), the writing for the show is on the wall.  

So, looking at this list and thinking about it.  The biggest issue is that there’s so much Andy and so much Erin and so much of their terrible romance that it grows tiresome really fast.  Meanwhile, Robert California is a bizarre addition that doesn’t quite fit.  Nor does Nellie, whom it’s obvious the writers like, but aren’t sure how to use her well.  Meanwhile, Dwight, Jim, and Pam don’t feel very present nor do any of them have many memorable plot lines, and it doesn’t help that the writers seem to be stuck in dummy-Jim mode, as well as Pam just not being there for half the season.  

And... there we go, too much time spent on season 8.