#jamestown fic

[gordopickett]

WIP Wednesday!

I was tagged by @benwvatt last week, and I'm just getting around to this on Monday, so… 🤷‍♀️ lol.

Tagging @allatariel @onekisstotakewithme @lacontroller1991

@violetmuses @tiltedsyllogism @castalyne & anyone else who wants to play! 😁

Here's a snippet from one of my For All Mankind fics called "Confined" which is basically one big missing scene in the 3 weeks that Gordo is confined to the Jamestown base. This is from Chapter 1 (which is the only chapter I've written so far lol).

Gordo looked at Ed who was still working nearby. He had the toolbox out and was tightening screws in the partition that he had thrown Gordo against the night before. Gordo wondered if the screws were actually in need of tightening or if Ed was simply trying to busy himself so he wouldn’t have to interact with Gordo. Dani handed Gordo a fork. He took it and looked down at the yellowish-white patty of gelatinous goo that was meant to pass for scrambled eggs. He took a deep breath and stuck his fork in it. He brought the bite up, feeling a small gag in his throat. He swallowed away the sensation and put the fork in his mouth. Once he had gotten the bite down, he said, “I can’t wait to have a big, juicy cheeseburger at The Outpost again.” “Yeah.” Dani smiled. “And some cheese fries.” “Apple pie,” Gordo added. “Pizza.” “Oh, yes,” Gordo said, his mouth watering at the thought. “Pizza.” “What are you looking forward to, Ed?” Dani asked. “Getting the rest of our work done today,” Ed said dutifully. Gordo took another bite of his scramble as Dani smiled and rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “And Karen’s homemade spaghetti,” Ed added after a beat, his tone softening a little. Dani chuckled. “There you go.”

[arrthurpendragon]

@megraen

[vulptalia]

re: ur last post with the videos, i’d very much be interested to hear more on ur thoughts abt alfred and arthur’s relationship — the good and the bad — when alfred was growing up if you feel like sharing!

Anon, I could speak for hours on this (under the cut)

I’ll start with a blanket disclaimer that this is all my head cannon based loosely on real history and personal preference, and very very sparingly based on the actual Hetalia Cannon. Oh also TW for verbal/physical abuse.

The Nation personas, as I see them, are human-adjacent manifestations of a society under one sovereign nation. This is very open ended, I have no specifics on what quantifies when a persona is “born,” but nonetheless as far as humans are concerned: they know of these personas and have their own complicated relationships with them.

In blanket terms I think these personas were often deified by their cultures prior to the renaissance. Personas like Ancient Rome, or China, or even Japan were probably seen as immortal gods for long periods of their nations’ history. I’m no theologian so I can’t speak to how their existence would influence real life religions of the time, so for the most part I just say they go hand in hand. But nonetheless, to put it simply, the personas have always been seen as others. As I mentioned they are (practically) immortal, and age at an indiscriminate rate (more or less related to the existence of their nation), so pretty non-human in that regard.

I head cannon that Arthur was born in the Dark Ages, perhaps late-800CE. Because of Christian beliefs of the time he had multiple attempts on his life as a baby, as he grew slowly compared to other new-borns, and (evidently) couldn’t be killed. Eventually left in the woods to die, Arthur managed to survive, and grow, and spent decades away from people to avoid violence against him. However, come the establishment of a unified England under Athelstan (? Forgive my English history knowledge) and the establishment of other nations in Europe around the same time, with their own personas (HRE), the English began searching for their nation’s persona and Arthur revealed himself. He was around 200 years old at this point but physical appearance wise he was probably 12-14.

From there on out Arthur was an established figure of the monarchy and lead, (for the most part) a very luxurious life as the English established themselves as a hegemony in Europe. Ofc there’s things like the Hundred Years War, etc, but at this time I think Arthur was becoming very adjacent to his people; power hungry. He enjoyed the life of conquest and empire. Come the age of New World exploration and the knowledge of native tribes along side English and Spanish colonies in the Americas, Arthur most likely advised the English that another persona was likely born, and should be found as part of the race to claim North America.

I head cannon that Alfred was born in the Roanoke Colony (I found this fic shares the same interpretation and I love that!!! <3), and come whatever happened to the Roanoke settlers, Alfred was taken in by a local Native American tribe. I’ve done some research into local tribes during the time period but, in wanting to respect culture and get my facts right, I haven’t settled on a particular tribe or nation. Though I lean towards the Paspahegh. Alfred was of course a unique baby as well, taking years to grow into a toddler, however in alignment of Powhatan beliefs, I believe the Paspahegh would’ve seen Alfred as more akin to an offering: an example of healthy land, a healthy child. This to say, they had no interest in harming him and were not dissuaded by his slow aging.

Of course, as history would go: following the settlement of Jamestown and the Paspahegh Massacre, Alfred was given directly to Arthur (at his request) to raise and tend to. Alfred would be around 20 but physically he was 4, maybe 5. He doesn’t really remember the Massacre, and Arthur doesn’t talk about it.

Initially in the conquest for the New World I believe Arthur was very head strong and goal oriented, but actually meeting Alfred changed that for him. He had of course planned to raise this child for the sake of the English empire (a loyal colony), however he didn’t anticipate actually caring for him. Arthur falls for him hard and having Alfred actually causes him a great deal of anxiety. He fears Alfred will be attacked by people like he was, and he fears what the future holds for him. At this point in history Arthur had seen hundreds of battles, had fought in bloody, brutal wars, and worst of all had seen what people were capable of doing to things they feared. So, Arthur has a house built outside of Jamestown for him and Alfred, and he begins to raise him in solitude.

He’s strict, and of course very English. Alfred is raised in silks and taught piano with a private English education. He’s not allowed to leave the property and he certainly isn’t allowed to speak to anyone who isn’t Arthur, or the rotating house staff. However, Alfred is lively, and very American. He wants to play in the dirt, he wants to be anything but sheltered. From just the first few years together this sparked Arthur’s harsh parenting (to put it simply).

Think, aristocratic. Children should be seen, not heard. Slouching at the table got a slap on the wrist, dirtied clothes? A harsh lecture. “You should be grateful.” Alfred would misbehave, Arthur would yell.

Arthur was often called back to England, and thus spent months, if not years away from Alfred. During these trips Alfred learned to sneak out, and met Davie. I’ve mentioned this “rotating house staff,” who are obviously human, who serve for a time and then change their post (aka return to England). As my “cannon” goes Alfred grew from ages 4/5-16/17 from 1607 to 1770: meaning he grew about 11 years over the span of ~170 years. This to say Alfred was around different humans, though they were all trained royal staff, aka not personable. They guarded the land, fed Alfred, taught him his lessons, but never stayed longer than 3-4 years before being replaced; to a child living life-times longer than them, those few years might as well be a matter of minutes. So, growing bored and antsy whilst Arthur is away, Alfred escapes the confines of his home and meets colonists. The first human Alfred actually got to meet and speak to on his own, as far as I’m concerned, is Davie.

He visited Davie throughout his life, so presumably at least 50 years of watching what would one day be his nation, begin to flourish. Being "America" he probably not only felt a kinship with the colonists he met and observed, but also longed to be living with them and quickly grew tired of his English life-style, and the selfish rules Arthur imposed on him. I can't recall what the show states is cannon, but I don't think Alfred ever tells Arthur about Davie (at least, not while he's young). When Arthur returns from trips abroad Alfred acts as if he never left the house, and the staff don't snitch out of fear of capital punishment(lol). Instead Alfred spends years attempting to gain his own freedom from under Arthur's strict control of his life, attempting to persuade and getting in numerous arguments. He insists the world is not as horrid as Arthur states, and Arthur doesn't buy it for a second. Under duress of the Seven Years War their relationship fractures even more, and conveniently at the same time the American people are beginning to dread colonial rule.

In his own personal act of rebellion against Arthur, and as a final straw (running away from home) Alfred sought a seat at the First Continental Congress, solidifying himself in alignment with the American people, and revealing himself publicly as the nation’s persona. (Educated folk of the time most likely knew of Alfred’s existence but probably hadn’t considered him a contender this early in the revolution). From there of course, independence in declared, the nations go to war. As they say; the rest is history.

TLDR?;

Alfred was the first chance of a normal, human life Arthur had ever been given. He loved him, he loves him, more than anything but he didn't know how to care for him in a way that wouldn't smother him. Arthur had an ideal version of Alfred and Alfred's life in his mind and he would do anything to make that vision an reality, even if it meant ignoring Alfred's wants, even if it meant yelling at him, or hitting him. However, Alfred couldn't know this, he was a child, he loved Arthur, he loves him still, but he resented him for forcing him into a life he never asked for, and punishing him whenever he rebelled against it. The Revolution is the first of many small steps in mending their relationship, and it takes literal centuries of growth on both their parts until Arthur is willing to admit wrong doing and Alfred is willing to forgive.

[to-know-how-it-ends]

Chapter 1 of the Jewish Outsiders fic is done! Hope you enjoy — this is from brills perspective but there’s more to come!

[myegolovesyou]

hi i wrote a super short cherrycola fic based on the notebook :) pls read and tell me all your thoughts!

[sondheim-girly]

Wooooo ive posted my first fic to ao3!!!

Beta read by @walmartbrandwhatever

@this-hopeless-war wanted to be tagged :)

[heywriters]

How do I find good resources for historical fics? Currently writing a story set in the early 17th century, but looking for resources about it is a bit hard cause some stuff are behind pay walls.

Absolutely! Below are some links that should get you started.

"60 Awesome Search Engines for Serious Writers"

Our favorite writeblr researcher, wordsnstuff, made a masterpost just for you, anon.

"Resources for Writing Period Pieces: 1600s"

---

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[aforeffective]

another fic just over 2 hours later?? more likely than you think (im procrastinating on my finals)

anyways

bev angst. soc girl trio is so important to me actually

[ddagent]

FWB AU please and thank you!!

I am open for prompts (ficlets and full fics), from your ideas to mine. Prompt away!

The elevator stopped on five. Margo nodded at Sergei, and Doctor Alpert who had also joined them for this particular elevator ride. "Good night. I'll see you at the panel tomorrow."

"Looking forward to it!" Sergei called out, and Margo tried not to wince at his audible enthusiasm. But that was Sergei Nikulov: every IAC conference, the man was just so delighted at the prospect of making friends, connecting with his colleagues. It was endearing, really. But also a little disheartening when Margo wondered just who he had to connect with back in Moscow.

Out on her floor, Margo made quick work of the few paces to her hotel room. She unlocked the door, kicked off her shoes, and took off her jacket. Her watch told her she had a good nine minutes for Sergei to reach floor seven, say goodnight to Alpert, and come back down the empty flights of stairs towards her hotel room. Just enough time for her to tidy a few things away, roll down her pantyhose, and take a quick drink of the brandy from the mini bar. It wasn't nerves, like it had been that first year during the '85 IAC conference. A newly divorced Sergei, an incredibly stressed Margo with no piano in sight. An argument in an elevator and an offer nervously made. No, this was different.

This was clear anticipation.

Two short knocks on the door. A pause. Then two more. Sergei. Margo reached over, opened the door, and allowed him to enter. He closed the door softly behind him, the latch catching with an audible snick in the quiet of the room. Margo heard her own uneven breathing, the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears. His slow, methodical walk towards her. Fuck. Sergei's gaze was burning: he took in the undone buttons of her blouse, the bare legs under her skirt. The missing heels and the turned down bed.

He finally closed the distance between them and cradled her face, pulling her up for a long, searing kiss. His tongue slid inside her mouth and all the stresses of her work began to melt away. No Jamestown reports; no Senate oversight committees. Just Sergei's tongue running along her own as he held the back of her neck, his other hand firm against the small of her back.

Pulling away, Sergei pressed his forehead against Margo's. He then left a kiss on the curve of her cheek, teeth nipping at the line of her throat. "I have thought of nothing else since leaving Moscow."

"Just since leaving Moscow?"

Sergei chuckled. "Perhaps longer. And you?"

Margo wasn't going to admit how often she thought about Sergei. Her attempts at stress relief often featured him, now, and the things he had done to her during the last two IAC conferences, that seminar in DC a few months back. That telephone call after Margo had got her new cell phone. But admitting that would put her at a disadvantage. So she didn't respond; just pushed his jacket from his shoulders and slid her hand along his jaw, drawing his mouth back down to hers. Margo felt Sergei smile against her lips as she deepened their kiss.

Mouths barely moving from each other, they made it to the bed. Margo hiked up her skirt; Sergei fiddled with the zipper of his pants. Like last year, they didn't worry about losing any more clothes. Margo enjoyed the feel of his mouth against her breast through the layers of fabric, the damp cotton cool against her skin. She relished how the material of his pants rubbed against her inner thigh as he rutted against her. The weight of Sergei's fingers pressing into her thigh as she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him close.

Inside her, moving slowly, Sergei stared down at her in wonder. He opened his mouth; Margo pressed two fingers to his lips. "Whatever you're about to say, I don't need to hear it. I just need you."

Sergei blinked, nodded, and buried his face in the juncture between her neck and shoulder. He would leave marks – teeth marks in the fabric; bruises upon her skin. Last year she had flushed with embarrassment, afraid that everyone would notice. But half the attendees were in bed with other engineers; it was also October in the UK, so high necklines were acceptable. It was a better use of Sergei's mouth, too.

Margo didn't need to be told she was beautiful. She just needed to feel a release.

[purecommemasolitude]

Darry fic for @outsidersweek! Incomplete atm because schoolwork has been hellish, but two installments this time 🫡

The process of Musical!Darry starting to go by Darrel, ft a Curtis parents prologue

Shoutout to @/girlishwhimsies for being the reason I actually went with "Darrelification" as the title

[literallyjohnnycade]

New One-shot!! Constuctive Criticism Appreciated!

Fandom: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton, The Outsiders (1983), The Outsiders: The Musical - Jamestown Revival & Levine/Rapp

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Major Character Death

Relationships: Johnny Cade & Ponyboy Curtis

Characters: Ponyboy Curtis, Johnny Cade, Darrel "Darry" Curtis Jr., Greasers (The Outsiders)

Additional Tags: Vent?, Meant to be confusing, Ponyboy POV, Ponyboy Curtis Needs a Hug, Dead Johnny Cade, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide Notes, Ponyboy Curtis Angst, dead best friend, Suicidal Ponyboy Curtis, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Series: Part 2 of : ̗̀➛ Outsiders Oneshots *ೃ༄

Summary:

“Do you know how it felt? To lose you, I mean. I suppose I can’t explain. The world moves on, time continues, as if you never left at all.”

Johnny Cade is Gone. Nothing can change that. So Ponyboy takes it in to his own hands.

This fic is in fact my baby sorry i dont usually post my stuff on here lol

[gordopickett]

And If It’s Not Okay... (For All Mankind post-s2 fix-it fic)

*** Chapter 39 is up! ***

Chapter Title: Adapting

Chapter Summary: Gordo & Tracy discuss their friends, Sam, and their own relationship.

*******

“Hey,” Tracy said when Gordo entered the living room. “How were drinks with Ed?”

“Uh,” Gordo uttered. He walked over to the couch and sat down to her left. “We didn’t get to that.”

Tracy furrowed her brow. “I thought you guys were planning to go out for drinks.”

Gordo nodded. “We were, but…” He trailed off, shrugging a shoulder.

Tracy watched him for a moment before saying, “Well, don’t keep me in suspense. What happened?”

Gordo sighed softly. “We went for a walk instead. He’s…” Gordo shook his head. “He’s not in a good place right now.”

“Oh,” Tracy uttered. “Because of Karen?”

Gordo nodded. “He’s afraid she’s going to leave him.”

“Shouldn’t he be the one to leave her?” Tracy asked. “She’s the one who cheated, after all.”

“I don’t know,” Gordo said. “I guess. But he doesn’t want that. He wants their marriage to work, and he’s afraid that she doesn’t.”

“She does,” Tracy said.

Gordo looked at her curiously. “How do you know that?”

“Because I talked to her today. Karen.”

Gordo lifted his eyebrows in surprise. Tracy hadn’t said much to him about Karen or how she felt about the whole situation between her and Danny. Gordo figured she was just taking some time to process what had happened and wrap her head around it. He hadn’t expected her to talk to Karen so soon.

“How did that go?” Gordo asked, watching her closely.

Tracy shrugged. “Weird.”

“Weird, how?”

“Because part of me is really upset about the whole thing. About what she did with Danny. I know our boy is a man now, but it’s just—I couldn’t understand why Karen would do that with him.”

“Yeah,” Gordo whispered. He hadn’t been able to understand it either. But he had been more concerned about Danny and how he was coping with Karen’s rejection than why Karen had done what she did.

“Another part of me sort of…” Tracy trailed off, shaking her head.

“Sort of, what?”

“Understands,” Tracy finished.

Gordo furrowed his brow. “Really?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Tracy said. “I’m pissed about the whole thing. But I get her reasoning. It wasn’t about Danny.”

“What was it about?”

“Karen. And Ed, somewhat.”

“Okay,” Gordo said, dragging out the sound a bit. He didn’t understand, but he waited to let her explain.

“She feels like her entire life has revolved around Ed and his career. Still revolves around Ed and his career. She’s never really had anything of her own, away from him. Something she can get excited about on her own.”

“What about the bar?”

“It’s an astronaut bar,” Tracy reminded him.

“Right.”

“It’s still very central to Ed’s world. And she just feels sort of...stuck, I guess. That’s what I took from her explanation.”

Gordo nodded slowly. He understood that feeling well. After he and Tracy had gotten divorced, that was exactly how he had felt. Stuck. And then when she had gotten remarried, that had pushed him over the edge. He had realized just how alone he was – with Tracy starting her new life with Sam, and his kids growing up and having their own lives away from home. Gordo had been ground-bound for nearly a decade, had drown himself in the bottle, and had spiraled deeper and deeper into depression.

He had told Ed something similar that night on the road months earlier. He had told Ed that he was stuck, that the past wouldn’t let him go, that he had left something up at Jamestown, and that he felt like he didn’t exist anymore.

“I guess she’s been unhappy for a while,” Tracy continued. “So, when Danny showed interest in her, it lit some kind of spark for her.” Tracy shrugged. “Not because of Danny himself. But because his interest made her feel good about herself again. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time, apparently.”

“So, it wasn’t about Danny?”

Tracy shook her head. “But I hate that she used him that way.”

“Yeah,” Gordo agreed quietly, picturing how upset Danny had looked during their talks about what had happened and how Karen didn’t feel the same way about him.

“I don’t think she meant to use him that way. She said she didn’t realize how strong Danny’s feelings for her were until afterwards.”

Gordo nodded. He looked at Tracy again, studying her face. She looked back at him.

“How are you feeling about it?” Gordo asked. “I mean, she’s your friend. Or...was.”

“Yeah,” Tracy uttered. “She was. Maybe still is. I don’t know yet. I’m still trying to process. It’s a lot.”

“It is.”

“I guess what I’m most upset about is the fact that Danny got hurt in all of it.”

Gordo nodded his agreement.

“But from what she told me, she never meant for that to happen. According to her, she didn’t even know how he felt about her. She thought that he had gone into it with the same mindset that she had, and then she found out after the fact that he had these strong feelings for her.”

“Right.”

“Maybe I can forgive her someday,” Tracy said. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” Gordo said, watching her closely. He hated that she was upset. That she and her best friend were on the outs. He knew how that was. Gordo and Ed had had their fair share of arguments and fights over the years, but neither had ever betrayed the other quite like Karen had done to Tracy. He knew something like that would be difficult to forgive.

“So, tell me about your night,” Tracy said. “Sorry. I kind of hijacked the conversation.”

“It’s all right,” Gordo said with a small smile. “Ed’s just upset about how things are going with Karen. I guess she is planning to go to business school or something. He’s afraid she’s just going to up and leave him.”

“Oh,” Tracy said. “Yeah. She mentioned something about that. About going back to school.”

Gordo nodded. “And with Kelly off to Annapolis next year, he’s afraid he’s going to be alone.”

“He won’t be alone,” Tracy said. “Kelly will still come back home to visit.”

“Of course she will,” Gordo said. “But I get it.” He paused. “I’ve been through the same thing.”

Tracy looked at him, furrowing her brow. “What do you mean?”

Gordo offered a small, wry smile. “After our divorce, and then when Danny was gone during his first year at the Naval Academy.” He shook his head. “Jimmy was still here, but I couldn’t help but think about what things would be like once he started college. Especially if it was out of state.”

Tracy nodded her understanding.

“I didn’t have a purpose of my own – I hadn’t been on a mission in nearly ten years – and I just felt kind of lost and lonely.”

Tracy frowned, softly saying, “I’m sorry, Gordo.”

He shook his head. “I brought most of it on myself.”

“Still,” Tracy said. “That doesn’t mean I’m happy that you were so upset.”

He smirked. “Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

She chuckled softly. Then, her expression turned more serious again as she asked, “How are you doing with it now?”

“I’m okay,” Gordo said, and he meant it. “Going back to the moon – even as crazy and terrifying as that turned out – gave me a renewed sense of purpose. I feel more like my old self again. Yeah, I miss Danny when he’s gone. And I’ll miss Jimmy too, if he decides to go away for school. But I feel like I can handle it now.”

“You were always good at adapting to new and changing situations,” she said with a small smile. “I’m glad to see you’ve gotten that back.”

“Thanks,” Gordo said. “Me too.”

She reached out and took his right hand with her left, holding it on the couch cushion between them. He looked down at their intertwined fingers, noticing that her wedding ring was missing. His heart leapt for a moment. Of course, he already knew that Tracy and Sam had split up, but something about her no longer wearing her wedding ring made it feel more official to Gordo.

He took a deep breath and then looked up at Tracy, offering a small smile. After a few quiet moments, he said, “Speaking of new and changing situations…”

Tracy lifted her eyebrows in question.

Gordo lowered his gaze to their hands. He gently rubbed his thumb over her bare ring finger.

“Oh,” Tracy uttered. “Yeah.”

Gordo waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. Softly, he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shrugged a shoulder, and he thought she was going to say no.

“I just figured I ought to give it back to him,” she said instead.

“But it’s yours, right?” Gordo said. “I mean, when you and I got divorced, you kept your ring.”

“That’s different.”

“Why?” Gordo asked gently. He was glad to hear it. Glad to know that she felt differently about him than she did Sam.

“Because you and I were married forever. Sam and I have only been married for about a minute and a half.”

“Mm. True. But it’s still yours.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind giving it back.”

“Wait,” Gordo said. “Did he ask you to?”

“No. He wouldn’t do that. I just figured…” She trailed off and sighed, shaking her head.

“What?”

“I don’t know. You and I—We were married for so long. We had these boys together. We had a life together for a really long time.” She paused before adding, “Sam and I…” She looked at Gordo then. “It’s already over before it ever really started. I feel like this marriage between him and me—We never got a chance to really live it.”

Gordo nodded his understanding.

“You and me—We gave our marriage a real shot. Even after everything, we still tried.”

“Yeah,” Gordo whispered, eyes locked on Tracy’s.

“That’s not the case with me and Sam.”

“I get it,” Gordo said.

“I mean,” Tracy began, humor entering her voice. “It’s not that I wouldn’t want the ring. It’s gorgeous.”

“And massive,” Gordo said with a small smirk. “I’m surprised you could even lift your hand with that thing on it.”

Tracy chuckled. “Yeah, it was pretty big.”

“Did you pick it out?” Gordo asked.

“No. Sam did. I didn’t even know he was going to propose.”

“Right,” Gordo uttered. He recalled having found out about the proposal while watching Tracy’s talk show appearance months earlier. “So, if you had picked out a ring yourself…”

Tracy held his gaze for a long moment. “You already know what it would have been.”

Gordo smiled. “I do,” he said softly. “I know you very well.”

Tracy nodded. “And I know you.”

“Do you still have it?” Gordo asked. “Your first wedding ring.”

The corners of Tracy’s mouth turned upwards. “Do you still have yours?”

“Of course.” Gordo smiled. “It’s in the drawer beside my bed.”

“Jewelry box on my dresser,” Tracy said.

“Until Sam finds it and throws it out or sells it.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” Tracy said. “He’ll leave my stuff as it is until I go get it.”

“When will that be?” Gordo asked curiously.

“Not sure. Maybe this weekend. I don’t know. It feels too soon, but I really do need some of my stuff.”

Gordo nodded. “Well, let me know if I can help.”

“Thanks, Gordo,” Tracy said with a small smile as she squeezed his hand.

“You’re welcome.” He paused before changing subjects. “And in other new and changing situations,” he said.

Tracy eyed him with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. “What now?”

He smiled. “Well, I sort of invited Ed and Kelly to stay here for a while.”

“Oh,” she said, surprise in her voice as though that wasn’t what she had been expecting him to say. “Okay.”

“He said he’ll think about it. But if they do come, it’s going to be kind of tight quarters, and I, uh—I guess I wanted to ask you how you felt about bunking with me again so that they can have Danny’s room.”

“Oh,” Tracy uttered again. “Do you think they’re going to be okay sleeping in Danny’s room with all this drama going on between him and Karen?”

Gordo shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought about that. Maybe we could have Jimmy move into Danny’s room instead, and Ed or Kelly could take Jimmy’s.”

“Oh, he’s going to love that,” Tracy said, her words laced with sarcasm.

“He’ll be okay,” Gordo said. He knew Jimmy wouldn’t be thrilled about moving out of his bedroom, but Gordo knew he would adapt as well. “But I understand if it’s weird for you,” he added, referring to Tracy bunking with him again. “I can, I don’t know, get an air mattress or something and sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Tracy shook her head. “I’ve slept in your bed before. It’s not a big deal.”

He smiled. “Okay.”

“This was your plan wasn’t it?” she asked with a teasing smirk. “To invite Ed and Kelly to stay here so that you and I would have to share a bed again.”

Gordo chuckled. “No, but that would have been a good plan.”

Tracy laughed and squeezed his hand.

[arrthurpendragon]

@megraen - I saw your fic and made you a little something. Hope you like it!

[lesbian-ponyboy-curtis]

i rarely update fics this fast so don't get used to it but uhhhhhh here ya go

[staygoldsunsets]

some shameless self promo... this is the first fic i've posted in 3 years, please be gentle!

[stirringwinds]

WIP

a scene from a fic i’m currently working on set in may 1861, exploring british-american relations during the american civil war. cw for injury mention and real-life historical events. “maría” is mexico. 

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

“Still a lying old bastard through and through, aren’t you?” Alfred hisses. “What comes next? Recognition of statehood, of course. Don’t think I’m oblivious to how some of your people are absolutely giddy at the thought of my undoing. Good riddance to the vulgar mob rule that goes by the name of American democracy, etcetera etcetera.”

“Unhand me at once,” Arthur hisses.  “Conduct yourself with some of the dignity I raised you to have, will you?”

“Glad to know you haven’t changed one bit, Lord Father. Good manners rank above morals, honour and any sense of integrity, as always, with you,” Alfred’s smile is dark and bitter, but he releases his grip, flings Arthur’s wrist aside. There’s something like sheer hatred now, in his face, but his voice is low, almost quiet. “And don’t talk about dignity, when you made me this way; you, and all your people’s bullshit. I didn’t have a choice when you claimed me at Jamestown—”

“I made you this way? It’s been almost a hundred years since you've thrown away my name, in case you’ve forgotten,” Arthur cuts in. There’s something simmering and furious boiling up—that Alfred always so easily drew out of him. Yorktown. A shot to the jaw, dead-on. He’d coughed out blood and teeth and bone in front of his men. “Do I make you do anything anymore? Did you not loudly and proudly announce yourself as a naval power? That huge uproar you created in the Far East? Bragging to me how you’d finally matched my feats, dragging another Old World nation out of isolation to rejoin the international community on the threat of war and glories of foreign commerce?”

The fingers of Arthur’s left hand curl inadvertently around his teacup. It’s burning hot. He continues. “And at Jamestown, I saved you. Gave you my name and my protection! When they would have cast you out! Left you to die—”

“Saved? I was a prize! For your ambition!” This now, from Alfred, is a shout, thunderous and furious. “Antonio had María, and you wanted to match that! Because being an insignificant, fuckin’ shitheap island with nothing else to your glorified name was too much for your overblown ego. It never is for you diseased, miserable Old World bastards. And I disappointed you at first, didn’t I? No gold, no riches, just famine and—”

“Ambition? Overblown ego? You certainly aren’t short of it yourself, Alfred,” Arthur sneers. His heart thunders in his breast, and he feels at once hot and icy cold. Oh, he’s just like me. Not at all in appearance—but in the soul. So much like me. All that hungry ambition, and always compulsively cruel in our vulnerability. He levels Alfred with a cool stare. “And speaking of María—” He doesn’t miss the way his eldest son flinches, that exact same way he did as a boy—“you chose to go to war with her, you alone—and now the land you seized from her in your victory has torn you asunder, isn’t that right?”