#like im trying to rationalize that people are going through worse in other countries and have problems bigger than mine and more real

[evermoredeluxe]

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[inahandful-of-dust]

Lumi's Library - Grishaverse Section

List of my favourite fics from The Grishaverse fandom.

New fics I discover and recommend will be added to this post, or to the others I'll make, based on the fandom.

The fics are listed in a completely casual order.

The Demon, the Dragon, and the Dark by storm-elf

Summary of the first part of the series:

The Black General. The bastard prince. It's a dangerous alliance in a garrison realm caught between two aggressive enemies. With a cowardly drunkard of a king on the throne, and the heir apparent more interested in whores and horse-racing, the country's safety has to depend on someone -- and Aleksander Morozova, Shadow-Summoner and Shadow King of Ravka, is all too used to responsibility falling to him. As threats close in on two frontiers, he will risk anything to protect his people, especially Grisha like himself. He'd like to find a way to maintain his country's independence with the help of the bold, brave, and brilliant second prince. But, if he has to, he'll take a different road and become history's villain again to do it.

*

Our Lines in the Sand by GaleSentinal

In which being an orphan, a soldier, and a cartographer is more integral to Alina’s identity and she pays attention to the world around her. Meanwhile spending some 400 years in power confers certain advantages to the Darkling, but also certain blind spots. In this fight to secure a better tomorrow, both will be confronted with the same question: What are they willing to sacrifice in order to win?

A reworking of the series from the ground up, where the politics are more realistic, grisha abilities are more than just magic artillery, people aren't inexplicably stupid, the religion and history are more present, everyone has an agenda, everyone has their secrets, and imperfect people love, struggle, laugh, fight and strive for a world that they can live with.

*

En Passant by darkestelemental616

Prince. Privateer. Grisha. Nikolai Lantsov is full of secrets, and the biggest one he's ever kept is about to be dragged kicking and screaming into the light.

Or, what if Nikolai were also a Sun Summoner, and much more canny about it?

*

Roll for Seduction by DukeOfDucks

Nikolai Lantsov was having a good time, steadily progressing through his Politics & International Relations degree, until Aleksander Morozova happened. Morozova had no business being in one of his classes, but here he was, and now all Nikolai can do is try to vicariously seduce him through his evil wizard character using the charms of his half-pirate half-prince bastard character. Which, in hindsight, and considering the rather impressive amount of Nat 1 he rolled, was going pretty well.

*

for they shall inherit the earth (but first, Ravka) by bam_cassopeia

There are many ways to poison a Lantsov, and Yevgeniya Sergeyevna Safina is an expert on them all.

(or: the one one in which Genya kills three out of four, the Darkling is like *wipes a tear* my best student so far im so proud, David Kostyk has a crush, the Apparat is high on mushrooms, and Alina Starkov ends up in West Ravka.)

*

Souvenirs of War by CamilleDuDemon

When Aleksander is done talking, Nikolai allows himself to relax a little into the lumpy pillows someone has placed behind his back; there are no princes or dukes or counts on the battlefield, only soldiers, and he gets to be treated accordingly. No fatter rations, no better cots. Not to mention that a very few noblemen and aristocrats have chosen to serve in the infantry, and this could be one of the many reasons why equity and equality are so valued within its ranks. It’s fine. Nikolai likes it better to be a nobody rather than a prince and a granduke, it saves him a lot of time in listing his titles and spares him the resentful glares of peasant or lower class soldiers, notoriously disaffected with the Monarchy.

*

wedding night by Anonymous

His new husband - a clearly unamused Darkling - was being gentle with him, which only made matters worse. He unpinned the jewelry from his hair, and did not raise an eyebrow when the hair extensions Fabrikators had made fell alongside the golden pins.

*

The Names By Which We Are Created by Poeticdissonance

In the end, they are victorious.

Or: The development of what should have been a tragedy.

*

Last night sipped the sunset, my hand in her hair by Silberias

Alina cast an arch look at his flowers.

“Oksana picked those this morning for her Grace,” she said, a hint of a tease in her words.

“I admit I did knick them from her parlor on my way here. It did not feel right to come without flowers.”

Or: The Tsar tests his shadow summoner, and in response the Darkling makes an impulsive choice that changes the known world.

Or: Alina's perspective of being courted by and marrying the Darkling of Ravka.

Or: Alina's eleven years of being the otkazat'sya wife of General Kirigan, the famed shadow summoner, and the revelation that she herself is a myth made flesh.

*

you're so golden by zoyalinayay

Nikolai Lantsov was officially broke.

After being kicked out of his parent's home he models for art students to help pay his rent. He finds himself posing for Aleksander, a talented young man who spikes Nikolai’s interest despite Nikolai promising he would keep himself away from new love interests.

[It's a work in progress. Just for fun and comfort.]

*

Spreading Sugar Over Lakes by darkestelemental616

Winter comes to Ravka, and everyone is out ice skating...with one notable exception.

*

i feel the endless pain of being (and i am scorched by the sun) by hedarising

“And what’s he then that says i play the villain?” Othello Act 2, Scene 3

. . .

Name after name, life after life, he endures.

. . .

His mother has the force of history—of the way things have always been done—behind her. For now, he has nothing but the feathery, fickle weight of the future and things yet to pass.

Hope, he might call it, if he were someone else’s son.

. . .

OR: The many (seven, to be exact) lives of Aleksander Morozova.

[plush-rabbit]

Coping with Homelessness

Request: So I'm homeless now aaaaaand to cope, can I get request Shigaraki, Dabi, and Mr Compress finding out their boyfriend is homeless?

A/N: Please take care of yourself! Im sure there are places you can go and people you can ask for help! Agencies, family, friends, just take care of yourself and one step at a time! (this is written before they met the league (dabi and compress) and shig’s is written after the kamino since thats when they lost their main base/house

-

Dabi:

A big part of his life was shaped from how he survived for so long. Dabi has faced homelessness and he knows about all the little things that could prove to be helpful. Being homeless isn’t easy- especially in a country where it’s looked down upon and isn’t like in other countries. There is no begging for money, there is no sleeping under a highway or behind a building; it’s sleeping by the river, staying hidden and trying to not inconvenience the working class. He faced homelessness when he had absolutely nothing and no one on his side, and because he cares for you, he’ll help you out.

There’s a big shift that comes from having a home and knowing that you’ll have a roof over your head, to nothing, to the fear of not knowing where you’ll sleep, the shame that fills one in having to know that wealth can be so easily taken away. He understands coming from wealth and having it burn at your fingertips. He understands your first few days of panic and dread and will be by your side a large majority of the time, not wanting you to be alone if this is your first time. He’s done this all before and he’ll help you out. He’ll find places for the both of you to crash where you can sleep without the worry of school children throwing rocks or the elements from the outdoors. Finding a place first, is the most important step in his eyes.

Due to quirks and the arise of people using them for bad, it’s common to find a few places that don’t discriminate based on who you are. Of course, it can only go so far, so when you bring in a man who has a body count, he has to stay behind or hide his appearance the best he can. He knows quite a few places where the food is edible, and the people are nice. You can’t be picky when you don’t have a home and it might take a bit of getting used to, but it’s manageable for the most part.

You’re his partner, he’s going to keep you around and take care of you. It hinders his ideals a bit to make sure that you’re safe, but he doesn’t mind. You both stick together and that’s what matters. Joining the League is a new home and with the promise of knowing that you all protect each other and handle difficulties together, it’s easier to handle the weight and shift of becoming homeless. He doesn’t want you to go through it alone, not like when he had to at such a young age. Plus, you’re young, and you know more than he did when he first left his home, you’ll have an easy time getting back on your feet. He’ll support you from the sidelines and make sure that you have everything that you need- or at least most of it.

It isn’t easy, and it’s all so new to you, but Dabi is there. He can act like he’s indifferent to the entire situation, but he cares. Your needs will always be met before his. He’ll let you sleep for a long time, not wanting for you to wake up and protect your stuff from going missing. He’ll let you take the bigger portion of a meal, and get in line before him when you go to gather supplies from social workers. He can go a day without eating if it means that you get to eat most things. There’s a bright side to a lot of things, and being with him, is a bright side of its own. He’s ruthless and has a flame quirk that will keep you both warm and provide light. There’s hardly any attack from the others that you do run across, but just in case, he’s there.

Sako Atsuhiro:

There’s always a plus side to keeping your identity hidden from the public for so long, and one of those is that you’re harder to find. The world can know his name, but his face remains a mystery and because of that, it’s easy to find places to keep the both of you safe. He’s been homeless before, had his few run-ins where he kept having to move. He knows what to do, and where it's safest to go. Atsuhiro knows that it isn’t easy and that it can be scary, but you aren’t alone in the affair, you have him and he just happens to be a showman whose quirk is helpful in gathering items that you need. There may be a whole security system to prevent people from stealing, but he isn’t like the others. If you ever need something, he’ll go into any store and leave with marbles in his pockets. You won’t go without anything when you’re with him.

He’s been homeless before and certainly knows what it's like, but once more, his quirk proves to be useful. It’s easy for him to blend in and hide you with him. He can sneak somewhere without being caught and will gladly bring you along with him. People don’t know his face, and as far as he’s concerned, you haven’t committed any type of crime, so it’s easy for the both of you to still go out and receive supplies from people who work at shelters or even spend a night there.

It’s no surprise that people can be cruel, and in the community of those that are homeless, there are a few bad seeds, but most people are trying to survive and be kind. It’s the citizens that believe they are better than others that you have to watch for. He’ll do his best to protect you and oftentimes, it means having to marble you away to avoid you getting mugged or at least protecting your things.

When the weather gets colder, he’ll offer to marble you for a bit so you aren’t exposed to the cold. Worry will consume him when you’re tucked away in his pocket, your marble pinched between his index and thumb as he stays up. He’s careful with you, so delicate as to not accidentally break you or release you from your glass entrapment. When you’re in there, it’s harder to protect you, but at least you aren’t in any danger from the outside and he already protects you when you’re so big, so this is nothing. He doesn’t want you to be out here, to worry and panic when you don’t know when your next meal will be, he’s got you right here, in his fingertips.

If you rather not be trapped inside of a marble, he only shrugs. He has a smug grin on his face and he acts hurt, but he understands. However, it’s still cold and you need to be protected before him. He’ll pull you close and wrap his coat around your shoulders and give you his gloves. The cold affects Atsuhiro a bit worse given his injury, but he won’t say anything about it; his main goal is to protect you. He’ll hold your hands in his and breathe war air against your palms as you try to fall asleep. It’s difficult, but you’re with him and he’s going to protect you for as long as he can. He doesn’t want this life for you, and he’ll always encourage you to take any opportunity that falls on your lap. He can be damned, but you deserve to have a home and a life.

Shigaraki Tomura:

Surprisingly, it’s Tomura that knows very little about being homeless. There was a point where as a child he wandered the streets, but that is such a distant memory that he can barely recall it. It’s only after the Kamino Incident, that he experiences being homeless. It’s new to him, and he doesn’t know what to do, but he’s a fighter, and he’s survived it. He had the League with him, and you not only have him, but you also have the League. He’s going to take care of you and try to give you what you need.

It’s a lot more difficult for him to blend into society given his quirk and appearance, but you aren’t like him. In his free time- before any of the League activities happened- he would frequent internet cafés where it was common to find people sleeping on the couches for a low fee. It might be scary, but you just have to hold onto your possessions as tight as you can. It’s warm and safe from the elements, and it’s better than what he can provide. He has run down buildings, but you can at least have air conditioning where you aren’t dying from the heat. If you rather not, then he understands, He won’t push for you to sleep or stay where you don’t want to. He’ll take care of you and will keep you with him at that point.

He tries to not care, to be apathetic to you, but he cares so much. He’ll tell you that being homeless isn’t rare, and that it is a very real possibility that people rather not think about, but he never expected it to happen to you. He understands that it’s difficult to not have the things that you normally had at your touch, after the incident he lost a lot of his belongings, so he gets it. It takes him a bit of getting used to learning how to be nice and empathetic rather than telling you to get over it, but he learns, and he’ll nod and offer some words of encouragement that when everything is done, he’ll get you better versions of what you had before. At the end of he say, he cares, and he'll show his true colors after a sad look.

You will come first for him- always. He’ll give you a share of his rations, will make sure that when you two go and look for food, it’s you who gets the biggest cut. He’ll do his best to put you first for whatever he can get a hold of. Food is difficult to come by after a while and with his notoriety, you can’t really be picky. However, the amount of effort he will put in for you to look for food that he knows that you like or can stomach, is outstanding. He wants what is best for you and will always give you that. Whatever he can get a hold of, will be yours before it can be anyone else’s.

With you being one of the few people that he cares for in the world, he tries to do a lot for you. There is hardly a time where he will not fight with and for you. It’s you that he puts first, even before himself, and he’ll always make that wherever you sleep for the night, you have the soft side of the bed, or the softest couch, or the one with less springs. Tomura isn’t a romantic by any means, but he really does care a lot for you. He won’t show it in the traditional sense with flowers or sweets, but he will show it by giving you what he can. Once he has the Paranormal Liberation Front, he gives you so much. It’s almost as if he’s trying to make up for the time where he couldn’t give you everything.

[halorocks1214]

the law of relativity

AO3 Link

Word Count: 9963

Summary: The Law of Relativity states that each person will receive a series of problems (‘tests of initiation’) for the purpose of strengthening the ‘light’ within. We must consider each of these tests to be a challenge and remain connected to our hearts when proceeding to solve the problems. This law also teaches us to compare our problems to others’ problems and put everything into its proper perspective. No matter how bad we perceive our situation to be, there is always someone who is in a worse position. It is all relative

Previous Parts (in order): Alan | Virgil | You are here! | Gordon

WHY 👏🏼 CANT 👏🏼 I 👏🏼 WRITE 👏🏼 FICS 👏🏼 IN 👏🏼 MO 👏🏼 DER 👏🏼 RATION 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼 also just bluuuergh. dont ask about this fic. part of it was written in a dark auditorium, another was written in a different state, another was written on a frickin bus, this fic has been places ill tell you what. half the time i think this is hot garbage and the other half i think its actually decent so im posting this while my head is in a good headspace and then promptly yeeting myself off the internet for a few hours to wait and see what happens. this series is becoming less of a canon divergence AU and more of a straight-up AU because of certain details im trying to worm in there buT IM TRYING MY BEST

thanks once more to @gumnut-logic, because of the length, this time i used three prompts, them being "What do you mean?", crease, and dream (and they werent even used that much sksksksk)

Warnings for both graphic and non-graphic depictions of violence, as well as mentions of torture and other PTSD/panic attack related stuff. I went deep with this one fellas

Orphan.

The word tasted dirty in his mouth.

He can still see the footage in the backs of his eyelids from when he watched it exactly one year ago. He was the only other (living) adult at the time in the family outside of Grandma, so he was permitted to see it. He remembered they originally didn’t want to show him, mainly because of his age, but Grandma was fierce, and she put one hell of an argument on the table.

One Scott refused to let fall through the cracks by breaking down. If only Grandma knew how he cried his eyes out and screamed to high heaven that night in the hotel room after essentially watching his father be blown to bloody smithereens then she was a goddamn saint for keeping it a secret. It made sense, she was the mother to his father. She had quite the line up of stories from Jeff’s childhood. Scott sensed the early-greying of his hair came from her, heh.

The rest of his family eventually saw it, of course, they did. Scott couldn’t shield them forever. What he will protect, selfishly he might add, was how angry he was at how much better they took it than he did. They cried, yes they did, but they never fully broke down like Scott did. Later in life, he wondered if it was jealousy: jealousy at not truly being able to let go. Whatever it was, he made sure to swallow it along with whatever alcohol he chose for the weekend.

Just add it to the ever-growing pile of shit he had to deal with. Nothing new.

Suddenly he’s 20 again and seated in a plane to be taken to his first stint in the Air Force. He said his goodbyes to Virgil, Gordon, and Alan back at home while Grandma and John metaphorically held his hand all the way to the airport. John was… quiet, more so than usual, but Grandma was stuck right in the middle between being a sobbing mess and ecstatic at the fine young man he’s become.

You’re just like your father. He would be proud.

Scott was secretly glad she never physically said it. It gave him plausible deniability in thinking that those words weren’t laced behind her big, bright, prideful eyes.

The first time went well, maybe even great. He stayed for a couple of months, did some flight tests, and while the training was brutal, boy did he learn a lot. When he came back home it was to a family slowly stitching itself back together. Grandma was a full-time house member, Virgil had taken up painting, Gordon talked about potentially going back to his swim meets, and while Alan was still as silent as ever, he was perkier than when Scott last saw him.

It would be on and off for the next few years: a couple of months at home, slowly and painfully taking over the role their father had (he can’t remember when he essentially received joint custody of his younger siblings with Grandma, but hey, he’s not complaining), then a couple of months out at the Air Force base where he slowly climbed up the ranking platform. He became skillful, perhaps too skillful. When he got his rank of Captain he felt it was less of an honor and more of something they owed him.

He was getting cocky. Never enough to be a danger to his fellow men, but enough to be somewhat of an occasional annoyance. Charles smacked him upside the head more than once. It felt like the world was right-side-up for once. Scott made many-a-calls to John and Virgil, the former enjoying his first few rotations up in space and the latter squarely in the middle of college. Gordon was being offered sponsorships to hell and back, and Alan was quietly getting along with the other kids at his school. Grandma was on welcoming duty for Kayo, who was taking her slot in the Tracy family with grace, though, a warning that their family would take custody of her if something were to happen to her parents would have been nice, Dad.

Of course, nothing ever goes right for their family for too long.

Orphan.

Age 24, it was supposed to be a simple retrieval mission of civilians. Scott was put in charge of his squad and then some. At night, they rolled-- well, flew out to get the job done. Scott can’t even remember the country anymore when minding his own business. Australia? Finland? Perhaps Bangladesh? There was a place John was insistent Scott never do rescues in, Virgil tended to agree, and the eldest unhealthily let them banish him from ever stepping foot there without argument. He could never remember the name off the top of his head until John’s familiar International Rescue, we have a situation rung out in the living room followed by the name of the country.

He would immediately forget it later, trauma too strong, too volatile, but the way his heart stopped and his head shattered and the way he felt ice water rush down his back was a good enough reason to quietly leave the room and let John delegate the job to one of his brothers. Sometimes John found him retching in the toilet halfway through the mission. He made sure to always mute Scott’s wrist communicator, even if it was never turned on in the first place.

The plane touched down. Orders sent the ground team out. But then the ground team took longer than estimated. Scott tensely waited where he was told to. It wasn’t the first mission that took a little longer than predicted and knowing humans, it surely wouldn’t be the last. Then, words mixed with heavy static came over the radio. H--p. Co-- ---7--. --nd ba---p --me--at--y.

Scott sat tensely in his seat, remembering his orders and suddenly hating them. Radio back to home if the mission goes south. Well, it didn’t look like they had the radio anymore. Still didn’t hurt to try at least. Scott spoke the familiar protocol that was ingrained into him when trying to call base. Dammit. Nothing. Probably some kind of blocker of sorts. Sitting up straight as a board, Scott looked through his options.

… He was in charge here. If something happened to his team the fault would lie squarely on his shoulders. Going against everything but his gut, he went out to help his squad. He can’t really remember what he exactly did anymore, but he does remember that it made a noise. Like a Looney Tunes scene: he flinched, froze, waited to see if anything or one heard, breathed a sigh of relief, and continued.

He eventually stumbled across one of his closest comrades, Arnold Brigeets. Yes, the name was ironic and half the reason he joined the force in the first place. The guy was one of the people that actually trained Scott and also seemed to be one of the few that was genuinely proud when Scott became a higher rank. It’s why Scott was more appreciative of Arnold than others, that, and well… Scott thought his fatherly abilities were good. The guy did have three kids back home.

Orphan.

Ducking down behind the cover his older friend was semi-situated behind, Scott watched as Arnold jumped at the intrusion before sighing. Scott had run into some enemies that he swiftly took down-- nothing too serious, he didn’t have the time or weapons for such an act, but they definitely would be out of it for a while-- so Arnold must have too on his way to find cover as well, hence why he was so on edge.

“Thank God,” Arnold wiped his forehead, “Glad to see you join us, kid.”

Scott was breathing heavily, but the grin he attempted was still there, “Y-Yeah, so what happened? More threats than we thought?”

Arnold shook his head, “Yes and no. There were a lot more baddies than we thought, but that’s because the civilians weren’t civilians. It’s a tr--”

Boom. The familiar sound of a gunshot.

Arnold fell over. Never got back up. Dropped like a rock in a lake, never to come up to the surface again.

Scott was so caught off guard he couldn’t react to the gun that swiftly beat him over the head, knocking him out cold. The only thing on his mind was oh fuck oh fuck I messed up I shouldn’t have come I wouldn’t have made any noise that way why did I--

They had him for roughly two weeks. Scott always thought the plotline in movies where the villain vehemently denied knowing any important information was dumb as hell. We’re not stupid. We wouldn’t go after someone if they didn’t know something.

The things they did hurt and no amount of I don’t fucking know anything! would help. Those two weeks were lost to Scott in a sea of pain and torment. The only thing he remembered was being captured, then waking up in a hospital drugged up to his gills with his superiors staring at him like he cured cancer.

“You saved the rest of your squad from sharing the same fate as the first half.”

“I-I did?”

“You betcha, son. I only wish I was there to see it! People be saying you were like an animal in how you took ‘em all down.”

Scott’s never remembered, and he wanted to keep it that way.

He was given the highest honors, even the chance to skip a couple of ranks to be at the same level as the big boys, but the night they were going to share the news to the golden boy himself, they found him in one of the bathrooms with a bloody hand and a mirror shattered with no hope of fixing it.

He was honorably discharged to a family that was so thankful he was home. Words like missing in action and POA never stopped haunting their nightmares. Scott was too, God, of course, he was, but sitting around and doing nothing was the last thing his traumatized mind wanted or maybe even needed. After doing what he considered to be the biggest fuck-up of his life, he needed to feel important.

This isn’t the first time he’ll say this and it surely won’t be the last: thank Christ for Grandma.

“You want me to take over?...”

“Yep, it’s about time Tracy Industries received a new pair of eyes. The Board certainly thinks so.”

“But… they’d rather have a crazy, PTSD-infected veteran over you?”

A rough pinch to his ear, “Hey now, don’t call yourself that,” the gentle motherly tone was back as soon as it left, “Besides, that crazy might exactly be what they want. Half of their argument is that I “don’t take enough risks.” They’re getting tired of listening to an old fart like me.”

A moment of contemplation, followed by the cheeky raise of an eyebrow, “So you’re saying you want me to take so many risks they have no choice but to take you back?”

A bark of laughter, “Damn straight.”

He learned the ropes faster than normal (healthy, is probably the correct term), and he immediately won the hearts of both young and old in the company. Instead of flying planes every few months, he worked on business reports and vetoed new ideas every couple of weeks. It felt satisfying for the most part, and his family was just happy he was still alive to enjoy it.

However, there was a slight roadblock on his way to becoming a somewhat stable person.

He became prone to violent blackouts. It had to have started when he blacked out and saved himself from those two weeks of hell, which made the most sense. Something was always destroyed when he came back to life. John was the best at calming him down due to his own experience with panic attacks, however, John couldn’t always be there, and the next rotation for NASA was coming swiftly. Scott swore up and down he would be fine, he could figure something out. John went back into space with an eyebrow permanently raised.

It was just him and Virgil home (Grandma had taken Alan and Kayo to watch Gordon swim) when he, unfortunately, proved John right. Scott wasn’t sure what triggered it, but he vividly remembered coming back in Virgil’s extremely tight hold. The first thing Scott thought to say was damn, beanstalk, when did you get so strong? but then he laid his eyes upon the forming bruise on his younger bro’s face and hasn’t recovered since.

Virgil swore he never held it against Scott. Scott definitely thought he should have.

That night brought sudden clarity to Scott that he was doing this horribly wrong. He was a ticking time bomb, and it wouldn’t be long before something was damaged in a way that couldn’t be fixed. Scott needed an anchor. Something to ground him before he took it too far. John wasn’t going to be earthside forever, Grandma was busy with Kayo, Alan was just a kid, and Gordon was living the dream. None of them were viable.

Then, as he was thinking, he was suddenly aware of how calming Virgil’s arms were around him, how they were preventing the growing panic attack in his chest from getting even bigger.

It was easy.

For once in Scott’s life, his eyes were big and young as he asked Virgil, “Help me, please.”

After a few brief seconds, Virgil gulped, “Okay.”

From then on, Virgil was Stone Number One. Scott’s admiration for Virgil outweighed the guilt of putting the black-haired man in that position in the first place. Virgil was glad to follow his older brother’s leadership, but just as qualified to bring him the hell back when he went too far. From getting too sacrificial to preventing a good punching-out some of the idiots they dealt with, Virgil made sure Scott knocked that shit off.

Time went on, Scott was a top-notch CEO at Tracy Industries, John was having one hell of a time up in space, Virgil was graduated and had so many life opportunities to pick from, Alan was thriving at being a (mostly) stable kid, Kayo was 100% acclimated to the family, and Gordon--

Scott found himself gripping the wooden desk very abruptly. He was shocked he didn’t snap a chunk off in the process. Why was he thinking about this right after a giant business conference? Who knows at this point. If this giant origin story seemed jagged and jumpy, maybe even somewhat vague, good, that’s how it fucking felt.

Back to said story.

Scott always thought he and Gordon would have the least amount in common.

They do, but out of all the things they could have picked to be similar, why did it have to be the PTSD caused by military-related jobs? Scott was 24 when he got his, Gordon was just under 20. It may have been a few years since their respective accidents, but they’re never going to go another day without it feeling like it was just yesterday.

At this point, Gordon was up and walking again, mainly thanks to John and Alan while Virgil and Scott helped in their own ways. Grandma’s cooking was what probably motivated him the most though, ha, the need to get away from it… Scott smiled. Grandma was always a constant. Honestly, if it weren’t for her, the family might have fallen apart. Literally.

What has he been saying throughout this whole shindig? Thank Christ for Grandma.

One day out of the blue, Grandma reserved the entire family (yes, even Kayo and Alan) private plane tickets so they could spend some time on the mainland for a few days. Honestly, even if the island wasn’t getting major renovations, you hooligans need to get out more. Have some fun. Try not to kill anything, especially each other, she all told them while creepily grinning. John and Virgil smacked Gordon more than once on the plane for insisting that she finally snapped, dudes, she’s gonna kill us.

Most of the time during their little vacation, Scott heavily focused on his breathing. He was pretty sure he knew what she was doing. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous, but the same went for his excitement.

Dad showed him these plans the day after his 18th birthday. You’re a man now, Scotty, I need your help making this big boy decision with me.

As soon as they reset foot down on the island, Scott took a deep breath and felt relaxed at the salty taste in the air. It was weird, nothing on the outside was changed, and yet… it still felt different.

“Guys!” Virgil yelled out, “Stop playing in the water! We just got back, aren’t you two tired?!”

Blinking back to reality, Scott looked over to see his two youngest brothers doing exactly what Virgil was yelling at them for. Poor Johnny was a little damp too, which is what probably caused Virgil to shout at them in the first place. The blondes didn’t care. They continued to prance around in the shallow waves with their pants legs rolled up, acting as if they didn’t hear anything outside of their laughter. Gordon shoved his hands down into the liquid and threw some directly at Alan, nailing him right in the face.

Scott exhaled slowly. He couldn’t imagine them doing this 8 years ago.

Regardless, the artist was right, and they couldn’t waste too much time. Kayo was swift in grabbing both gentlemen by the ears and dragging them onto dry land. They all painstakingly trekked their way up to the-- what would you call Tracy Island? Mansion? Over-blown cabin? Well, whatever it was, Scott would always be willing to call it home.

Stepping inside, each brother took in the view, which was underwhelmingly not that much different, except for one tiny thing. John suddenly noticed a figure already standing in the living room and blinked, “No way… it’s--”

Gordon jumped in, both with his body and his words, “Brains?! Dude, how’s it hanging?!”

The scientist in question jumped at the voices before clearing his throat and readjusting his glasses, “O-Oh, hello again, T-Tracys. It’s good to see you all once more.”

Virgil slung an arm around his shoulder, ignoring the blatant squawk, “Man, how long has it been?! What made you finally decide to crawl out of your hole?”

Snickers came from all corners of the house. Brains stood up straighter, “W-Well, I was contacted b-by Mrs. Tracy over here with an offer I c-couldn’t turn down.”

Eyebrows tilted in all shapes and sizes. Someone cleared their throat. Everyone turned to look at Grandma once again, “I think if you all follow me, you’ll swiftly understand what I’m talking about.”

I already do, Scott thought matter-of-factly. John seemed to be understanding it now, Virgil was on the cusp of remembering what his father was hinting at for him, and Gordon was just as lost as Alan. It made sense, Jeff talked to all of them about it, but the oldest had seniority. The two youngest not remembering just by words was expected, especially since that was going to be rectified very quickly.

The hangar under the island was beautiful. Point blank. It smelt of iron and steel and grease and engine and that was the first time since Scott had been in the Air Force that he didn’t gag or flinch at the thought of flying something again. Scott had seen the plans his father drew. He assumed Jeff finished building it, but he never got to physically see it since…

In some ways, he was glad he didn’t. Now he got to experience it with (most of) his family, and that made it ten times better.

After letting them absorb the scenery, Grandma slowly turned around to look at them all, “You remember that dream your father had?”

The four oldest blinked, Kayo simply raised her eyebrows, meanwhile, Alan, being the teenager he was, didn’t read the emotion in the room, “Oh, yeah! Aunt Casey always talked about how he was going to “change the world” and stuff. What did he call it again?”

Scott felt way more confident than he had in a while, “International Rescue.”

Grandma nodded, gleeful at the happy look on her oldest and youngest grandsons’ faces, “Well, I’ve been thinking about some things. I know we don’t exactly worry about money, but after everything your father put into these girls… I’d hate for them to go to waste.”

The Tracy family jumped at that. John’s mouth was wide open in shock, yes, shock, “That station is still up there?”

Grandma sighed, “You mean ‘Five? Not for long. Not if we don’t send someone up there within the next few days.”

John blushed at the grin Grandma gave him. Clearing his throat, his big brain came to a startling conclusion, “Wait… you brought Alan along?”

The other big brothers in the room jumped at that. Kayo was the only one with enough balls to say the truth out loud, “Mrs. Tracy, I mean no offense, but he’s--”

“Just a kid?” Grandma smirked, “A kid that’s topped the VR charts for Intergalactic Fury for weeks straight while simultaneously getting nothing but A’s in his classes?”

Scott nodded slowly in comprehension. He remembered Alan talking about that game for a while. It was some kind of online racing simulator of sorts. Scott caught the prettiest string of words from Alan when going to bed one night. Nearly made him shit his pants. He made the kid promise to keep it PG-13 if he wanted to keep playing.

Still, the elders in the family slowly turned to look at the freckled boy with both shock and pride. Alan blinked with wide-eyed innocence, “But my English class is only at a B--”

“Shh, kiddo, I’m making a point,” Grandma rolled her eyes. The other brothers snickered. Yep, still Alan. Grandma sighed, “Now before you point out that video games are different, I know, but the difference between them and this is that video games don’t have some of the most talented older brothers in the world to guide him.”

Said older brothers jumped at the idea. Before any objection could be made, Grandma continued, “Besides, the GDF seemed to be okay with it. The Colonel was willing to oversee some of his training too.”

John flinched at that, “But IR is supposed to be independent!”

Grandma slightly frowned. She didn’t exactly like it either, “It still is, but in the world of business, compromises have to be made.”

Virgil huffed and crossed his arms, “Well, that’s… rough. Here I thought only Scott would have to deal with the bullshit of business.”

Grandma chuckled at the somewhat un-Virgil-like behavior, “It really is, Virgil. But about that Scott part,” she slowly turned to look at him and him only, “I hate to give you more work to do, but if you want to work within their restrictions?”

Suddenly every pair of eyes in the room was on the head of the family. Gulping, Scott looked down at his feet to think. It was a tense few moments, nobody sure what he was going to decide, least of all him, before the brunette cleared his throat and brought his face back up with a grin.

“Well then,” Scott turned to look at the bright tip of ‘One, chest fluttering with a feeling that became unfamiliar to him over the past few years, “I guess now it’s time to state the obvious.”

From then on, every time he loaded into that cockpit of his girl, he felt lighter than air.

“Thunderbirds are GO!”

Everything was okay again.

Mostly.

Orphan.

Scott took another sip of his whiskey and refocused on his reports.

---

Scott was in some kind of dissociative state the whole way home.

Alan doesn’t deserve this. He’s still a kid, barely an adult, and he’s going to go through utter hell because you screwed up. You were 24, Gordon was just under 20, Alan was barely 18. Alan’s going to get fucked up like you and it’s all your fault.

His movements were robotic and rigid. Anyone with a working eye could tell he was deep in shock and running on autopilot. Mostly Jeff. Especially Jeff. The rest of the brothers all noticed too, but they were also running on their own empty fuel tanks, so the only thing they could do was guilty send their older brother the occasional glance of pity and concern.

Jeff was going to need to talk to them about that. Somehow. Maybe he shouldn’t be the one to point it out since he feels just as bad. His sons were too much like him, sometimes, and that made his guilt burn all the same. He should’ve been there to warn his sons about the dangers of unnecessary guilt. Having that kind of guilt was a parent’s job, dammit, and maybe grandparents only occasionally.

But then he remembered where he’s been for the past 8 years and… who really was Alan’s parents anymore? His gut was screaming it sure as hell isn’t you, but he knew his sons would want him to step back into the role as soon as he was physically fit to do so, not just for Alan, but for themselves as well. They would deny it, but they probably just wanted to be kids again too, even if it was only brief, fleeting moments.

Who was to tell the protective, fatherly side of Jeff no to that? No better time to fix things like the present after all.

He saw Scott go up the stairs when they first stepped into the living room, so that’s where Jeff was going to go too. Footsteps light, Jeff retraced his eldest’s pathway to his bedroom. Only, he stopped before said bedroom. Unfavorable noises were coming from the closed bathroom door, and Jeff could only swallow whatever emotion it made him feel. Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened the (unlocked) door to the bathroom and laid his eyes upon the incriminating scene.

Jeff was met with the sight of Scott retching his entire stomach into the toilet, hands aggressively grabbing his sticky, hair-gelled hair and trying to make himself bald from the strain.

Jeff’s reaction was always based on autopilot, and it will never stop being so.

Ignoring his protesting body, Jeff kneeled and placed a hand on his son’s back, only to abruptly pull back like he touched a hot stove when Scott only got more hysterical at the contact. The brunette clenched his eyes shut even more (and they were already shut as much as possible) while his head became a special kind of crease. Like he was in pain, “God, I wanna go home. Why won’t they listen I swear I’m telling the truth! Please, I just want Dad--”

Jeff was frozen on the spot, heart stopping in the process. His brain shut down while he watched his son continue to mindlessly ramble and panic. His freaked-out mind barely registered footsteps from behind in the hallway, followed by a voice going what’s going-- holy--

Something thundered past him. Blinking once, Jeff guiltily watched as Virgil kneeled behind the eldest and wrapped his arms around the thin man’s shoulders while taking Scott’s hands in his in a protective blanket, “Scott! Jesus-- we’re at home, you’re safe and it’s June 14th, 2--”

Scott only struggled more, panicking at the fact he could no longer yank his hair out. Dammit, it was the only way he could feel in control, don’t take that away too! “No! I swear I’ve said everything! Please--”

Virgil immediately knew that this was one of those attacks that Scott wasn’t coming back down from with pure human intervention. Add-on the sight of his father’s big eyes signifying the man was at a loss at what to do, Virgil had no choice. He snapped loudly, remembering the comms were still on and only feeling slightly bad at the way Scott flinched in his arms, “Shit-- John! It’s Scott! Get the stuff! We’re in the upstairs bathroom!”

Muffled footsteps through a few walls in the house could be heard. Jeff’s mind was only starting to catch up when the brother Virgil called for came rushing into the bathroom (Jeff never remembered it being big enough to hold four of them) and ignoring Jeff (practically shoving him out of the way too, man, this was bad) on his way to the main problem at hand. Landing on his knees in a way that made Jeff wince, John gently grabbed one of Scott’s arms from Virgil’s hold and subsequently pulled a needle from nowhere and injected something into Scott.

The response was instantaneous.

Scott’s breathing, while still labored, got slower. He stopped struggling as well, and the way he sagged reminded Jeff of ice melting into a puddle. The two other brothers’ shoulders also sagged, relieved at the crisis averted. John stood up, knees cracking as he rubbed the back of his neck. Then, he froze at the sight of something in the doorway, “G-Gordon…”

Virgil snapped his head up from where he was looking at Scott. Jeff did something similar. Yup, in the doorway was the strawberry blonde, eyes wide, making him younger by about 10 years. The ex-Olympian in question inhaled, closed his eyes, and soon speed-walked his way out of the entrance to the bathroom. Dammit, neither Gordon or Alan have seen something like that and it probably spooked him more than anything. He’d understand with his own PTSD-related issues, but still, seeing the “never weak” big brother freak out in such a scary way...

John combed a hand through his hair, shaking his head. As he started walking out of the room, he whispered to himself, probably hoping no one heard him, “Dammit, this is all so fucked…”

Unfortunately, Jeff did hear, and the dirty language made the father flinch. John was always the best about making sure Grandma didn’t wash his mouth out with soap, and the fact that he so willingly didn’t care meant that everyone was at the end of their rope. Still reeling at the sight, Jeff couldn’t react to the gentle arms that picked him up off the floor and slowly led him out of the suddenly stuffy room.

With the click of the door shutting, Jeff realized what Virgil did, “W-Wait, Scott--”

“Will be okay for a few seconds,” Virgil finished for his dad, “I know it’s nearly been a decade, but the one part of you I definitely know hasn’t changed is the need to comfort us, just like we hoped.” The small grin that fell over the middle child’s face put Jeff a little bit at ease, but Virgil wasn’t completely done, “So, I’m going to let you take care of this, but I just want to make sure you’ll handle it with grace. Take this slowly, okay? Scott might be doped up, but he’s still… volatile, in a sense.”

Jeff cleared his throat, suddenly choking on the unneeded tension, “Okay, Virgil, I promise, just… what happened? That was… bad, and really bad at that too. I know Scott would never let something that severe willingly come out in front of his family.”

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, clearly not ready for this conversation, “Listen, Dad,” he inhaled sharply, cutting himself off before sighing in a way that said fuck it, might as well get this over with, “As much as it felt like it did, the world didn’t stop spinning because you… well, we had lives we somehow wanted to continue living. We all have lives and stories now, and this is Scott’s story to tell.”

Jeff was getting misty-eyed again. Back when he was just a kid, Virgil couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, mainly in part due to his insomnia-related issues (Jeff has to wonder if he still has them, more problems for the future) and general lack of filter because of sleep-deprivation. Now Jeff knew there was a starch difference between a kid who couldn’t keep his mouth shut and a man who genuinely knew how to respect another man’s privacy, but…

It just hammers home how much he’s missed with his boys. Gulping, Jeff made a mental note to talk with his mom about certain things he’s missed. She’ll know a lot more than he would, “Okay, Virge. Thank you, for stepping up there.”

Virgil’s shoulders relaxed at Jeff’s words, as well as his father’s hand patting him on the shoulder, “Thanks, Dad. Just… go easy on him. I know it’s a little late for this but none of us ever properly talked about things. It was very unhealthy, deep down we all knew that, but…”

“You just couldn’t get the proper emotions out?” Jeff finished for his son. At Virgil’s soft nod, Jeff exhaled, “I’m not going to say that it was a smart decision, but we’re all here now. We can move forward with this.” Jeff squeezed where his hand laid.

Virgil blinked before curtly going, “Yeah. Goodnight, Dad. Take care of Scott.”

Virgil stepped around his father and walked to where his bedroom most definitely was not, but Jeff could deal with that in a little bit. He had another son who he was pretty sure just had a violent PTSD attack of some kind, plus, Virgil seemed to sour at something Jeff said. The ex-astronaut wasn’t sure what it was, so he didn’t chase after him out of worry that--

Wait.

We’re all here now.

Dammit, Jeff. Out of all the sentences you could’ve picked...

Alrighty, just add that to the ever-growing pile of things that need to be talked about later. No biggie. Jeff found himself sighing and rubbing the back of his neck much like Virgil did a few minutes ago. Turning around, he was met with the bathroom door once more. Shaking his head, Jeff slowly crept into the room and saw that not much was different, especially with Scott.

His heart softly cracked, but, again, he can deal with it later.

Sitting down on the ground and grimacing at the way his body ached (was gravity always this rough?), Jeff leaned against the floor cabinets about 2-3 feet away from Scott, who made himself into a nice comfortable ball in the corner next to the toilet, his palm smushed against his forehead. Jeff waited a few seconds. Then minutes. Then he realized he would have to be the one to initiate the conversation. He probably should’ve realized that right when he came back in. He opened his mouth, but his wasn’t the one that words came out of.

“It was… Zambia.”

Jeff’s heart stopped and his mouth snapped shut. He couldn’t stop the way his eyes clearly showed his panic, but hopefully, he guiltily thought, Scott was a little too doped up to not realize it, “Scotty, what do you mean?”

Scott shrugged in a way that spoke he thought what he was admitting wasn’t a big deal. Yep, clearly not with it, “Mission went bad… caught for a couple of weeks.”

Jeff was hoping his first fuck back on Earth, spoken to himself like right now or otherwise, would have been a comedic thing, but the way nausea rose in his throat said this was anything but funny.

Scott wanted to be in the Air Force. Badly. Who was a father to deny his son’s want to be part of such a noble cause? He gave him tips, took him to meet friends in high places, sometimes even sparred with him when he turned 18, but then Jeff was suddenly thousands of miles away with no hope of ever having the chance of sparring with his eldest again. Despite it, Jeff hoped Scott went on to become the best pilot the world has ever seen.

Part of this looks like he did, but at what cost?

As much as it felt like it did, the world didn’t stop spinning because you… well, we had lives we somehow wanted to continue living.

Aw hell, “Jesus, Scott…” Jeff couldn’t tell if it was the brashness or the lack of a nickname that made Scott flinch and he hated it. He immediately softened his tone and brought his 27-year-old child into his arms, “Shh, shh, we’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out.”

Like father like son, old habits die hard, and as easy as it was to still be able to comfort his children, Scott seemed to just as easily take it as he used to 8 years ago, “Alan doesn’t deserve this kind of hell, God, he’s barely not a kid anymore! Why--”

Jeff tightened his hold to keep his son in reality, and because he didn’t like the tone behind those words, “Hey, you didn’t either--”

Scott somehow managed to fling himself out of the hug, focus incredibly on point for someone who was doped up to his eyelids five seconds ago, “But I fucked up! I made the wrong call and then suddenly Arnold was dead and he had a wife and kids-- shit, what the hell did I do?”

Okay.

First of all: way to put him back in that headspace when that’s the exact opposite you were going for, Jeff, father of the year. Second: dammit. Just… dammit. This was a big fat hand grenade in a giant handbasket that they didn’t have time to gently get out while simultaneously not yanking the pin clean off with the grace of a drunk elephant. Jeff was no stranger to Survivor’s Guilt, but there was a whole untapped pile of metaphorical C4 within his son’s head that was ready for someone to push the goddamn button.

He wanted it to be him, desperately, because it sounded like he already failed his family enough, it was all he could do at this point, but he absolutely hated that he couldn’t do it right now. This was going to take a lot of time, which they didn’t have, plus, Jeff thought he had a pretty good understanding of this new Scott and the rest of his kids. Jeff was aware that if he didn’t help his sons find their baby as fast as possible over everything else it’ll lead to a fate nobody wanted.

A shaky sigh, “Okay, Scotty, let’s get you to bed. We’ll talk strategy in the morning.”

Scott simply nodded as his father flung Scott’s arm around his broader shoulders and picked him up. Slowly and painfully but surely, father and son meandered their way to Scott’s room. With a thump a little harder than Jeff wanted, Scott flopped down on top of his sheets and immediately started snoring. Despite everything that just happened, the father couldn’t help but grin at the sight. Well, there was another thing Jeff gracefully passed onto his son.

Jeff only took Scott’s shoes off. He would’ve loved to pull the sheets up around him too, but the father didn’t want to take any chances at waking him up. Slowly tip-toeing out of the room, Jeff gave one last glance back at his son before finally letting him be and gently shutting the door. He had three other sons he needed to console, but his tired joints told him to selfishly take a moment for himself for right now unless he wanted to collapse and give his family more to deal with.

Jeff eventually made his way to his room-- which was sadly unkempt, he noticed-- and sat down on the edge of his unfamiliar bed to think.

He’ll figure something out. If he had to crawl through images of his son being brutally and bloodily tortured then by God he would with the fury of a thousand suns.

He was back and he wasn’t going to throw away any second or even third chance he was given.

---

“I got him.”

Virgil turned his comms back on, and with it, Scott’s heart restarted for the first time in a few weeks. Taking a moment for a breather, Scott leaned against the wall while practically wheezing. They have him back, holy shit, they have him back. Scott vaguely heard Gordon cry in pure relief and joy. He saw John’s side of the comms flutter for a bit before a bright flash happened. Blinking away the white spots, Scott looked at his wrist to see a fully detailed map of the compound.

Gordon spoke what they were all thinking, “Woohoo! First Allie comes back, then Johnny-boy gets us a free ticket out of here! We’re winning this race, baby!”

A very loud moment of silence. John cleared his throat, “Actually, I was going to say glad to see you in one piece, you little shit,” a playful gasp came from Virgil’s side. It was too high pitched to be from the pianist’s mouth. Scott chuckled, but the paranoid part of his brain said John wasn’t done. His brain was right, ‘“But guys… that wasn’t me. Or EOS. We still haven’t found a way to get past the metal they made these walls out of.”

That silence was even more deafening than the last, and before Virgil could utter out his typical what the fuck, a small logo appeared at the corner of their new map. One that was all too familiar. The Chaos Crew wasn’t the only one who could brand their awful deeds.

Son of a bitch.

Virgil’s order over the radio was meant for Alan, but Scott couldn’t help but listen to it too.

“Shit, Alan, you need to run.”

Making quick work of the compound once more, Scott, while booking it even quicker than last time, opened a private line between him and Gordon, “Hey, how would you feel if I said go help Virgil while I cover Alan?”

The first response was stuttering, which Scott expected, but then it was followed up by something completely out of left field for Gordon, “... Okay, just as long as you promise to bring Alan back in one piece.”

Part of Scott wanted to console Gordon, another was questioning why Gordon was so quick to give up, another wanted to say of course, I will, idiot, but the first part that made itself verbal was easy, “You know I will, buddy.”

Scott could physically picture Gordon’s tiny, little, somber nod clear as day, “Sounds good, captain. See you on the other side.”

With a click, Scott was back on the group comm. Suddenly remembering what exactly his job was, he pulled out the map so graciously given to them by The Hood. Looking at all the dots, one was heading towards a prone one (oh if that asshole did anything to Virgil…) while another one was heading right for Scott himself. Actually, in just a few seconds, right as Scott rounded the corner he would--

“Woah, look out there, Tigger!”

Yes, you heard that correctly: not tiger, Tigger. Tigger hadn’t been used since Alan was itty bitty. It always seemed like the kid had endless energy with the way he wouldn’t stop bounding off the walls and furniture. Even as a baby, Lucy had to sit with him for a few hours while he slept in his crib to make sure he would stay there. In fact, their mother gave Alan that nickname herself. She was quite the Winnie the Pooh fan, and the rest of the family figured it would be one of the ways they could keep her legacy alive for the tiny potato.

Wrapping his arms around said flailing potato, albeit much bigger than a baby, Scott thought he would collapse then and there. Alan was here, in his arms, and yeah, the sight of his dirty and somewhat ripped up IR uniform made him mad, but Scott, for once in his life, decided to focus on the here-and-now, aka his precious, alive little brother, who finally stopped struggling at the realization that hey, the person holding you is a good guy, time to turn off fight mode.

Smushing their foreheads together as much as possible, Scott desperately fought to keep the waterworks back, a smile from ear to ear hopefully taking whatever energy his tear ducts had, “You are getting such an ass beating when we get home, little bro.”

Alan jumped back with a look of What the hell?! What did I do now?!

Scott simply rolled his eyes, “Really? “Not important”? You graduated high school, tiny dude! That’s huge! You remember Gordon’s party, right?”

Alan’s mouth gaped before he closed it with slightly puffy cheeks. Those same cheeks tinged with a small blush. Alan wasn’t exactly expecting to be smothered so soon (well, he did cry his eyes out on Virgil’s shoulder, but that was different!). Shaking it off, Alan moved his hands rhythmically and rapidly, To be fair, we weren’t sure he was going to get one for a while.

Scott faltered a little bit at the ASL. Darn, he should’ve seen Alan’s lack of talking from a mile away. Scott carefully hid his disappointment from Alan. Lord knew what the kid would take it as, “Yeah, that’s what he got for barely making it. Imagine what you’re going to get!”

Scott assumed his semi-fake charm worked, as Alan seemed to play along without any kind of suspicion, Oh yeah. Fair enough.

This kid, man.

Then, slow clapping came from a dark corner, making Scott’s heart leap out of his throat as well as push Alan behind himself. Glaring as much as he could towards the invisible evil-doer, Scott didn’t have to think twice, “Alan, take my map and find Virgil and Gordon.”

The youngest looked like he was going to object.

“Go.”

He no longer did. Good.

Listening to the field commander’s orders, Scott felt his wristband slip off his wrist and a warm body leave his vicinity. An inhale. Also good. An exhale, followed by an even darker glare, “What more do you want?”

Short and straight-to-the-point and angry, two things Scott typically wasn’t. Regardless, like a cold gust of wind, footsteps started approaching him from the shadow. Once Scott saw the outline of a body, he tensed even more. Virgil would snap at him for clenching his jaw so much.

A dark chuckle reminded him of what was important. The voice that spoke reminded him of something completely different, “Now then, brother, let’s not be rude to each other!”

Scott’s pupils shrunk at the familiar sight of Gordon stepping towards him. Except it wasn’t Gordon, because Scott knew that Gordon knew better. He also knew Gordon didn’t cheekily smile like that, even after a prank, nor did he walk that straight. He always had a funny walk after WASP, and Gordon wore that fact like a badge of honor.

Oh no, Scott definitely knew who this was, “What the hell are you playing at?”

Fake-Gordon rolled his eyes, like it wasn’t obvious, “I mean if we want to go that route, why did kid insist you being in the military was the coolest thing he’d ever heard you do? Maybe I wouldn’t have been pressured into joining a branch myself in the end.”

Scott’s nostrils flared, and by God, his pupils might have actually slitted like a snake’s, or possibly even a dragon’s, “Excuse me?”

Scott blinked, and suddenly he was met by not-Virgil, “Plus, why was our conclusion after hearing a three-year-old wanting to see snow to go to a ski resort? It had to have been those big, selfish, beady eyes, right?”

“C’mon, Scotty, we gotta give you some kind of calming exercise. There’s going to come a time when neither me or John are going to be there.”

“Hmm… does yoga work?”

A snort, “Well, that’s not too bad of an idea. Maybe the person pissing you off will stop whatever they’re doing at the sight of you spontaneously doing downward dog.”

Laughter, an unfamiliar action, “Yeah, okay, but for real, those breathing exercises I’ve seen you do look okay. Let’s start there.”

Scott was not a liar by heart. He had to admit that those exercises were doing jack shit right about now.

Another blink, another brother. Familiar ginger hair was all Scott could see, “To continue that previous point, why did Dad start International Rescue again? And what led to his demise?”

“Sounds like a piece of work. Why do you keep dealing with these people again?”

“Someone has to pay the bills, Johnny. Grandma’s too focused on making the perfect poison for us.”

A roll of eyes, “Right, because the billions we have saved wouldn’t be enough to last a couple of families a few lifetimes. Glad to see your calming exercises are working at least. How’s that going for you, by the way?”

A pause. A flicker of vision around the room. Someone cleared their throat, probably himself, “It’s probably not as bad as whatever space is throwing at you. You handling it okay up there?”

Another pause, followed by a sigh, “Well, since you asked so nicely…”

Scott wanted to deflect the truth so badly right now more than anything else. Telling him he couldn’t pilot ‘One anymore would be a much more enticing option than what he was hearing.

Suddenly, Scott was looking in a mirror, “Besides, I know more than anybody that he wasn’t wanted. A mistake. I thought we Tracys hated being imperfect?”

The Hood must have known their backstories from internet articles, and being the mastermind he was, it probably took him all of three seconds to see Alan had some hidden self-worth issues. By playing the biggest Guess Who? game of all time, The Hood was most likely able to figure out some less-than-positive ideals Alan thought about himself throughout his childhood and danced circles around his already weakened mind to string together some spineless blame to put on the kid by sheer evilness alone.

Knowing his kid brother, it worked.

Scott wasn’t thinking straight-- maybe even at all when the first punch was thrown.

Just like that, Scott blacked out and was running on terminator mode. John would be disappointed. Virgil would be horrified. Gordon might find it funny. Alan wasn’t here, and thank God for that. Scott wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. All his mind was telling him was make lots of pain hard and fast. His brain also blocked out any hit The Hood was giving him in return. Pain flared for a few seconds, then it was swept away in the puddle of rage his mind was currently being consumed in.

Soon, his out-of-it mind found its target and gripped his-- The Hood’s arm, no disguise would make him have an identity crisis, thank you very much-- nice and rough.

Scott heard the familiar snap of cartilage and felt only partially bad. If he was thinking more clearly, he would be disgusted with himself. Yes, even The Hood didn’t deserve this level of Scott’s fury. Oh, he definitely deserved to be hit by a truck, but not by Scott. It was mostly due to Scott’s sanity. If he could be this graphic and violent at all, even to the worse possible criminals, that meant he could be that way during other moments, and that was not a territory he wanted to cross into.

Welp, he was here now, and he’ll hate to admit it in the future, but the only thing that brought him out of it was a tiny gasp from a few feet away. Snapping his head up, Scott’s eyes landed squarely on a smaller-than-normal Alan, who was currently clutching his arm to his chest in an emotion Scott didn’t want to figure out at the moment. So much for going and finding Virgil and Gordon.

“Allie, help…” fake him grunted out, only making real Scott growl and tighten his hold (and probably making his case worse). Looking up from the person in his arms, Scott felt his heart split in two at the sight. There was fear and uncertainty in Alan’s blue eyes and boy did it hurt. Scott couldn’t tell if it was because even seeing a potentially-fake Scott being beaten up was bad or if it was because he’d never seen big brother be this brutal, even towards their enemies. Whatever the reason, it involved Scott being the main root of the problem.

Wait, that was The Hood’s plan. Shit… make Scott act past the point of no return in a way that was unfamiliar to Alan so the kid couldn’t be fully sure who was who, and Scott fell right into his trap, hook, line, and sinker.

Fuck.

Bloody well done, Scott, you absolute moron.

Scott faltered a little bit, “A-Alan, I--”

That falter was enough for The Hood to break an arm out of his grip and elbow him in the face. In the brief second of freedom he had, he tried dashing towards Alan, but Scott was too quick for everyone’s good and soon had the imposter back in his arms, both of them struggling in a way that made them look like they were tied into the weirdest knot in existence.

Then, an earthquake struck.

No, literally.

A big shake of the abandoned compound threw the look-a-likes about and subsequently off the platform they were on. The place was old; it didn’t take a lot of weight for that guard rail they made their way over towards while fighting to snap right off. With a yelp, the two of them gripped the edge as much as they could and held on. Crap, I know we talked with Fuse about potentially setting some stuff off, but--

Blinking, Scott saw a familiar mop of blonde hair come into view. Alan was rather panicked, clearly not sure which Scott was the real Scott. Not only that, he had little time to decide which one to save. Goodie, another reason to despise The Hood: not only has he put Alan through weeks of torment, now he’s forcing the kid to decide to either save his oldest brother and biggest hero or his personal torturer.

And Alan won’t know until he picks.

Holy hell, this was getting worse by the second. Hopefully, big brother charm can work its magic and get them the hell out of there.

“Alan, quickly, over here!”

“I can’t hold on for much longer, Alan, hurry!”

The two Scotts glared at one another in the exact same way, not making Alan’s job much easier. Another shake, another slip down the metal cliff, more screams, and Alan looked ready to tear his hair out. Scott watched as the kid looked around rapidly, probably praying for a miracle in the process. Suddenly, the kid jumped when he must have spotted something important. Within the blink of an eye, he was gone and out of their range of visions to retrieve it.

Whatever the hell he noticed better be important, because if just ended up wasting precious time then--

Another shake, probably the last one. Still, it was enough.

Both their grips gave away at the same time, screams identical (God, did he always sound that wimpy?) as they plummeted to their demises. Scott was briefly able to look up to see his brother pop his head over the cliff like a chipmunk again and grab the (albeit broken) arm of The Hood and save him. Dammit, Scott should have expected that, though, that display of anger was uncharacteristic to Alan. Probably terrified him even more than he already was. Fuck, Scott deser--

Suddenly, a rope wrapped itself around Scott’s left arm and stopped his descent. Hard. Hopefully, it was only torn stuff, they didn’t have time to deal with dislocation--

Wait.

Scott wasn’t dead if he could think about these kinds of things.

Blinking, he looked at his arm to see the familiar rope of his grappling hook around his forearm. Moving his eyesight to look past that, he saw the wide, blue eyes of his baby brother struggling to stay on top. The Hood was using his non-broken side to try and climb his way back up to safety. Huh, that’s weird. When did Alan get ahold of that? Scott must have dropped it during his scuffle with--

That’s when it hit Scott.

Alan saved them both.

Alan saved them both.

And it would be all for jack shit if Scott didn’t get his ass up there to help.

Panicking, Scott gripped the rope and started to ascend. He had two working arms and a smother complex to boot; it wasn’t long before he overtook a struggling Hood, who could only use one arm and a weakened brother (that bastard was so lucky Alan had a literal heart of gold).

Flinging his arms over the edge and pulling himself up-- and shrugging off the extra help Alan offered. Save your strength, baby bro-- Scott was in a much calmer search-and-destroy mode. He yanked his evil look-a-like up, turned him on his stomach, pinned him down, and before he could even watch Alan blink, “Sign something.”

There, now he watched Alan blink.

Scott pulled out one of his best ‘big brother’ smiles ever, “Tell me something in ASL. I don’t think The Hood learned that kind of etiquette.”

The body beneath him growled, making Alan jump and Scott tighten not only his hold but his glare. Further prove big brother’s point, why don’t cha? He lost the angry look immediately to grin at Alan once more, who seemed to be slowly getting the picture. With a gulp, the blonde slowly strung together a sentence that Scott had to laugh at, just a little bit.

Damn, could you teach me to fight like that, Scooter?

Nodding his head, Scott had to concede, “Sure. Consider it a graduation present.”

Alan blinked again, and the immense relief that washed over the boy’s shoulders would be enough to banish nightmares for at least a couple of days. Suddenly, The Hood’s disguise blinked out of existence, making both brothers jump that time. Scott didn’t falter in his grip, however. This man was going down right here and now, Scott thought darkly, staring at the prone body beneath his.

Scott saw Alan continue to sign out of the corner of his eye, You know you look like shit, right?

Scott chuckled. Alan was always able to put a smile on his face no matter the circumstances, “Yeah, well, kindred spirits, little bro.”

Scott was probably as pale as Alan was with such lack of sleep and food. Running on what was essentially a prolonged PTSD attack wasn’t healthy in the slightest, and no doubt whatever kind of bruises and scratches The Hood gave him didn’t help, however, seeing hope fill those deep-blue eyes when Alan learned he was truly being saved drowned everything out, including the way those freckles were getting lost in those eye bags.

Yeah, their entire family probably looked like shit, and the recovery process was going to be even shittier, but they were going to suffer through it together as a family would.

That made it all worth it.

Shuffling himself so one arm was free while the other kept The Hood pinned, Scott held it out towards Alan. The flinch the youngest made tore a hole in Scott’s heart that was only slightly patched when Alan leaned into the warmth and safety of his biggest bro. Long recovery process, remember? Regardless, Alan still took to the hug like a dehydrated zebra did a pond, and that was good enough for Scott.

The Hood groaned underneath them.

Yep, good enough.

[dabistits]

hey... you're the smartest blog i follow on this hellsite so i gotta ask... why do people use tomura saying he fully intended to kill his father when he reached out for him as an argument that tomura is obviously 100% evil? like... why not something else? because tbh, idk about other people, but like... i got abused way less than tomura did as a child but never felt bad about my father dying and, if anything, felt relief because it meant that one of my abusers was gone (1/2)

and sometimes i get desperate about the situation im in now, to the point that i do honestly consider murder just so i can be free and like… dont rlly feel that bad when i look back at those thoughts when im in a clearer mindset… so, if i, someone who’s gone through less than tomura has, am not necessarily evil, then why is that used as a ‘trump card’ to prove that tomura is 100% pure villain and not like… something else? also.. please humor my vacuum question? (2/2)

thank you, lovely, but the truth is i learn a lot from other people on this site too!! just not the fandom blogs, absolutely do not develop your sense of morality from fandom blogs…

for your question: people think tomura killing his father makes him evil because they look at morality in stories through the same lens that predominates our own society. it pushes the message that an intent to kill (from anyone who isn’t an agent of the state) is bad, encouraging us to divorce violence from the context that surrounds it. it’s the easiest way to undermine victims and marginalized people, because comparisons are drawn between the intent of both parties: i.e. your abuser only wanted to hurt you, why does that make it okay kill him? white supremacists only want to remove you from this country, how is that equivalent to violent resistance?

this approach 1) obscures the violence of the more powerful party (assumes that the abuse isn’t serious or otherwise inescapable, pretends that ‘population removal’ doesn’t entail uprooting people from their lives at gunpoint), and 2) creates a double-edged sword where victims can only endure the violence of their oppressor/try to resolve everything peacefully and accept that their oppressor has gotten away with all the pain they inflicted, or be branded the ‘bad guy’ if they respond in a way that other parties deem ‘excessive.’ in every case, responding to violence with violence (even necessary violence) is deemed worse than initiating violence where there wasn’t any in the first place.

as far as bnha goes, we can question if kotaro ‘deserved it’ or if tenko’s response to him was ‘proportionate’ (which are not wholly worthless questions, but that’s for another post). i do think there could be debate on this—because for instance, i largely see him as more redeemable than emdivor or afo—but as per my first couple paragraphs, i don’t think we can simply call a child, who justifiably felt deeply, deeply wronged, ‘evil’ for acting on his emotions. we might call it ‘unfortunate’ or ‘badly misguided,’ maybe, or even ‘vengeful’ or ‘hateful’ (which i’m listing because that was how he felt in the moment) but nothing that presumes a static, unchanging characteristic like ‘evil.’ there are decisions that people can make that are not morally upstanding that nevertheless doesn’t brand them forever.

but, just as an aside, i don’t even really believe that a five year old going through one of the most traumatizing moments of his life was making a completely rational decision to commit murder. tomura’s internal monologue does bias us towards this interpretation to a degree, but it feels dissonant with what is actually being shown on the page. it could be deliberate, it could not be. hori could be trying to show that tomura is retroactively inscribing a narrative wherein he was fully aware of events as a disordered way of coping, or hori could genuinely believe that a five year old’s decision-making in that moment was the revelation of his truest self. i don’t know which interpretation is closest to the author’s intention, but i guess time will tell.

and, lastly… i want to take a moment to say to you, anon: i’m sorry you’re in this situation, but believe me when i say it will get better. you will get away from your parents and you will remove their hold over you. you will be better than they ever were. thank you for sending me this question (i hope this answer is satisfactory), know that my inbox is always open if needed, and i wish you the very best❤️

[smilingformoney]

America’s Most Eligible 3 Diamond Scene: Put Vince in His Place

You: Ivy’s right. I’ve got plenty of dirt on you, and I’m not afraid to spill it. Vince: Oh, please. This is clearly just my ex-fiancée’s way of trying to make me look bad. You: Ivy’s just the tip if the iceberg! There’s a whole set full of people who can’t stand you. Vince: Name one.

You: How about… -Wrenn?

You: You haven’t shown them an ounce of respect since they started. They’re a producer, and you still treat them like garbage! Vince: You’re not serious. This is reality TV. If he’s that sensitive, he should work somewhere else. Omar: What the hell did you just say? Wrenn: For the last time, you greasy bigot, my pronouns are they and them. Vince: Sometimes I forget. Sue me. Wrenn: If I could, I would. You’re not forgetful, you’re hateful, and I’m sick of putting up with it. Jen: If I’d known about this, I would’ve had you kicked off the set immediately. You’re an absolute disgrace.

-Adam?

You: You tricked him into believing he was your best friend, and then threw him under the bus the first chance you got! Adam: You couldn’t face me like a real opponent, so you stabbed me in the back. After all we went through together! Chadley: I remember that! At first, I thought the definition of ‘friend’ changed, but then I realised you’re just bad at it. Vince: Are you still beating that dead horse? It’s a competition. I did what I had to do to win. Adam: That’s the problem. You’ll do whatever it takes to win, no matter who it hurts. Chadley: Yeah, I never did anything like that to win AME! You’re just a big, dumb bully with weird facial hair!

You: I could throw a dart at the cast and crew photo blindfolded, and I’d still hit someone you’ve screwed over. Vince: Please. You think something as small as that is going to paint me as a monster? Vince: This is television, Jamie. Every second that I’m on this set, I’m thinking about how to make magic. Ivy: And I guess sleeping with the Maid of Honour was just a part of the recipe? The crowd gasps! Vince: Ivy, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not interested in Sierra. I’ve only ever had eyes for you.

You: If that’s true, then… -Why was Sierra’s bra in your luggage?

You: I’ve heard of traveling with a change of underwear, but that’s going a little far, don’t you think? Sierra: She’s got you there, Vince. Good luck getting yourself out of this one.

-Let’s ask Sierra to confirm it!

The entire wedding turns to look at Sierra. Her face remains calm. Sierra: Yeah, I’ve been sleeping with Vince all season… and I’m not ashamed to admit it. His thing with Ivy was a sham.

-Why haven’t you treated Ivy right?

You: You’ve been blowing Ivy off all season. I wouldn’t be surprised if Sierra made you late to the finale! Sierra: So we had a quickie and it made us a little late. Big deal?

Vince: Sierra, how could you-- Sierra: I’ve been under your thumb all season, Casanova. Frankly, I’m getting sick of it. I think it’s time for a little honesty. Sierra: Should I start by telling the fans about the day we banged it out on every piece of furniture I own? Vince: Sierra, enough! Sierra: What about how the dating advice you’ve made a career out of is completely bogus? Sierra: I just don’t get it. If you’re so rich, why did you even bother coming on this show again? For attention?

-If you spoke to Carson in Vegas

You think back to your conversation with Carson in Vegas… You: It’s not for attention. He needs the prize money. Vince’s completely broke! Ivy: His business went down the drain when he got Eliminated last season.

-If you didn’t speak to Carson in Vegas

Ivy: Well, that’s an easy fix. Vince couldn’t jump over a nickel to save a dime. He’s broke! You: Not to mention desperate.

You: That’s why… -He’s been selling lies to the tabloids!

Vince: Now that’s just ridiculous. I might be short on liquid assets— You: Save it. My fiancée and I heard you tell that reporter that out relationship was fake. Fiancée: And we know he offered to pay you off if the tip was good. You: Sounds like a sale to me.

-He’s rationing his pricey cologne!

Vince: Now that’s just ridiculous. I might be short on liquid assets-- You: You’re not talking your way out of this one. Smell him! Carson: She’s right! Vince never leaves home without spraying his signature scent-- Ivy: A mix of cotton, ink, leather, and soap, ‘to mimic the smell of money.’ Carson: But now he smells like wet grass!

-He came up with this scheme!

Vince: Now that’s just ridiculous. I might be short on liquid assets-- You: You and Ivy tried to scam the fans into believing you were in love so you could win the million dollars… You: You never cared about each other. You just wanted a quick way to make some money. Vince: People get married every day for less.

Carson: He’s a fraud! Lancelin: And worse than that, he clearly did not read the dress code. This wedding is beach chic. Penny: All I can say is, thank goodness those two never made it to the altar. Chadley: Wait… So it was all fake? Fatima: Everthing about him is fake. His hair’s not even naturally curly. I created those curls! Ivy: Vince is nothing but a lying, cheating, good-for-nothing… Wrenn: Bigoted bully! Omar: Get ‘im, Wrenn! One by one, members of the cast and crew speak up with some instance of when Vince mistreated them, until the jumbled voices are deafening!

You: Vince… -You made a big mistake coming here. +100

You: I don’t know what you thought would happen, but face it. You lost.

-What goes around comes around. +100

You: Now the whole country sees you for exactly what you are. Trash.

You: Now get the hell away from my wedding before I call the cops. Your wedding guests cheer and clap as Vince storms off, red-faced and humiliated!

[patriotsnet]

Why Some Republicans Are Feeling Shame

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/why-some-republicans-are-feeling-shame/

Why Some Republicans Are Feeling Shame

Who Are These People

Why some conservatives feel targeted by social media companies

Earlier this week, as the challenge by congressional Republicans of the choice of electors by six states loomed ahead of us, I shared with my spouse how miserably dispirited I had become as an American citizen. The realization weighed heavily on me that I have nothing in common with nearly half the electorate in this country: not my social values and attitudes; not my political beliefs and allegiances; not the value that my ethical sensibilities place on rationality, cooperation and the common good; not even my fundamental moral principles.

I cannot relate to these others, nor do I want to. I already know what they represent, and what they represent, I despise. I feel alienated from them. They make me feel that I am a stranger in my own homeland. I suppose the alienation felt is mutual between us. But I cannot reach out to them. Like addicts, they need to recognize and claim their own demons and crawl away from them. Neither I nor anybody else can do that for them. This may be a harsh and uncharitable comparison. But I would be dishonest with myself to think and to say otherwise.;

Steven Pokorny, Urbandale

Senate Republicans Are Bathed In Shame

Theres no impartial justice, just protection of Trump at all costs.

By Frank Bruni

Opinion Columnist

The impeachment trial of Donald John Trump began on Thursday when John Roberts, the chief justice of the United States, directed all of the senators to stand and raise their right hands. Ever since I cant get two questions out of my head.

The first: How in Gods name and it was in Gods name can the Republicans who have already decided to acquit President Trump take a solemn oath to administer impartial justice? Theyre partial to the core, unabashedly so, as their united march toward a foregone conclusion shows. A mind-meld this ironclad isnt a reflection of facts. Its a triumph of factionalism.

The majority of the partys senators have said outright or clearly signaled that they have no intention of finding the president guilty and removing him from office. Yapping lap dogs like Lindsey Graham and obedient manservants like Mitch McConnell have gone further, mocking the whole impeachment process.

So the oath they took: How does that work? Did they cross the fingers on their left hands? Do they reason that American politics has reached a nadir of such fundamental hypocrisy and overweening partisanship that no one regards that pledge as anything but window dressing?

If there were nothing to this, why would Trump stonewall Congress to the extent that he has? Thats not how the innocent act.

A pathological liar, Cruz called Trump.

What To Watch For

It is highly unlikely Cruz or Hawley will resign or be forced out, but their political prospects both within and outside the senate appeared to have dimmed. In addition to alienating possible donors, one anonymous Republican senator told Politico the caucus would face a reckoning over Hawley and Cruz.

Also Check: How Many Republicans Are There In The Senate

Think Republicans Are Disconnected From Reality It’s Even Worse Among Liberals

A new survey found Democrats live with less political diversity despite being more tolerant of it with startling results

In a surprising new national survey, members of each major American political party were asked what they imagined to be the beliefs held by members of the other. The survey asked Democrats: How many Republicans believe that racism is still a problem in America today? Democrats guessed 50%. Its actually 79%. The survey asked Republicans how many Democrats believe most police are bad people. Republicans estimated half; its really 15%.

The survey, published by the thinktank More in Common as part of its Hidden Tribes of America project, was based on a sample of more than 2,000 people. One of the studys findings: the wilder a persons guess as to what the other party is thinking, the more likely they are to also personally disparage members of the opposite party as mean, selfish or bad. Not only do the two parties diverge on a great many issues, they also disagree on what they disagree on.

This effect, the report says, is so strong that Democrats without a high school diploma are three times more accurate than those with a postgraduate degree. And the more politically engaged a person is, the greater the distortion.

Should the US participate in the Paris climate accord and reduce greenhouse gas emissions regardless of what other countries do? A majority of voters in both parties said yes.

Our Very Right To Vote Under Fire

The foundation of the American democracy is the absolute right of the people to choose their own leaders through the ballot box. Historians label this the sovereignty of the people. We are our own authority, in the decision-making process of the state and in the maintenance of order.

This absolute right of the people is under severe attack. Many of our fellow citizens believe that votes legitimately cast and counted are illegitimate. I do not know how or even if we will return to a culture of trust in the sovereignty of the people, and if we cannot go back, how will American democracy survive?

;Karen Merrick, Guttenberg

Recommended Reading: Why Do Republicans Still Back Trump

Hes Destroyed Conservatism: The Republican Case Against Trumps Gop

Stuart Stevens was a winning GOP operative. Now he feels terrible about what hes done to the country.

AP Photo/Patrick Semansky

Link Copied

Michael Grunwald is a senior staff writer for;Politico Magazine.

Stuart Stevens spent four decades helping Republicansa lot of Republicanswin. Hes one of the most successful political operatives of his generation, crafting ads and devising strategies for President George W. Bush, Republican presidential nominees Mitt Romney and Bob Dole, and dozens of GOP governors, senators and congressmen. He didnt win every race, but he thinks he had the best won-lost record in Republican campaign world.

And now he feels terrible about it.

Stevens now believes the Republican Party is, not to put too fine a point on it, a malign force jeopardizing the survival of American democracy. Hes written a searing apologia of a book called It Was All a Lie that compares his lifelong party to the Mafia, to Bernie Madoffs fraud scheme, to the segregationist movement, even to the Nazis. Hes pretty disillusioned.

It Was All a Lie is really about the party that spawned Trump and now marches in near-lockstep behind himthe party to which 67-year-old Stevens has devoted his career. The GOPs abject surrender to its unorthodox and unconservative leader was a surprise to Stevens, but he has concluded that he shouldnt have been surprised.

Aboard Mitt Romney’s campaign plane in Sept. 2012, senior adviser Stuart Stevens speaks to the press. | AP Photo/Evan Vucci

Hart Is Doing The Right Thing

I know Rita Hart personally and in my experience, she is the kind of person who is always trying to do the right thing, even if its difficult and an uphill battle.

Hart would likely win if just the uncounted 22 ballots were counted, but she is going a step further to ensure everyone can be confident in the election outcome by asking for a full recount. In a situation like this, a bipartisan commission in the U.S. House will likely ask the nonpartisan Government Accountability Office to conduct the recount so we can trust that politics will not interfere with the review of the election.

It is commendable that Hart is fighting to protect our sacred right to vote and the trustworthiness of our elections. Every vote must be counted to ensure Iowans continue to have confidence in their election system. Count every vote

;Maria Dickmann, Davenport

Also Check: How Many Registered Republicans In Illinois

Executive Action Is A Slippery Slope

The rationale given by the editorial board Jan. 3 to have Joe Biden issue executive orders to undo Donald Trumps executive orders is that some issues are too important to just wait for Congress. ;

Im sure this was the belief of Barack Obama when he issued his orders and the belief of Trump when he issued his orders. In other words, this rationale could be employed by any president at any time and it poses a real danger to the separation of legislative power and executive power provided by the U.S. Constitution. ;

Do the board members really want to combine these powers in the office of the presidency ?

Lonny Wilson,;West Des Moines

Democrats Werent Violent But Chose A Different Dishonorable Path

Why Do We Feel Shame?

I agree with the Jan. 7 letter Shame, shame, with the closing statement, This is one of the saddest days in our history.

And yes, when Trump won in 2016 there was no mob violence by Democrats. There was just four years of disbelief by the Democrats that Trump won and four years of trying to impeach him.

William D. Blohm, Carroll

Read Also: Who Makes More Money Democrats Or Republicans

Why Some Republicans Are Feeling Shame

Back in the fall, when Donald Trump dubbed Jeb Bush low-energy, Carlos Gimenez grew a little concerned. By last month, when Marco Rubio and Trump engaged in childish name-calling, the Republican mayor of Miami-Dade County thought the GOP presidential race had gotten out of hand. Now, after a tawdry week that has focused on the wives of Trump and Ted Cruz, Gimenez is certain that the race has moved totally out of bounds.

Politics is a contact sport, Gimenez said, but there should be contact in other ways.

Gimenez is watching with disgust, as are many Republicans across the country, as his partys presidential race turns into a tabloid talk show. After a winter that featured anatomical insults, violent clashes at rallies, and fierce accusations of lying and dirty tricks, Republicans say the past week has been particularly dispiriting.

At a moment when the party had hoped to turn its attention to;a general-election matchup against Hillary Clinton, Republicans were instead caught in;an;uncomfortable back-and-forth over allegations of adultery and jabs at the physical appearance of the wives of Trump and Cruz.

That dispute took on renewed vigor Sunday, when the two candidates went at it again on the morning shows.

Dont forget, I call him Lying Ted. I call him that because nobody that Ive known Ive known a lot tougher people over the years in business, but Ive never known anybody that lied like Ted Cruz, Trump said.

Republicans Said President Obama Would Raise Taxes Sky High

It never happened. Income taxes for over 95% of Americans remained the same or lower than they were before Obama was elected. The only people whose income taxes increased were those who make more than $400,000 per year, and their taxes rose only 3%. For most Americans, taxes are still lower now than they were under Reagan.

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Conflict Over Health Vs The Economy

Masks are also linked to the broader debate about the disease threat from the coronavirus versus and the devastating impact that social distancing has had on our economy. This controversy again has fallen out on political lines, with the right placing a relatively greater emphasis than the left on the need to restart the economy.

Within this debate, some may see masks as playing up the disease side of this balancing act, while those who don’t wear masks might be seen as prioritizing a swift return to normalcy over concerns about health and safety.

Why Republican Voters Say Theres No Way In Hell Trump Lost

By Brad Brooks, Nathan Layne, Tim Reid

12 Min Read

SUNDOWN, Texas – Brett Fryar is a middle-class Republican. A 50-year-old chiropractor in this west Texas town, he owns a small business. He has two undergraduate degrees and a masters degree, in organic chemistry. He attends Southcrest Baptist Church in nearby Lubbock.

Fryar didnt much like Donald Trump at first, during the U.S. presidents 2016 campaign. He voted for Texas Senator Ted Cruz in the Republican primaries.

Now, Fryar says he would go to war for Trump. He has joined the newly formed South Plains Patriots, a group of a few hundred members that includes a reactionary force of about three dozen – including Fryar and his son, Caleb – who conduct firearms training.

Nothing will convince Fryar and many others here in Sundown – including the towns mayor, another Patriots member – that Democrat Joe Biden won the Nov. 3 presidential election fairly. They believe Trumps stream of election-fraud allegations and say theyre preparing for the possibility of a civil war with the American political left.

If President Trump comes out and says: Guys, I have irrefutable proof of fraud, the courts wont listen, and Im now calling on Americans to take up arms, we would go, said Fryar, wearing a button-down shirt, pressed slacks and a paisley tie during a recent interview at his office.

This is dystopian, Light said. America could fracture.

THERES JUST NO WAY

NO WAY IN HELL

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Republicans Said Waterboarding And Other Forms Of Enhanced Interrogation Are Not Torture And Are Necessary In Fighting Islamic Extremism

In reality, waterboarding and other forms of enhanced interrogation that inflict pain, suffering, or fear of death are outlawed by US law, the US Constitution, and international treaties. Japanese soldiers after World War II were prosecuted by the United States for war crimes because of their use of waterboarding on American POWs.

Professional interrogators have known for decades that torture is the most ineffective and unreliable method of getting accurate information. People being tortured say anything to get the torture to end but will not likely tell the truth.

An FBI interrogator named Ali Soufan was able to get al Qaeda terrorist Abu Zubaydah to reveal crucial information without the use of torture. When CIA interrogators started using waterboarding and other enhanced interrogation methods, Zubaydah stopped cooperating and gave his interrogators false information.

Far from being necessary in the fight against terrorism, torture is completely unreliable and counter-productive in obtaining useful information.

Shame Can Last A Lifetime If We Let It

Find a therapist near me

Shame is one of the hardest emotions to talk about. It can also be the hardest emotion to recognize in ourselves, and it can feel the most painful. So, what is shame and how do we know if were feeling it?

Shame is often confused with embarrassment or guilt. Embarrassment arises when the way we want people to see us isnt the way they do. We want people to think were cool, but then we walk out of the bathroom with toilet paper stuck to our shoe. The feeling usually doesnt last long. Guilt arises when we think weve broken societys or our own moral code. We feel guilty when we lie, for example. Guilt can last a long time, but we usually know that well feel better when we come clean.

Shame can last a lifetime if we let it. It isnt caused by a single event, but an amassing of wounds to our self-worth. We feel guilty when we think weve done something wrong and embarrassed or humiliated when weve erred in public. But we feel shame when we think we are wrong. We may feel powerless to change whatever it is that makes us feel it, which then leads us to feel even more of it. Shame can feel unfixable, because it binds to all emotions. So even when we feel good, we can feel shamelike we dont deserve it.

Its never too late. Love yourself and forgive yourself. Begin today.

Read Also: How Many Registered Republicans Are In The United States

Senator Grassley Was It Worth It

Dear Senator Grassley:

It was impossible to not see the events of Jan. 6 as inevitable.;Some in your Republican Party are assigning blame to the president, acknowledging the role he played. ;

The blame for the;insurrection, loss of life, and the tenuous state of our democracy lies elsewhere.;Truth be known, anyone paying attention knew who Mr. Donald Trump was, and remains: a lawless, narcissistic, racist, immoral, and corrupt human being.;More could be said. ;

Perhaps it is time for you to accept responsibility for the indisputable role you played in empowering this despot.;The examples of his malfeasance in office are legion. ;

You had a chance to put an end to;Trump’s tyranny when you cast your senatorial vote after House impeachment.;The evidence of his offense could not have been clearer,;ignored by you and everyone in your party,;save for Sen. Mitt Romney, your own former presidential nominee. ;

Repercussions of your cowardice, including the treatment of Lt. Col. Alexander Vindman, a whistle-blower, which you made a career off pretending to protect, are too numerous to count.;Your tepid statements supporting other whistle-blowers who were also subjected to vicious attacks, and the rarity of public admonitions of these and other wrongdoings, are a disgrace to your office. ;;

Nevertheless, you certainly have achieved what must have been foremost in your agenda.;You personally helped to pack the Supreme Court, and countless other lifetime appointments have been confirmed. ;

Republicans Claim That Raising The Minimum Wage Would Kill Jobs And Hurt The Economy

Why are Shame & Trauma so Connected?

There is far more evidence to the contrary. Cities and states that have higher minimum wages tend to have better rates of job creation and economic growth.

Detailed analyses show that job losses due to increases in the minimum wage are almost negligible compared to the economic benefits of higher wages. Previous increases in the minimum wage have never resulted in the dire consequences that Republicans have predicted.

Republicans have accused President Obama of “cutting defense spending to the bone”. This chart of 2014 discretionary spending firmly disproves that argument.

Also Check: How Many Senate Seats Do The Republicans Have Right Now

[solarpunksoftie]

additional fun facts about the Gene Pool

because i cant be stopped and oh hello new obsession

my sides

A - Adrienne   E - Ethan   L - Laura   P - Pandora   D - Daryl

Favourite Colour

A - Green

E - Red

L - Blue

P - Yellow

D - Purple

Favourite Music

A - The Struts, Major Lazer, Ariana Grande

E - Rise Against, Green Day, Paramore

L - Lindsey Stirling, Sleeping At Last, Ratatat

P - KONGOS, Arctic Monkeys, Bastille

D - Twenty One Pilots, The Neighborhood, The Front Bottoms

Favourite Foods/Bev

A - Popsicles, Bananas, Mussels / Dr. Pepper

E - Yogurt+Granola, Lamb, Bacon / Juice

L - Steak, Mushrooms, Ramen(its convenient!) / Tea

P - Berries, Spaghetti, Clif Bars (chocolatey ones) / Coffee

D - BBQ Chips, Goldfish, Cheesecake / Hot Cocoa

Favourite Movie

A - Avengers

E - The Sting

L - Cosmos: War of the Planets (they fuckin lov terrible movies)

P - Indiana Jones and the Lost Arc

D - Heathers

Favourite T.V. Show

A - Rick and Morty

E - Brooklyn Nine-Nine

L - Star Trek (tos)

P - The Walking Dead

D -  Cutthroat Kitchen

Favourite Fiction Genre / AO3 Tag

A - Action / Smut

E - Drama / Hurt Comfort

L - Sci-fi / College AU

P - Fantasy / Graphic Depictions of Violence

D - Slice of Life / Whump

Favourite Musical / Song from it

A - Catch Me If You Can / Live in Living Color

E - Les Miserables / Do You Hear The People Sing 

L - Hamilton / Non-Stop

P - Into The Woods / I Know Things Now

D -  Heathers / Lifeboat

Favourite Activity

A - sex, dancing, late night shenanigans with friends

E - attending protests, witchcraft, hiking

L - painting, research, watching movies

P - cooking, playing horror games, playing with animals

D - sleeping, listening to music, cuddling (but they’ll never admit it)

Favourite Affection

A - kisses. not necessarily romantic, forehead, cheek, hand, etc are all awesome

E - massages, especially shoulders

L - hair play

P - hand holding and casual touches

D - hugs, but so touch starved he’ll take anything

Favourite exercise

A - Dance!

E - Swimming

L - Climbing

P - Bicycle

D - pass…

If They Had A Super Power…

A - Flight

E - Pyrokinesis/Pyrogenesis

L - Time Stop

P - Invincibility

D - Invisibility

Weapon Of Choice

A - Falchion… specifically this one 

E - spiked bat

L - Pistol

P - Bowie Knife

D - Switchblade

Travel Destination

A - Amsterdam OR Cross Country Road Trip

E - International Relief Aid (they have no concept of relaxation)

L - Ireland

P - Hawaii

D - no thanks..

Element

A - Air

E - Fire

L - Earth

P - Water

D - Smoke

Theme Songs

A - Raise Your Glass, P!nk - Don’t Threaten Me With A Good Time, P!atD

E - Architects, Rise Against - Uprising, Muse - Feeling Sorry, Paramore

L - Conquest of Spaces, Woodkid

P - Laugh Till I Cry, The Front Bottoms - Stressed Out, Twenty One Pilots

D - Trapdoor, Twenty One Pilots - Be Nice To Me, The Front Bottoms - The Draw, Bastille

Little Quirks

A - Happy Dances, Winks, Hair Fluffs

E - Impatient finger tapping, “Cool Kid” posing, Blowing hair out of face

L - clasped hands, Adjusting glasses, straitening tie

P - deforest kelley bounce, hands nervously in pockets, always ready to rabbit

D - Tired face rub, eye roll, lip biting

Zodiac Sign/Planet (all from my full chart)

A - Aries Moon

E - Scorpio Mars

L - Libra Mercury

P - Sagittarius Jupiter

D - Pisces Saturn

Shadow Emotion

A - Loneliness

E - Sadness

L - Confusion

P - Fear

D - Anger

Alignment

A - Chaotic Neutral - fuck it this looks fun

E - Chaotic Good - I will burn this city to the ground to save a child

L - Lawful Good - do the right thing the Right way and you get the best results

P - Lawful Neutral - follow the rules and you won’t get hurt

D - Neutral Evil - I’m tired just kill yourself

Hogwarts House

A - Gryffindor

E - Slytherin / Gryffindor

L - Ravenclaw / Slytherin

P - Gryffindor

D - Hufflepuff

D&D Class

A - Sorcerer

E - Druid

L - Wizard

P - Ranger

D - Rogue

MBTI / my function stack

A - ESFP / Se

E - ENFP / Fi

L - ENTJ / Te

P - ISTP / inferior Ni

D - INFP - none, hes a disorder

God Tier 

A - Maid of Breath

E - Knight of Space

L - Sylph of Mind

P - Mage of Rage

D - Page of Doom

High School Superlatives

A - Best Person to Travel With

E - Most Likely to Help Hide a Body

L - Most Likely to Succeed

P - Best Person to Get Stranded With

D - Worst Case of Senioritis

Vices/Virtues

A - Sex/Kindness

E - Rage/Courage

L - Overwork/Diligence 

P - Alcohol/Vigilance 

D - Drugs/Humility

When Stressed

A - loses all sense of direction and will jump onto the first suggestion someone makes to relieve the stress. Gets paranoid about appearance. Easily becomes overwhelmed/sensory overloaded and needs soft things, stim things, and fidgit toys to keep from becoming entirely incoherent.

E - Gets really impatient and short with people. If the stress escalates they will angry cry from frustration. Slams doors, yells unnecessarily.

L - Comes to a complete stop. They can’t complete a thought coherently and are easily confused. Prone to quitting from distress, coming to the conclusion that the most logical thing is to remove ones self from the stress while also stuck on the fact that it’s stressful because it’s too important to ignore. They basically experience blue screen of death by becoming a feedback loop of “oh no”.

P - The paranoia is in full bloom. they can get delusional and jumpy. Fears intensify. Outwardly, the only sign that somethings wrong is the occasional thousand yard stare or, contrastly, they get hyper vigilant. They’re just always ready.

D - Nap Time. If naps are not acquired they become crazy aggressive and verbally abusive. Every problem is a personal attack and it must be Gene’s fault. Craves death but will settle for a razor.

When They Like Someone

A - a smooth motherfucker. loves the seduction game. will wear lingerie under her clothes in case the opportunity arises to take it off ;)

E - Skittish. romance is the one emotional department they always fumble with. will compliment a lot and try to win them over, but takes a long time to act on anything for fear of misreading the other person’s intentions and making them uncomfortable.

L - Direct. knows the importance of presentation and is a good manipulator, so may implement their skills unintentionally. Really they just want the other person on the same page as them.

P - Suspicion. they normally aren’t attracted to someone unless the other person flirts first, and they are distrustful of others’ intentions. only once they feel safe with their crush will they act more directly and can actually be very charming.

D - Obsession and Despair. This person becomes their everything, which terrifies them, so they try and pull away to avoid getting hurt, and then get upset that the person isnt paying enough attention to them, and then the “im unlovable” spiral begins.

When Injured (with irl experiences oops)

A - powers through with force of will. will convince herself that its not a big deal. would probably try to finish a marathon with a broken leg. not stubborn if told to seek help, however, theyre just really bad at judging the severity/urgency of an injury. (went through their day without a care in the world after a head injury, legit didn’t think it was a big deal. the bump just looked nasty)

E - stubborn as a mule to keep up their badass image. will brush off most things even if they know its bad news. the only time the facade drops is when theyre alone, and then theyre a mess. (helped someone move despite the fact that they were seriously ill. hid it the whole time. collapsed when they got home)

L - reacts appropriately to the situation. has an objective enough knowledge of medicine and anatomy to assess the severity and urgency of an injury and will seek help if needed. 

P - Panic. has a slight inclination to hypochondria that only comes out when something is wrong. stubbed tow? its broken. stomach ache? it could be cancer or their appendix is gonna burst. weird symptoms they dont recognize? absolutely positive theyre gonna die. if they cant see whats wrong the panic is worse. is actually not bad dealing with flesh wounds, but still wont hesitate in seeking care. (full blown panic attack when a uti started exhibiting unfamiliar symptoms and couldn’t receive immediate care)

D - secrecy. wont tell anyone. 10/10 most likely to silently stitch up a wound themselves and no one would be the wiser. (suffering silently through a migraine without medication, cleaning up self harm cuts)

Negative Influences

A - Reckless behavior, abandoning obligations in favour of a fun activity, drug use

E - Being argumentative, “anyone who doesnt agree with me is the enemy” knee jerk reaction, grudges

L - Obsessive behavior, hyper focus, over rationalizing feelings away

P - Irrational fears, distrust of others, exhausting hyper vigilance

D - Depression my dudes, self worth issues, self harm in all forms

Positive Influences

A - Trying new things, Courage, enjoying the simple pleasures

E - Passion, Moral compass, Determination

L - keeping my life structured, love of learning, the designer

P - self preservation, observing others’ personal boundaries, being prepared

D - ?????, keeps me from becoming too powerful,, ???????

When To Worry About Them

A - would rather stay home than go out, reclusive behavior

E - either theyre constantly fuming or they become painfully apathetic

L - none of their ideas make sense, language issues

P - always v stressed

D - smiley mask, overly compliant, overly positive

How They Chill

A - Nature Walks

E - Low Key hangouts with friends

L - Coloring books

P - Music - will often chill and listen to music with Daryl

D - Sleep - falls asleep while listening to music with Pandora

ill probly add onto this when i think of more stuff, but here for now

Self Care

A - Dressing up, cuz looking good for your own sake does wonders for emotional wellbeing

E - Talking to people, it’s not fair to you or your friends to shut them out, and the attention makes Adrienne happy

L - Hot Shower. As well as being good hygiene, hot showers improve circulation and relax muscles and the mind

P - cooking a whole meal for yourself, because you have a penchant for denying yourself food, and its a creative, mentally stimulating activity that gets you moving and is satisfying

D - He’d say sleep, but he always wants to sleep so its mostly detrimental. So he’s with Laura on hot showers, but like, in the dark. They’re good for if you’re upset, or nauseous, or tired, or have a migraine, or need a cry. Don’t gotta put much thought into it, if somethings wrong it can probably be fixed with a shower. Also the warmth is super nice, and a locked dark bathroom is basically the most secure place you have access to. AND you can use nice smelling soaps and stuff, so Addy is happy too. Showers are just default best.

Which Sanders Sides theyre most like

A - Patton

E - Roman

L - Logan

P - Anxiety

D - get fucked

As My Friends… 

A - Kevin - big puppy dog, adventure/food/trouble friend

E - John - loud and proud and also my libra buddy

L - Owen - too smart jesus christ

P - Bri - anxiety ridden and prepared for everything

D - Jake - seriously hes the embodiment of depression anyway its horrifying

Physical Details

A - always wearing body glitter. nothing too Extra but just enough for a slight shimmer

E - has all the tattoos ive ever fantasized about. when i think up a new one it gets added to the collection. the buffest looking; when they work out they go for tone cuz they love the look

L - the only one who wears glasses. also wears a binder cuz theyre most comfortable flat-chested

P - carries any injuries i have at the time, including random bruises or cuts. actually the strongest even though they dont look it

D - has cuts all up their arms. they’re normally wrapped in bandages or hidden under hoodies. Deep under eye bags and the thinnest by far cuz they never heckin eat

Group Opinion

A - despite being the oldest everyone sees her as the little sister they need to protect. they love when shes happy and they all put in efforts to keep her out of too much trouble for the most part

E - they see them as a bit of an egomaniac, which isnt too far off. they are the judicial voice of the group, keeping everyone in line. those who deviate too far face their wrath.

L - the nerd. the others actually try to dismiss them a lot, since a lot of times they end up holding the group back. wildly unappreciated even though theyre normally right and helpful

P - doesn’t normally pop into group discussions, and is more of a casual observer, only participating when necessary. the others appreciate this about them, because for real if they contributed all the time id be a lot more stressed out

D - the villain. everyone always attacks everything they say (with good reason). despite this they still somehow end up winning a pretty good amount of decisions, cuz they are disgustingly good at twisting words and appealing to what at least one of the others wants. no one trusts them

[anthonybialy]

Over-Impeached

It would be beyond easy to minimize this vulgar buffoon’s presidency. And those who dedicated their very full lives to doing so can’t pull it off. Resistance warriors would muck it up less if they only went after Donald Trump part-time. He might have quit if they didn't try at all.

A president so coarse that you don't even need to reply to his lame insults can gesture to the mental patients opposing him to look sane by comparison. His words stand on their own, which you wouldn't know from those so furious that they flip tables while screeching their one-word mantra that starts with “im” and ends with “peachment.” Say it louder for those trying to not let politics dominate thoughts constantly and wretchedly.

If life is a drag, feel grateful you don't wake up every day and decide the person more loathsome than orphanage-targeting Nazi hurricanes is going to define every waking moment. The frenzied devotion to removing a president before an election isn't as fun of a countdown as you'd think.

Blame the lack of evidence. Political sleuths just know Russia did something. Also, that particular autocratic gangster nation and central planning marvel is bad now. A country those who miss the Berlin Wall used to laugh about when others referred to an evil rival remains their best hope for removing Trump from office in handcuffs, which is to say no hope at all. But why would a little detail like evidence stop those who think the government is good at student loans?

The real way to trump Trump is through reasonable policy, but that implies neo-pinkos are reasonable people. Anti-Donald zealots from his former party went the Year Zero route instead. Principled liberalism doesn't work, of course, but it might appeal to those tired of aggressive federal action overcompensating for weak ideas from purported conservatives.

Yet it's tough to embarrass a president while pushing policies that'd make Daniel Ortega blush. A brute who often slips into strongman fantasies should be easy to embarrass. Or, give the Boston Bomber voting rights while disarming law-abiding Americans. Call to socialize the hell out of health care and education to let Trump seem devoted to small government, at least on a scale.

It's shocking true believers who think reverting to windmills will create jobs could make a mistake about how events unfolded. Yet here we are wondering how we got so sick of the word “collusion” that most refuse to talk about removing a president they dislike so much. The exhausting overreaction is either a horrid miscalculation or a demonstration of Trump’s only power, namely making his critics even more demented than he is. The lack of rationality either way sure is making self-righteous persecution junkies seem like welcome alternatives.

The furor over Trump's policies perhaps stems from him sharing so many of theirs. Take a sudden liberal revulsion to tariffs, which shows how many people's ideology is dedicated to persons. I'm glad to see who's suddenly for open markets, although I expect the conversion will reverse if there's ever a semi-conservative president ever again.

Gentle compassionate liberals are supposed to guide us into the inspiring future while they can't predict even basic outcomes. The pattern of delusion doesn’t quite speak well to their ability to govern. Claiming wild conspiracies legitimizes the last president who needs it.

Trump is the luckiest bastard to ever grace our dumb planet. The impossibly blessed loudmouth has responded to unbelievable good fortune by whining about victimhood his entire life, including through his freaking presidency. The least deserving president possible doesn't realize it because he's so used to it. You don't notice the temperature if you're born in a hot tub. I'm sure we'll never get sick of constant bitching about how unfairly he's treated, which is news to seven billion non-Trump humans who weren't handed a hollow real estate empire that gullible types could be convinced via bellowing was Earth's most successful company.

It's very muscular of our humble executive to constantly moan like someone without access to authority. He should find who's in charge and demand change. Trump's only filling the most prominent job in the world. At the same time, he has reason to believe scheming forces are illegitimately after him, and there's nothing worse than giving a paranoid person a reason to feel legitimately victimized.

Shaking with anger while fretting about the Fourth Reich's installation during a potential horrifying second term may not be registering. In fact, the best way to cope with Trump is to not reply at all. He thrives on negative reactions like a very mature adult in his eighth decade, so why not deprive him of that smug smile? They could actually give him their time and let him mouth off, as he functions as his own counterargument. Nothing hurts Trump more than Trump.

And yet those who think government can control human impulses can't help themselves. Allowing an impossible braggart to get them upset is just what he wants. Trump's business plan is to sucker others into jumping in the black hole. Anyone with even a rudimentary understanding of spacetime physics can tell you no light escapes.

The unimaginable gravitational pull explains why we live through such a dark time. But no science can encapsulate the desire to be torn apart for the sake of making an enemy feel bad. He's so used to the gravity well that he doesn't even notice the distortion. Meanwhile, everything ends up warped.

[jamesgeiiger]

Financial SEER: A Way To Quantify Risk Tolerance And Determine Appropriate Equity Exposure

This post is for someone who is wondering:

Whether they have the proper asset allocation

Whether they should sell equities and buy bonds

How to reduce investment stress while still benefitting from returns

How to quantify their risk tolerance

How to continue moving forward on their path to financial freedom despite all the uncertainty

One of my primary goals on Financial Samurai is to help readers build meaningful wealth in a risk-appropriate manner. Because I started my career soon after the 1997 Asian Financial Crisis, I’ve experienced a lot of carnage as many international college students in the US had to drop out due to a sudden and massive devaluation of their respective home country’s currencies. I fully appreciate how hazardous the road to building great wealth can be.

Even the best-made plans can be laid to waste due to some unforeseen exogenous variable. We always hope for good surprises along the way. Unfortunately, life always has a way of kicking us in the face after knocking us in the teeth. Let’s always be thankful for what we have and demonstrate kindness to those who are experiencing difficult times.

Most investors overestimate their risk tolerance, especially investors who’ve only been investing with significant capital since 2009. Once the losses start piling up, it’s not only the melancholy of losing money that starts getting to you, it’s the growing fear that your job might also be at risk.

You might also erroneously think that the richer you get, the higher your risk tolerance. After all, the more money you have, the bigger your buffer. This is a fallacy because the more money you have, the larger your potential loss. For most rational people, their lifestyles don’t inflate commensurately with their wealth. This is why even rich people can’t resist a free rubber chicken lunch.

Further, there will come a time when your investment returns have a larger impact on your net worth than your earnings. As a result, the richer you are, the more dismayed you will be to lose money. Your main hope for recovery is a rebound in investment performance because your work earnings won’t contribute much at all.

How Most Of Us Rescue Our Investments

The reason we all continue to fight in this difficult world is because we have hope. But eventually, our hope fades because our brains and bodies slow down. When we’re younger, we often think ourselves to be invincible. Then, eventually, we start experiencing the realities of aging.

It is due to our fading abilities that we must bring down our risk exposure as we age. It is only the rare bird that goes all-in after making enough money to last a lifetime to try and make so much more. Sometimes they turn into billionaires like Elon Musk. But most of the time they end up going broke and filled with regret.

The only way most of us can rescue our investments after a market swoon is through contributions from earned income i.e. our salaries. We tell ourselves that when the markets are down, that’s alright because we’ll simply invest more at lower prices.

However, lower prices don’t necessarily mean better value if estimates are cut, but all other things being equal, we like to trick ourselves into believing we’re getting a better deal all the same.

To understand reward, we must first understand risk. Since 1929, the median bear market price decline is 33.51%, while the average bear market price decline is 35.43% since 1929.

Therefore, it’s reasonable to assume that the next bear market could also bring equity valuations down by 35% over an 8 – 10 month period.

Let me share a quantifiable way to measure how much equity exposure you should have based on your risk tolerance.

I’m calling it the Financial Samurai Equity Exposure Rule or Financial SEER. It’s an appropriate acronym because seer means a person who is supposed to be able, through supernatural insight, to see what the future holds.

How To Quantify Your Risk Tolerance

Most people just regularly invest in stocks over time through dollar cost averaging. They have little concept of whether the amount of stocks they have as part of their portfolio or their net worth is risk appropriate.

Hence, to quantify your risk tolerance based on your existing portfolio, use the following formula:

(Public Investment Portfolio Amount X 35%) / Monthly Gross Income.

For example, let’s say you have a $500,000 public investment portfolio and make $10,000 a month. To quantify your risk tolerance, the formula is: $500,000 X 35% = $175,000 / $10,000 = 17.5.

This formula tells you that you will need to work an 17.5 ADDITIONAL months of your life to earn a GROSS income equal to how much you lost in a -35% bear market. After taxes, you’re really only making around $8,000 a month, so you will actually have to work closer to 22 more months and contribute 100% of your after-tax income to be whole.

But it gets worse. Given you need to pay for basic living expenses, you need to work even longer than 22 months. Good thing stocks tend to rebound after an average bear market duration of 10 months, if you can hold on.

Given everybody has a different tax rate, I’ve simplified the formula using a gross monthly income figure instead of a net monthly income figure. Feel free to adjust the Risk Tolerance Multiple based on your personal income tax situation.

Quantifying risk tolerance by calculating working months is the best way to go because time is money. The more you value your time, the more you hate your job, and the less you desire to work, the lower your risk tolerance.

The classic scenario is a 68-year-old retiree with a $1,000,000 portfolio living off $20,000 a year in Social Security and $20,000 in dividend income from his portfolio.

If his portfolio loses 30% of its value, it is almost impossible to recover the lost $300,000 on his $20,000 a year fixed income. His dividend income may be likely be cut as well as companies hold onto their cash for survival. The only thing this retiree can do is pray the market eventually goes up while cutting spending.

How To Determine Appropriate Equity Exposure

After you have quantified your risk tolerance by assigning a Risk Tolerance Multiple = the number of months you need to work to make up for your potential bear market loss, take a look at this guide below.

My guide will not only give you an idea of what your Risk Tolerance Multiple is, but it will also give you an idea of what your maximum equity exposure should be based on your risk tolerance. Solutions!

My advice to all investors is to not risk more than 18 months worth of gross salary on your equity investments using an assumed 35% average bear market decline in your public investment portfolio.

In other words, if you make $10,000 a month, the most you should risk is a $180,000 loss on a $514,285 pure equity portfolio.

The Max Equity Exposure formula =  (Your Monthly Salary X 18) / 35%.

You can certainly have a larger overall public investment portfolio than $514,285 in this example, but I wouldn’t risk much more than $514,285 in equities only if you have only a $10,000 a month gross salary.

You can have $514,285 max in equities plus $250,000 in AAA-rated municipal bonds if you wish, for a reasonable 67%/33% equities fixed income split. Your total portfolio size would therefore be $764,285.

Adjust The Assumptions As You See Fit

If you think the next bear market will only decline by 25%, feel free to use 25% in the Max Equity Exposure formula. In the above example, the result would be ($10,000 X 18) / 25% = $720,000 of maximum equity exposure for someone making $120,000 a year.

If you just got promoted and plan to see 20% YoY earnings growth for the next five years, you could use your current monthly salary and a higher Risk Tolerance Multiple to determine your equity exposure. For example, let’s say you currently make $10,000 a month, but expect to make $20,000 a month in five years, You also think stocks will go down by 25% at most. The calculation would therefore be: ($10,000 X 36) / 25% = $1,440,000 as your target or maximum equity exposure.

If you decide to live like a hermit in a low cost town in the middle of nowhere, you could increase your Risk Tolerance Multiple to 36. But you’ve got to question your money priorities for trying to make a bigger return only to never spend your rewards.

Remember, whatever your Risk Tolerance Multiple is, you will have to increase it by 1.2 – 3X to truly calculate how many more years you will need to work to recover from your bear market losses due to taxes and general living expenses.

It is a judgment call regarding how much equity risk you should take. If you’ve quadrupled your net worth after a 9-year bull market, it’s probably wise to lower your risk exposure multiple. Conversely, after a 30%+ correction in equities, it’s probably wise to increase your risk exposure multiple.

The closer you get to retirement, the lower your multiple should be as well. Nobody wants to get close to the financially free finish line only to break a leg and get carted off in an ambulance.

Be A Rational Investor With Financial SEER

The valuation of everything is dependent on current and future earnings. It takes time and energy to create those earnings from your job or your business. If you are seriously burning out, please dial down risk and give yourself some time to heal.

For the average person in a normal economic cycle, a gross Risk Tolerance Multiple of 18 is my recommendation. Most people have the fortitude to waste up to around 2-3 years of their lives to gain back what they’ve lost from a bear market. But after three years of digging out of a hole, things start to feel hopeless as the average person starts giving up.

Remember, things could always be worse! Not only could your stock investments lose more than 35%, you could lose all your home equity due to leverage, your business, your job, and your spouse as well. Please invest rationally and responsibly.

I hope the Financial Samurai Equity Exposure Rule (SEER) has helped you take the subjective term of risk tolerance, and shaped into something quantifiable. You now have a concrete way of determining your equity exposure and risk tolerance.

Financial SEER formulas:

Risk Tolerance = (Public Investment Portfolio Amount X Expected Percentage Decline) / Monthly Gross Income

Maximum Equity Exposure = (Your Monthly Salary X Risk Tolerance Multiple) / Expected Percentage Decline

Related Posts:

Recommended Net Worth Allocation By Age Or Work Experience

The Proper Asset Allocation Of Stocks And Bonds By Age

Readers, how do you quantify risk tolerance? How many months are you willing to work to make up for potential losses in your portfolio? Is your equity exposure appropriate for your risk tolerance? What is your Risk Tolerance Multiple? 

The post Financial SEER: A Way To Quantify Risk Tolerance And Determine Appropriate Equity Exposure appeared first on Financial Samurai.

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