#reblogging oldies

[pumpk-n]

something red 💌

[rainbowbeanstyles]

don't mind me im just posting some great fics i've been rereading non stop that you have to read🫶

Bulletproof by justahappycloud

No Good Deed (Goes Unpunished) by JasTheLarrie

The Green Room by JasTheLarrie

Of Sunshines and Sweethearts by tippitytap

Bitter Ends Turn Sweet In Time (Is That True For Yours And Mine?) by tippitytap

I Want To Tell You That I Love You (but i can't speak) by tippitytap

my gorgeous, my darling by tippitytap

Golden by sheyla

Desperation Was My Sanctuary by InsightfulInsomniac

i would know you from touch alone by staybeautiful

On The Horizon by FitzAndLarry

wanting you, haunting me by honey_beeing

My Hands at Risk, I Fold by yourgorgeouscolors

Wither & Bloom by The_Dixie_Pixie

Caffeine Withdrawals by corrinebailey

if we make it through december, we'll be fine by penceypansy

different lengths, different stories, all too good!

[superkooku]

Perseus' Grandson : first impressions

Ok ! I found a way to translate the Russian version of Perseus' Grandson from Henry Lion Oldie in a way that's actually readable (not perfect, but still...)

Btw I'd like to thank @alaknog for being willing to help me on this journey. I have some questions, feel free to answer them when you can, be it in a reblog or a DM.

And thanks to @sarafangirlart for exposing me to probably the best Perseus retelling (in my opinion) out there. Idk, the plot summary already sold me 😂. If it keeps its promises, then I'm in for a good time.

I'll post my first few impressions on my blog. Spoiler alert, obviously. I'll try to summarize the story so it's understandable, but those are mostly impressions and rambling. If anyone has a question, feel free to ask.

The parod

Genius title for a first part. Referencing ancient greek tragedies, especially with such a beginning.

Btw, it's about Perseus' death. Yeah,

He lies on his deathbed, surrounded by his loved ones. I like that we don't make him die in battle, that's more personal.

Andromeda is still alive, presented as a severe and headstrong woman that doesn't cry, despite being besides her dying husband. Idk it's different from the usual damsel in distress/self-sacrificing stuff we have. It's a welcome change :3

There's also Sthenelus, Gorgophone and ofc Amphitryon (our main character). The whole family is here on this tragic occasion. Idk it's weird in a good way to see them being acknowledged.

Ok, so the translation says "little Medusa/baby Medusa", and I was confused for a while. But I realized it's about Sthenelus' daughter, Astymedusa.

It talks about Zeus bringing his "son" to Olympus. But Perseus is dying, so is he being deified or is Oldie talking about someone else ?

Pretty original opening chapter, honestly. It begins on a strong/sad note and we're introduced to the family.

Episode 1 - Part 1

Ok, this scene was super confusing until @alaknog told me that there were OCs. I spent 30 minutes of research for nothing, lol.

Also, the translator keeps changing their names.

There's a dude called Lycus, his twin brother Firay (It doesn't sound that greek, but it's a translation from a russian reading of an OC name. We'd probably read it as Phireus or smth like that)

Plus one of Leucothea's sons with a mortal captain named Triton. All OCs

The argument is about Amphitryon being cursed because of Pelops' bloodline and him denying it.

They're fishing on a boat.

Little details about Amphitryon's youth like his mother calling him "my bull" or him biting Pelops' finger on their first meeting as a baby. Idk, I like it.

The twins are constantly teasing Amphitryon about him being cursed. And they have each other's back. They're rowdy boys.

They have two other OC siblings : Chrysus and the youngest called Polyphemus (obviously not the cyclops)

Annnnd that's when the chapter becomes less "teenage boys making fun of each other" and darker.

There's Chrysus, panicked, that comes announces that Polyphemus got killed by their own mother.

And the mother is dancing in the courtyard like nothing happened...

Oh wait... the mother killing her offspring... like Agave and the Minyades ! I'm smelling some good ol' dionysian madness over here.

If I'm right, then I'm in for a good time.

So far, I don't have much to say about the character dynamics, except for funny sibling interactions and the nice side of getting to know Amphitryon. Not much about his personality, though again, the translation makes it hard to understand subtext.

Episode 2 - Part 2

Oh goodness 😱😱, I was right ! The boys, probably searching for the mother, find her doing, well, maenad stuff (screaming Bacchos in an evohe, running around with torn clothes, etc.)

She's even dancing on the baby's corpse like he's not even there... ok, he's not even in the book yet but I can already confirm this is the most accurate adaptation of Dionysus I've seen

The twins' father is here. I think she's injured him and he has a broken arm. Anyway, he's crying. Understandable reaction.

I love how she's compared to an Erynie working for Hades and are like "no he's not the one responsible". Funny involuntary jab at Clash of Titans 🤣.

Lycus tries to get his mother back to her senses but his dad and Phireus push him, like "ARE YOU STUPID OR DO YOU WANT TO DIE ?".

The men are terrified of who will be targeted by madness next. Again, understandable. Dionysus' wrath would be a nightmare to handle

Ok, so the people are stuck in a dilemma : Dionysus' wrath or the Basilei's (the king's)

The king is Perseus, who comes in to see the mess. He's introduced like an uninvited guest, a stranger, who could be in his 60s.

This chapter takes place before the beginning considering, yeah, he's still alive.

Also, he's bald ??? We have bald Perseus now ??

I love how Amphitryon instantly glosses over the crazy woman dancing with a baby corpse and is like "yay ! Gramps !" 😂

But it means Perseus is a good grandfather who spends time with his grandson, super nice detail

Anyways, Perseus comes to the crazed mother and recognizes an invisible presence (jee, I wonder who it may be 🤔...)

Then she attacks him like a wild beast, but he firmly holds her arm, restraining her.

Also, he defeated her until she was lying unconscious on the floor, not showing any emotion. Probably because he's done it before or because any sign of weakness could be used against him.

The mother is clearly dehumanized. Her name isn't used, she's compared to a monster, an Erynie, a creature. It serves the scary factor pretty well. It's not a mother anymore, but a tornado, an animal, subject to godly insanity.

Perseus crushes grapes on her wrist and... she's neutralized. Does the maenads' strength come from magical madness grapes here ? Or is crushing grapes a metaphor ?

If Perseus is emotionless, Spartacus much less so. According to the dialogue, they went to neutralize some group of maenads but he couldn't do the same for his wife.

I say neutralize because I don't know if she's still alive or not. Probably...

Ok : more about Perseus and Amphitryon. The former drags the latter away from the chaos, in private.

Amphitryon seems to both admire and fear Perseus. He's a pretty intimidating man but, since he's pretty old, his grandson struggles to see him as the youthful gorgon-slayer. The more Amphitryon grew, the more he admired Perseus... interesting.

Lol, the text says that the people fear Perseus more than Zeus' lightning, because the lightning is far from them. Latina mom energy 😂😂

Perseus "the destroyer" they call him.

Lots of good stuff in this chapter !!

I like how he implications of having a maenad wife are shown. Perseus knows she doesn't recognize her husband and doesn't mind slaughtering any obstacle, but Spartacus doesn't have the strength to fight her.

Also, the baby killing. Yes that actually happened in mythology 😅 (not with this character, that's an OC, but to king Minyas' daughters for example. They refused to worship Dionysus and that didn't end well...)

And anyone following my account for a while could see how much I was craving scary Dionysus stuff in adaptations. Here it is ! And it doesn't disappoint. I don't care about the messy translation anymore, I have to continue.

Istg Dionysus is treated like an ominous distant enemy. His name isn't spoken, only the two first letters by (I think) Lycus, before being interrupted. Cthulu-like enemy, lol. I'm curious about the "crushing grapes" thing as well.

But small bald Perseus is so funny to picture XD. I like him so far, he's like one of those cranky grandpas who are war veterans. Or like strong old men in anime. And he had a badass moment, confronting a maenad while everyone else was terrified.

You know what ? From now on, he looks like this in my mind :

Like an angry Master Roshi with an armor, lol (imagine Perseus, like Master Roshi, being able to hide his muscles to seem like a chill old man and then BOOM: the destroyer is there !)

[showmethehotpods]

[gumnut-logic]

“Get your feet off the dash!”

Gordon, of course, paid him no attention. Laid back in the co-pilot’s seat, he languished, reading his tablet.

Virgil stalked across the cockpit with his coffee, thoroughly satisfied with his decision to grab the last piece of cake. “Get your feet off the dash, or I will remove them myself.”

“Geez, Virg. Take a chill pill.” The feet stayed on the console.

Sitting down, Virgil reached over and retracted the co-pilot’s seat, sending it flying backwards. Gordon’s feet hit the deck with a thud.

“Ow! What is your problem?” The aquanaut glared at him.

“At this very moment? You.”

“Huh? Well, you just need to relax, man. C’mon, we’ve got an hour at least. Put your feet up and take a moment. It’s not like we get many.” Gordon returned to his tablet, a slight frown on his face. A foot lifted up…

“You put your foot anywhere near that console and you are swimming home.”

The foot dropped back to the deck and Gordon turned his back to his brother.

Virgil sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, leaning back and letting the sound of his girl vibrate through his bones, to shake away the aggravation. Gordon was right about one thing. It was a rare moment to sit and do nothing. They were returning from a boat rescue in Norway. A ferry had collided with a fishing boat and both were taking on water. Fortunately, Thunderbird Two and the two brothers were already in Scotland assisting with a North Sea exploratory station when it happened and were able to dart across to Scandinavia and rescue the three hundred and five people involved. A very successful rescue had been had despite the freezing cold.

Now they just needed to cross two oceans to get home again.

“So, boxers or briefs?”

“What?” He turned to look at his younger brother.

“Boxers or briefs? Which is it?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“It’s not me, its these IRFs. They are having a discussion about our preferences.” An eyebrow raised as he peered closer at his tablet.

“Irfs?”

“International Rescue Fans. C’mon, Virg, get with it, you know we have groupies.”

“If you say so.”

“So, boxers or briefs?”

“If you had lifted a finger in your life to assist with the laundry, you wouldn’t have to ask.”

“I do laundry.”

“You do piles of unwashed clothes.”

“They get washed eventually.”

“Yes, but not by you.”

“Eh, washed is washed, Virgo.”

Virgil sputtered into his coffee and turned towards his brother. “Virgo?” There was enough warning in his tone to arm a nuclear warhead.

Gordon smiled up at him. “Virgo.” A glare full of dare.

“Say that again.”

“Virgo.” Gordon grinned. “Virgo, Virgo, Virgo.” Then he laughed out loud. “Virgo!”

-o-o-o-

Alan Tracy was chasing a demented autovac when the holographic system in the comms room flashed on. He stood up, fully expecting to see John, but was surprised to encounter a giant foot flickering in the middle of the living room.

He snatched up the autovac before it could escape, but jumped when the comms shouted in Virgil’s voice, ‘Get your feet off the dash!’

He stared. Definitely Gordon’s boot, yellow stripe and all. ‘Get your feet off the dash, or I will remove them myself.’

‘Geez, Virg. Take a chill pill.’

There was a clunk and suddenly the boot disappeared to be replaced by an angry Virgil and an exasperated Gordon. It became immediately clear that they had no idea they were transmitting. Alan stepped back and around the transmitter making sure to keep out of range of the holoprojector. A quick look at the channel reassured him that it was secure to International Rescue, he could see it, the team could see it, but no one outside the organisation had access, thankfully. He reached out to kill the connection.

‘So, boxers or briefs?’

His hand hesitated.

-o-o-o-

Virgil glared at his brother. He could kill him, but that would be messy and the paperwork would suck. “You are so not worth it.” He turned back to his coffee.

“Virgo. Hey, Virgo! Virgo. Virgo. Virgo!”

“WHAT?!”

“Made you answer.”

Maybe the paperwork would be worth it. “What is it with you?!”

“What is it with you? You’re the one who is all grumpy pants.”

“I wonder why.” He buried his face in his coffee, fighting against the tension in his shoulders.

“So do I. You’ve been like a bear with a sore head all day. It has been a good day. We’ve saved hundreds of lives. Nobody died. We have a moment of peace and you’re a grumpy ass.”

The knots twisted tighter. “There has been no moment of peace, Gordon. You simply won’t shut up!”

“This is not you, Virgil! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“There is nothing wrong with me! It is you! You’re being an irritating pain in the ass. Why don’t you shut up and leave me in peace!”

“Fine.”

Gordon grabbed his tablet, shot to his feet and stormed out of the cabin.

Oh, thank god.

-o-o-o-

Scott was halfway across the Pacific when the transmission came in. He was on his way back from Japan, having been requested to speak at a seminar for GDF first responders. It wasn’t often IR appeared anywhere but at rescues, but this had been a special request from Colonel Casey and having personally met some of the attendees at said rescues, he had made an exception. He may not be able to share their technology, but shared experience could help save many more lives. Security had been tight, but Kayo had insisted on going with him in any case. Her ‘Bird was pacing him a few hundred metres behind.

The sight of his brother’s footwear caused a smirk. He opened his mouth to interrupt, but something held him back.

It was worth a laugh at first, ‘Boxers or briefs?’ But then something soured, it all went wrong, his brothers were yelling at each other. Gordon was being his usual jerk self, but Virgil was…Virgil was not Virgil.

Virgil was angry. Really angry. Something so out of character, so raw, it stunned him for a moment.

Gordon cracked and stormed out.

There was silence for a moment, and Scott saw all the energy, all the anger suddenly drain out of his brother. Virgil’s body slumped in his seat, his eyes closed, his face crumpling to one of anguish for just a moment before letting his head drop forward into his hands.

Oh god, was he crying?!

Scott’s mind blanked for a moment. What the hell had happened? What was wrong? Where had this come from?

Why hadn’t he seen it coming?

He reached out to contact his brother, but a hand landed on the holographic man’s shoulder and once again something held him back.

-o-o-o-

Gordon paused by the hatch, looking back at his hunched over brother. Well, that had failed absolutely brilliantly. He should have known better. Virgil was not Scott, he was not Alan, and nobody was John. Poking the bear could have worked, but obviously it didn’t.

He sighed under his breath.

He’d been watching his brother all day. Grumpy was a word, but it wasn’t quite the right word. His performance was excellent, of course. You don’t save three hundred odd people from the Norwegian Sea by being sloppy. He would never expect anything less from Virgil. But his spark had been missing. Even while in Scotland, even underwater in the new sea station surrounded by the vibrant life of the ocean, there had been a dead look in his brother’s eyes. It had bugged him. This wasn’t Virgil. Something was wrong. The gentle energy that poured off the man was absent and it left Gordon adrift.

So he poked the bear.

And somehow made it worse.

He wasn’t good at this. Damnit.

In the shadows of the cockpit, Virgil’s shoulders were shaking just that little bit.

Oh, man. He was so not the right person for this. Scott was going to kill him.

But there was something wrong and he was the only brother available. Drawing in a breath he stepped back into the cockpit, walked softly over to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder.

The uniform under his fingers jerked, and Virgil looked up, tired but dry eyes staring at him.

Oh, thank god. Tears were so far beyond his skill set, he would have ended up crying himself and then where would they have been? There was something about seeing his older, usually steadfast brother vulnerable that just tore as chunk out of his chest. A chunk he usually needed to breathe.

He crouched down by his brother’s seat, his hand slipping from the man’s shoulder to his thigh. Brown eyes tracked his movements, a slightly puzzled frown forming between them.

Well, honesty was apparently the best policy. “Tell me what you need, Virg. I want to help, but I’m not good at this. What is wrong?”

A slow blink. A deep voice, laced with a thread of strain. “Nothing is wrong, Gordon. I’m just tired.” His brother straightened in his seat, the façade falling back into place.

Aww, c’mon, Virg, I know I’m not Scott, but I’m not stupid either. Though, at least he wasn’t yelling at him anymore.

His hand tightened on tough fabric.

“I’m fine. Honest, Gordy.” Virgil sat up straighter in his seat. The façade got thicker, and Gordon couldn’t help but feel a tendril of rejection winding up his spine. It twisted as Virgil put a hand on his shoulder in reassurance. “It’s okay.”

“You don’t need to go all big brother on me, Virgil. I’m old enough to know when my brother is hurting, and I love you enough to try and do something to help you.”

The hand on his shoulder froze. And retreated.

Those brown eyes widened and, for just a moment, the vulnerability welled up, surfaced and was exposed.

-o-o-o-

Sally Tracy had her heart in her throat.

As the holograms played out before her she had been ripped from amusement, to worry, to fear, all wrapped in that all-encompassing love for her grandchildren.

She had an idea of what might be upsetting Virgil. Today had been a good day, but there had been weeks before today, that hadn’t. She’d been watching him, knowing he was prone to neglecting himself, knowing he tended to take in more than the other boys, his professional façade just that slightly more porous to the emotions of others.

She had planned to speak to Scott. They were due for another shopping trip. Due for a little time out.

But apparently Gordon had stepped up to the plate.

All her instincts were screaming to go to her boys, embrace them both, protect them from the world, but they were somewhere on the other side of the Pacific, several thousand metres up in the air. She only had holograms to reach out to.

And she dare not interrupt.

-o-o-o-

Virgil looked down at Gordon and saw the years of experience behind those eyes. Eyes not unlike his own, but framed by such a different face and personality, and just for that one moment, every thing washed away and all he felt was love for his little brother.

But the question was still waiting to be answered.

Virgil broke eye contact, looking down, and let his body go slack. “I don’t know, Gordon.” His voice was quiet, almost husky with exhaustion. “Maybe I am just tired.”

The hand on his knee tightened again. It wasn’t enough.

An exasperated sigh. “I don’t know! Maybe. It’s been a long stretch this time. Again.” His hands shot out for emphasis. “You said it yourself – it’s been a good day because nobody died!” And he was raising his voice again. “Is that really how we gauge our good days? Is the bar really that low?” Is this what his life was? Running from one misery to the next, desperately trying to keep his head above the terror and the pain? “Is this really a Good Day?”

-o-o-o-

John floated in space, his hand poised to reach for the off switch, frozen.

‘Is this really a Good Day?’

Something in his stomach curdled. His whole mind, body and self cringed away from the question. That way lay doubt, and loss, and change, and a multitude of other factors he was unwilling to consider.

Things are as they are because that is the way they are meant to be.

Elsewhere lay weakness, and reasons to be not as he is now.

Gordon didn’t answer immediately. His gaze drifted down as if marshalling his thoughts, before looking back up at his brother. ‘I don’t know, Virgil.’ He pressed his lips together. ‘All I know is that I have you, I have Scott, John, Alan, Kayo, Brains and Grandma.” He looked away, nibbling his bottom lip before turning back and latching onto his brother’s eyes. ‘We live an amazing life, Virg. We give up a lot, but there are people on this planet who will never see what we’ve seen. We have been everywhere. I mean Everywhere. And we make a difference. You make a difference. You have saved so many people, Virgil. So many souls. So many brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, mothers and fathers.’ He swallowed again before turning back to Virgil and pinning him with his eyes. ‘We have our health and we have each other, so, yes, Virgil, it is a damn good day.’

Gordon sat back on his heels.

‘And I know you know that, because you’ve told me on so many occasions that I can now spout it by rote. So tell me, what has my big brother forgetting one of his core mantras?’

John’s hand dropped to his side.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was forced to smile. He couldn’t help it. Part of him was so proud, so gobsmacked, so lucky to be family with this man. “I so love you right now.”

Gordon’s eyes widened and he stumbled backwards to his feet. “Aaw, man.”

“Hey, hey.” Virgil reached out and snagged his hand. Gordon tried to pull away, but for once, Virgil played on his strength. “Come here. Look at me.” Very much now the usual resistant younger brother, Gordon reluctantly looked down at Virgil. “That means a lot. You mean a lot. To me. Never forget that.” He gripped his brother’s hand a little tighter for emphasis before letting go.

Gordon rolled his eyes. “How could I with you around?” He shifted his feet. “Now spill. What’s been bugging you enough to bug the rest of us? C’mon, you ripped John a new one yesterday, Alan has been hiding from you for the last week, and if Scott asks me one more time if I’ve done anything to set you off, I’m going to leave something flammable in his bathtub. What is wrong, Virg?”

“Apart from you calling me, Virg?”

“It’s a pet name.” Virgil glared. “A sign of fondness?” He raised an eyebrow. “Would you prefer Virgo?”

“I’m a Leo.” Thank god he had been born a couple weeks early.

“I noticed. Several times today as you tried to tear my head off with your teeth.” He waved his hand in the direction of Virgil’s head. “And then there is that mane thing you’ve got going there.”

Virgil sighed, letting his shoulders drop, but didn’t answer.

“C’mon, Virg, tell me, so we can fix it.”

Virgil sighed. “Gordon, I appreciate what you are trying to do. I do, honestly. But-“ He threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know. Everything is just-“ He frowned. “I’ll speak to Alan and Scott when we get home, apologise. I can call John. I-“ A swallow. “I’ll try to be less of a bear.”

“I thought you were a lion.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Okay, smart ass.” A more serious tone. “I will do better, I promise.”

The scepticism on Gordon’s face was anything but encouraging. “I don’t want you to do better, I want you to be happy.”

-o-o-o-

There was a flicker of pain in Virgil’s eyes before he looked away.

Goddamnit! The guy just didn’t get it. This wasn’t about altering his behaviour, this was about finding the problem and getting help to fix it. Was it his innate selflessness or his pig-headed refusal to let anyone in?

Gordon turned his back on his brother and sat down in the co-pilot’s seat. So, honesty didn’t work. Check. There was even a dash of sensitivity in there for bonus points and that failed as well. Well, his toolbox was completely blown. Guess this would need to be handballed to Scott. After all the two eldest had that bond thing going. Maybe old blue eyes could talk some sense into him.

Of course, now the cockpit was ominously silent. Well as silent as it could get with those massive thrusters roaring out their backend. He eyed the navigation panel. Damn, still a good forty minutes to go before he could escape.

He eyed his brother sideways. Virgil was staring out the window, a lost look on his face, his fingers absently tapping out an agitated beat on the side console.

At least if they were home, Gordon could shove the man in front of his piano. The distraction couldn’t hurt. And hey, free music.

Virgil’s fingers continued to tap to an unseen beat.

Actually, come to think of it, he hadn’t heard Virgil playing the piano recently. He tried to think back to when he’d last heard or seen his brother playing his instrument. He frowned. There was Alan’s birthday…but that had been interrupted by that power plant in Saigon. Grandma’s birthday. He’d played that new composition just for her.

But that was over six months ago.

Damned if he could remember his brother sitting down to play at any other more recent time. Sure, it was a background thing for Gordon, he didn’t pay that much attention. Virgil played the piano, it was his thing, he was pretty damn good at it, and as long as it didn’t collide with what Gordon wanted to do, whatever.

But he knew enough to know that it was important to Virgil.

Like the water was important to Gordon.

He eyed his brother again. Virgil ran a tired hand through his hair. “What, Gordon?”

“Nothing.” He pointed towards the cockpit door. “I’m just going to go check on Thunderbird Four. Just remembered she hit some ice with her left thruster. Want to make sure there isn’t any damage.”

Virgil’s eyes betrayed him. He knew an excuse when he heard one. “Let me know if you need a hand.”

Gordon held back a flinch. “Will do.”

He escaped.

-o-o-o-

Brains jumped when the call came in. He hurriedly shut down his view of Virgil staring out the windows of Thunderbird Two, the guilt making him trip over his own chair.

“G-Gordon! Uh, what can I d-do for you?”

“Need your help, Brains.” The bright yellow of Thunderbird Four’s cockpit haloed the second youngest Tracy. “How is Virgil’s birthday present going?”

Blink. “Uh, as-sembled it yesterday. I’d still like to do a f-few last tests.”

“We need to give it to him today.”

“W-why?”

“It needs to be today, Brains. It can’t wait until next month. He needs it today. Can you upload it to Thunderbird Four?”

He did the math and considered the equipment specs needed. “You will need a secondary projector.”

“Will the one in TB4 do the job?”

“Yes.” He was going to cannibalise his own craft? But then considering what Brains had witnessed earlier…this might be a viable plan.

“Send it up. I’ll set it up.” He paused a moment. “I’m sorry, I know you’ve put a lot of work into it, but trust me. He needs this. He really does.”

“I trust you, G-Gordon.”

“Thank you. I owe you big time.”

“Y-you owe me n-nothing, Gordon. Just help him.” Yes, Brains had been a witness to the second eldest Tracy’s issues recently. All the boys had their moments, but Virgil in particular had been having a bad time. It was times like this that he missed Jeff the most.

Gordon signed off. Brains took a breath, let it out, and set to work.

-o-o-o-

Virgil’s coffee had gone cold. The cake still sat beside him, but it was forgotten.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He could not ask for more. There was no more. He had everything he could ever want. Gordon had proven that.

So why did he feel this way? Everything felt grey, lacklustre, colourless. He wasn’t sleeping well. Faces, so many faces.

He told Gordon he didn’t know because, honestly, he didn’t. Perhaps if he did, he could fix it himself, but so far, no clue.

The human body didn’t come with a manual.

“Virgil.”

He jumped. He hadn’t heard Gordon return. “How’s TB4? Any damage?”

“She’s good.” Gordon had something bundled in his hands. “Uh, I’ve got something for you.” He raised a hand full of electronics. “No, stay there. Here, just let me set this up.”

Gordon reached around him and put something yellow on the side console. Virgil frowned in alarm. “Is that Thunderbird Four’s holoprojector?”

“Yup. Here hold this while I plug this in.” Gordon reached around him again, plugging a cord into the main console. He then reached down and pulled the pilot’s chair back to it’s furthest distance from the dash.

“Hey. What are you up to?”

“Trust me, Virg, you are going to like this.”

“That’s exactly what you said when you decided Thunderbird Two needed a camouflage paint job.” He eyed the yellow holoprojector. “And Brains wanted to scalp you that time, too.”

“Brains, knows what I’m doing.”

“He does?”

“I said trust me, Virg.” He reached around to the other side of the pilot’s seat and placed down another holoprojector. “That should do it.” Another plug slid into the dash. Gordon stepped back and flipped a switch.

The two projectors threw out strands of light that met in the middle. They interwove above his lap, forming the familiar haze of your average hologram.

Virgil sucked in a breath.

“Wait for it.”

Secondary pulses of energy shot out and followed the tracings of the first display. The hologram focussed and intensified.

Into a piano keyboard.

Virgil looked up at his brother, vaguely aware that his mouth was open.

“Go on, touch it.”

He reached out a finger and brushed it against a single key. It touched back. It felt solid. “H-how?”

“Brains. He has been working on it for a while.” Gordon grinned. “Happy birthday, big brother.”

He couldn’t speak. He reached down and played a single note. It rung around the cockpit, echoing off her hard shell. He played another and it chased the first.

“Brains said you can make it as long as a full piano or shorter, depending on your needs. It is tied into the ship’s sound system here, but it will support a proper instrumental amplifier and all the gizmos you could want. Fully portable, of course. We can rig it up with its own specialised projectors when we get home.”

Virgil grabbed his hand and held it tight.

Gordon’s lips curved into a small smile.

Softly. “Play me something, Virgil.”

-o-o-o-

Kayo wasn’t one for crying. She was more likely to go out and injure a piece of gym equipment, but there was no punching bag in Thunderbird Shadow’s cockpit.

Her second eldest brother touched the keys. Hesitantly at first as he got a feel for the holographic instrument, testing the sound and response. A note here, a chord there, a simple tune, a practise routine. His lips parted, drawing in breath.

Then he closed his eyes, and feeling with only touch and sound, began to play.

Familiar notes, an old favourite. His fingers danced across the keys. As he fell into the music, she watched his face, his frown smoothing out and a slight, occupied smile curving his lips.

Gordon stood in the background, arms crossed over his chest, his own smile and just a hint of hope on his face.

The comfortable tune morphed into a more complex composition, the notes interweaving over and under each other. Grandma’s special piece made an appearance, Virgil’s smile deepening as the love behind it vibrated the air around him.

But soon it began to fade. Darker notes started to take precedence. The frown reappeared on her brother’s face. His fingers moved faster, the sounds became more strident and, suddenly, all familiarity was taken by emotion.

-o-o-o-

Scott sat in the dark of the hanger.

Oh, Virgil.

His brother’s fingers played as if of their own volition. Lost to the music, Virgil swayed gently in his seat. One hand spoke anger, the other spoke pain, but amongst the notes a single spritely tune spoke of hope. It interwove, dancing back and forth, teasing, only to be joined by a partner, then another.

All harmonised with the persistent background roar of Thunderbird Two.

-o-o-o-

His grandmother had tears running down her face.

Alan looked up at her, his own heart wretched. He had never heard his brother play like this. He was no classical music fancier, but this said so much more.

So much pain, but so much hope. It was as if the music was trying to save someone, reaching out with all its might, its fingertips straining to keep someone from falling.

It kept trying and trying.

-o-o-o-

Space wasn’t silent. It was crying.

John had his hand resting gently on EOS’ frame and his eyes closed. She had stopped asking him questions, stopped querying his reactions. She didn’t understand, but trusted that he did.

His other hand reached up to cover his eyes, whether to hide from the expression on his brother’s face or to try and comfort himself he didn’t know.

Virgil was bleeding music.

He hadn’t heard his brother cry in years, but this was, this was the sound of tears. How long had this been building up? How long had his brother been feeling this way?

But amongst all the pain, there was so much hope. A searching, a need, a determination. John looked up at his brother to find him biting his bottom lip, his frown of concentration so intense it looked painful.

“EOS, prepare the elevator. I need to go home.”

-o-o-o-

Gordon stood behind his brother getting worried. Had he screwed this up too?

It was like Virgil was throwing all of himself onto the keys. They were taking one hell of a pounding and Gordon hoped Brain’s handywork could support the abuse.

But it seemed Virgil needed to do it.

What appeared to be a little downer Gordon thought he could poke out of his brother, now seemed so much bigger. Gordon didn’t understand music much, so not his thing, but this was so primal, so raw…

It ached. It hurt.

The music rose suddenly to a yell, and some of the darker notes fell away. Virgil’s right hand danced across some of the higher pitched keys and the music began to lose weight, began to rise, the hope slowly overcoming the loss.

His brother’s head tipped slightly to one side still swaying just slightly, as the metre ticked the seconds by.

The song changed as the pain gradually slipped away. A strident single dance of keys became the lead, idly waltzing across the keyboard, back and forth. His left hand slowed leaving Virgil’s right to the majority of the tune, until it too began to slow.

Both hands came together, notes dropping like autumn leaves, the sound softer and softer, until there was five, then four, three, and two. One.

And silence.

Virgil slumped over the keyboard breathing heavily, his head in his hands.

“You have no idea how much I needed that.” It was muffled, but Gordon heard it.

No, dear brother, but I can see.

They sat in silence. No words. None wanted. Thunderbird Two continued her song.

Tracy Island appeared on the horizon.

“We’re home, Virg.” It was quiet, but Virgil heard him.

He sat up wearily, looking down at the keyboard, then back at his brother. “How?”

“Oh.” Gordon quickly cut the power to the hologram, unplugged and removed the projectors. He said nothing about the unshed tears in his brother’s eyes, just secured the precious equipment in preparation for landing.

Virgil shook himself, sat up straight, engaging his seat with the console, and was suddenly completely the professional pilot and International Rescue Operative he always was. Numbers started flying about the cockpit as autopilot was disengaged and Thunderbird Two began her descent towards home.

-o-o-o-

As his ‘Bird finished her rotation in her hanger, he cut off her engines and for the first time in so many hours, there was true silence.

He looked down at his hands, aware of what he had likely exposed to his brother, but ever so, so grateful. “Thank you, Gordon. For everything.”

“No thanks needed, bro.” Gordon climbed out of his co-pilot seat. “I’m just going to go and see to my little yellow submarine.” And he wandered off, as nonchalant as ever.

His big brother couldn’t help but smile.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was exhausted, but he had to check up on Scott and Kayo. For some reason they hadn’t reported making it back yet. He hoped it was only a communication glitch, because he didn’t think he had the energy to save anyone at this moment.

He was completely drained. Of everything.

It had been such a release to finally let himself fall into the music. Let it out, break the dam. He hadn’t realised it had been so long since he had played. He should know better. His art was his outlet. It was the only way to relieve the stress of his occupation and he hadn’t had time over the last few months to really sit down and let himself go. To busy, too tired, too interrupted, too everything.

He had to make a point of making time. He needed this or it would all fall apart. He should have recognised the signs, but again, too much of everything.

He had never thought Gordon…

God, he was a lucky man to have such a family.

Speaking of family…

He came up behind Gordon who was standing just inside the entrance to the comms room. Still in his uniform, like Virgil, he was standing almost at attention.

“Gordy, what-“

Then his eyes caught the tableau.

His entire family, including John and Brains, even Max and EOS were standing in the lounge staring at the two of them.

Grandma had tears in her eyes.

What the hell? “What’s wrong?” He dropped the bag he was carrying and rushed forward. “Grandma?” His hackles rose and he looked around the room attempting to find out what the source of the trouble was. His eyes latched onto Scott’s and found worry.

His grandmother reached up and gently turned him to face her. Her eyes were glistening. Her voice was rough. “You are a most wonderful boy.” And she had her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a tight embrace. “I love you. We love you. Never forget it.”

He looked up at Scott, getting more worried by the second. “What happened?”

It was Gordon who answered, his voice so quiet. “They heard it, Virgil. Heard it all.”

“Heard what?” Would someone please tell him what the hell was going on.

Scott moved closer to him. Virgil looked up as he approached, his brother’s wary expression setting off alarm bells in his head. He straightened, gently letting his grandmother find her feet as he turned to face his older brother.

A hand reached out and rested on his shoulder. “Virgil, Thunderbird Two’s comms have been open for the last hour. We all heard you and Gordon…and your music.”

Virgil’s heart dropped and his eyes widened. He took a step back, Scott’s hand falling from his shoulder. He swallowed to find his voice. “How?”

“Gordon’s feet on the dash.”

He spun around towards his co-pilot. Scott caught his arm. “Did you know?” Anger and acute embarrassment welled up.

But Gordon looked as horrified as he felt. His arms shot up defensively. “No, god, Virgil, no, I swear. I’d never –“ He took a step back. “It was an accident.”

“Virgil.” Scott was pulling him gently backwards. He turned to face his brother, his face flaming. “Are you okay?”

He grit his teeth. “I’m fine.” He moved to pull away, but Scott held him fast. “I’m fine!” Again he moved to pull away, but to his surprise, his brother pulled him into his arms and embraced him.

No words, Scott’s arms just tightened.

Virgil’s heart leapt up into his throat as he automatically hugged back. “Scott?”

The arms tightened even more before his brother finally pulled away, obviously fighting for composure. “You…you need to take better care of yourself.”

Embarrassment warred with regret. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t get to say that.” Kayo stalked over into his personal space, her expression angry. She shoved a finger into the centre of his chest. “Don’t you dare apologise and don’t you dare be embarrassed. That was the most powerful piece of music I have ever heard, and it was all you.” A breath. “You have no need to hide yourself, Virgil. We’re your family and just like Gordon we love you enough to want to help. I don’t know how long you’ve been bottling all that up, but if that help requires me to hogtie you to your piano every morning I will.”

He stared at her wide-eyed, but some of the embarrassment lifted. “You are truly scary.”

She stabbed him with her finger again. “And don’t you forget it.” A fond smile crept onto her face and it was her turn to wrap her arms around him and bury her head into his chest.

“I’m okay.” He held her tight.

“You better be.”

-o-o-o-

Alan let a breath out, finally letting himself relax. He didn’t want to admit it, but for a bit there, he had been scared. He knew Virgil was the artistic type, the only one amongst the six of them, he knew that sometimes made him react just that more to a situation, sometimes weirdly, but the emotion in that music, the pain on his brother’s face…he hadn’t known that was possible, much less that Virgil had been carrying it around with him.

As John walked over to his dark-haired brother and placed a hand on his shoulder, Alan saw Virgil finally, truly smile.

Alan found himself grinning with relief. And he wasn’t the only one – there were a whole range of goofy faces around the room now.

Except for Gordon.

His water brother was still standing outside the circle of the lounge, his expression worried.

Stepping around the sofa, Alan climbed up the steps, reaching out. “Hey, you did good.”

“I did?” He was still staring at the huddle of family. “But will he ever forgive me?”

Alan stood beside him. “He’s forgiven you for a whole lot worse. Remember the tarantulas?”

“Which ones?”

“Exactly.”

Gordon looked at him and a smile finally broke through. Alan grinned back.

In the circle of the lounge, Virgil had broken away from his sister and was now bear-hugging their hapless engineer. Brains almost looked frightened. Alan’s grin widened. “Do you think he needs rescuing?”

“Nah. He can handle it. Serves him right for coming up with that idea anyway.”

They stood there for a moment, side by side. “You know we’ll have to keep an eye on him.” Gordon’s voice was quiet.

“No more than he does on us, bro.”

Half a laugh and Gordon wrapped an arm around his shoulder and squeezed.

Yes, it was a Good Day.

A damn good one.

-o-o-o-

[bradshawed]

four favourites with letterboxd (tag game)

rules, pretty self explanatory but your 4 favourite films (can be ordered or not, up to you)

drew’s four favourites with letterboxd (in no particular order)

1. national treasure

2. kill bill vol 1 & 2

3. the holiday

4. top gun: maverick

(bonus: tangled & indiana jones & the crystal skull)

no pressure tags, @waklman @bcyhoods @bruisedboys @thyme-in-a-bubble @sematarygirls @ledgerboxd @sacharinee & anyone else who’s like to join x

[rosicheeks]

😤

[gumnut-logic]

Waking up was a fifty-fifty situation. Fifty percent of the time it sucked and this rise and shine definitely fell onto that side of the scale.

He was cramped. All of him was cramped. What the hell? A groan and he attempted to unfold his body.

“Oooh, Virg, don’t break yourself.”

Gordon.

What?

He pushed his eyes open and was immediately blinded by sunlight on white walls. Ugh. There was a reason why he had blackout curtains in his room on the Island. A blink and a scrunched-up face and, augh, pain shot up his neck and bounced around his brain. What the hell was he doing sleeping in a chair?

“That’s right. Hold that position.” Something electronic beeped. “Woo, that’s a good one. Definitely saving that for the archives.”

What?

His brain was its usual slow self upon waking. It took several solid attempts to recall where he was and how he had gotten there.

Scott.

His shirt on fire.

Hot chocolate.

His room.

A shower.

Sleep.

Tracy Two.

The hospital.

Gordon asleep.

Waiting.

And now.

The conclusion was obvious. He had fallen asleep, too.

In the chair.

Ow.

“You gonna hold that face much longer, bro? I’m expecting a wind change at any moment.”

“Shut up, Gordon.” Now that came out raspier than an un-greased chainsaw.

“Ho, and hello to you, too, dear brother.”

He forced his eyes open, blinking at the light in the room. Gordon had a grin on his face brighter than the sun. His tablet was also in his hand.

Virgil eyed him. “What are you doing?”

“Enjoying some entertainment. Why?”

“What entertainment?”

“Did you know that that scar between your eyebrows has a following?”

“A what?”

Gordon’s grin was ready to split his face in half. “Oh, you were asleep just long enough for me to set up a social media account for Thunderscar Two the Triumphant. He already has over five thousand followers and has only been live for, oh, fifteen minutes.”

“What?”

Moving hurt like hell and Virgil groaned, but Gordon obliged by turning his tablet around to show a series of photos titled The Many Moods of Thunderscar Two. The photos consisted of various shots of Virgil’s eyebrows. There was even a short video of those eyebrows bouncing up and down...it was the most recent and the number of likes was still going up.

“Ooh, we just hit six thousand. Wow, I never knew you were that popular, Virg.” A laugh. “Hah, Vegetina wants to kiss your scar all better.” Gordon cackled. Maniacally. Like a villain from a B-grade movie.

“Gordon, what the hell?”

“Do that again.”

“What?”

That same electronic beep. “Niiice. They’ll love this one.” Gordon busied himself with his tablet. “Two does Dopey. Sleep is the enemy.” His brother was prodding his tablet. “Posted. Aaaah, they definitely love you, Virg.”

Virgil resisted the urge to rip the tablet from his brother’s hands. Exasperation or anger or not, the playing field was not level. He bit his lip instead. “You are not in a position to escape, Gordon. Are you sure you want to challenge me?”

“Challenge you? I should kick your ass.” And all the humour disappeared.

“What?” He appeared to be saying that a lot.

The tablet was dropped to the bed covers. “What have you been playing at, Virgil? I haven’t seen hide or hair of you since I’ve been here.”

Oh.

“Sorry. Busy.”

“Doesn’t cut it, Virg.” Gordon picked up the tablet again. Another electronic beep and his brother stabbed at the glass. “Scott’s the busiest of us all. Yet he’s been here nearly every day.”

The thought of the flight time his brother must be clocking up hurt somewhere deep in his gut.

“Sorry.”

“Virg, I don’t want you to say you’re sorry. I want to know what is wrong. This isn’t you.” He stabbed at the tablet again. “This, however, is bonafide Thunderscar. Look at that frown.” The tablet came up and yet another photo was gaining likes by the moment. Followers were clocking eight thousand and rising.

He ignored it. Couldn’t really do anything else. “Gordon, I don’t know. I am sorry.” He was still tired. “Just wanted to fix your ‘bird.”

“At the exclusion of everything else?”

Virgil shrugged. He hardly understood it himself. “Just wanted to help you.”

Gordon reached out with his good hand and grabbed at his fingers. Surprised, Virgil let him have them.

“You know you’ve thrown us all for a loop. You’re the steadfast one, Virg. The one everyone else leans on. You disappear and Scott falls on his face...and if you’ve seen his face lately it appears he’s been dragging it around on the ground. Now, John. Do you realise I had to yell at him the other day? That has always been your job, bro, but you haven’t been playing.” A bit lip and Virgil was confronted by a pair of unusually earnest russet brown eyes. “I’m going to be fine, Virg. I’ll be home soon, out of the reach of the local vampires, and I’ll need you to be you. Virgil the Rock, my big bro. Four can wait. I’m not going to need her for a while.”

And there it was, the heart of the matter. Something must have shown on his face, because Gordon yanked him closer to the bed. Virgil didn’t miss the wince that bounced across his brother’s face at the movement. Shit.

“Careful, Gords.” His hand landed on top of his brother’s, sandwiching it between his two.

“There you are.” It was quiet, whispered, and Gordon was still staring up at him. “That’s my big bro. The big softie who will be playing me the piano when I get home whether I like it or not.”

“You like it.” Virgil frowned at him.

Gordon smiled. “Yes, I do.”

-o-o-o-

His brother demanded he stay to keep him company and Virgil found himself holed up with a maniac with a camera and an obsession with his eyebrows. But they talked. Shared. Gordon fell asleep eventually and Virgil was left alone with the tablet, watching the followers count pass the one million mark. Twenty-five photos of his eyebrows, that scar in every single one.

He should be annoyed. He should be yelling. But instead he sat there listening to his brother’s soft breathing and stared at pictures of his own forehead.

Something had lifted.

His heart felt lighter.

He didn’t know what or why, but the how was sleeping beside him wrapped in bandages.

Gordon was a goofball. A loveable goofball. Seeing him hurt...

Virgil closed his eyes.

The door opened quietly and Scott peered into the room.

Placing the tablet on the bedside table, Virgil quietly walked over to his brother, nudging him gently back out and following him through. He closed the door silently behind him.

“Virg? You okay?”

Virgil didn’t answer him, not really sure what to say. Instead he grabbed his brother in a hug and buried his face on his shoulder.

Scott grunted as Virgil hit him with a little more enthusiasm than he had planned, but immediately wrapped his arms around him. “Hey.”

Virgil just held him tighter.

“He’s going to be okay.”

“I know.” Muffled.

“We’re going to be okay.”

“I know.”

Scott apparently ran out of words because for the next minute or so, neither of them said anything. Virgil just clung to his brother.

The foot traffic around them was ignored.

Eventually Virgil pulled away. He found he couldn’t look Scott in the eye. It wasn’t embarrassment, but it was.

“Virg?” Blue eyes seeking. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t know where to put his hands.

Pressure on his shoulder, he looked up and was caught by that blue. “You hungry?”

And suddenly he was. A single nod. “What about Gordon?”

“Grandma and Alan will be here in a moment. Kayo and Penny will be by later. He’ll have company. We can come back later.” The hand on his shoulder slipped around to a one-armed hug. “C’mon, let’s get some nutrition into that stubborn ass of yours before Grandma gets hold of you. One look and you’re locked up with home remedies for a week.”

He couldn’t help, but smile a little, and, with a prod, fell into step with his big brother.

-o-o-o-

“You know, if I had known they would be this popular, I would have started this site years ago. We could be millionaires.”

Virgil didn’t even bother to look up at his little brother. Head first in Four’s thruster assembly, he stuck out a hand. “We’re billionaires, Gords. Hand me that wrench, please.”

“This one?”

“I can’t see what you’re holding up.”

A chunk of metal landed in his hand. It felt about right. Folding his arm proved it to be right. Jamming it around the stubborn bolt, he gave it a shove.

“I know we are, Virg. Can’t really miss it. But this would be for something special.”

“You’re talking about a series of photos of my eyebrows.”

“They are very popular eyebrows. That scar has been nominated for president.”

“Considering most politicians, my scar would probably be just as effective.” An electronic beep. “If you start putting pictures of my butt online, the Gordon Tracy Hall of Embarrassment will go live immediately.”

“Hah, what have you got on me that could possibly outrank anything I have on you.”

Virgil didn’t say a thing. He simply straightened, yanked his phone out of his back pocket, searched a moment and, with a smirk, held it up for Gordon to see.

It was most satisfactory to see his brother’s eyes widen in shock. “You wouldn’t.”

“One picture of my butt and the world discovers this.”

“Okay, okay, I get the message.” An electronic beep. “And Thunderscar is triumphant!”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “All monetary gain goes to charity.”

“Already set up. You are rehabilitating the Supreme Barrier Reef as we speak.”

He stared at his tablet absorbed brother. Perched in his hoverchair, the man was still pale, still wrapped in plaster and bandages. Virgil would have to see him back to his room shortly as his stamina just wasn’t there yet, but he had to admit, to have him home and safe and...here...

“Good to have you here, Gords.”

Gordon looked up at him and grinned. “Great to be here in the presence of Thunderscar the Magnificent.”

Another eyeroll. “I thought he was ‘The Triumphant’.”

“Only when I let him.”

“Oh, really.”

“Yes, really.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re always welcome.”

“Well, hand me that screwdriver so I can finish this off and send her for coating tomorrow.”

Gordon grabbed the tool and handed it to him. “Painting?”

“Yep, which pink would you prefer?”

“Virgil.”

“Yes?”

A pause. “Love you, bro.”

Virgil blinked and turned back to find his brother eyeing him.

A small smile. “Love you, too.” A shrug. “But she’s still gonna be pink.”

The sound of Gordon’s laughter meant more to him than he could express.

-o-o-o-

[psalmsofpsychosis]

'

[levil0vesyou]

Love seeing a blog with the type of selfie as an icon that immediately makes me go "oh, you're either a bot or you've been here since at least 2012"

[fish-wifey]

where is that post with "ay yes I have pleased the Friend" because that's exactly how I feel rn 🥰

[kasianie]

I know it’s way too late for a Halloween post but since it’s #tbt of an oldie I may as well post it now ;) This strip is my personal favorite btw 🎃

✨ reblog, don’t repost ✨

[clancysjumpsuit]

like or reblog this post if you wouldn’t boo oldies station

[fine-nephrit]

🥏 Where to find good XF fanfics

👽 On Tumblr

@lilydalexf has an encyclopedic knowledge of fics and continues to be an invaluable resource. You'll find a boatload of themed fic lists, individual rec posts and helpful answers to anon asks.

@txf-fic-chicks-blog seven years of almost daily recs, with well-written blurbs and a lot of fun, run by @kateyes224 and @piecesofscully. Look out for their themed days: "Casefile Monday", "Tumblr Tuesday", "Editor's Pick Wednesday", "Post-Ep/Missing Scene Thursday", "Novel Length Friday", "Smut Sunday", and the very cool "Because You Watched"

@msrlibrary a well-tagged library of MSR fics; each entry includes a short excerpt and a nicely chosen image from the show.

@201daysofxfiles a rewatch blog by fandom veteran @wendelah. Each episode in season 1-7 is paired with its own fic rec post.

@enigmaticxbee an aesthetically pleasing and neatly organized rewatch blog that is packed with great content, including excellent fic rec lists categorized by season, story type, trope, and more. Each episode guide sometimes features related fic recs.

@thatfragilecapricorn30 posts one fic rec every Friday, accompanied by a nice writeup.

@randomfoggytiger curates many fic rec lists sorted by often fun and creative categories.

@cecilysass has a google doc titled "fics I love", which is a fantastic fic list categorized by story type, complete with thoughtful blurbs. She's also shared two episode-related fic rec lists on Tumblr: here and here.

@pookie-mulder writes a monthly fic journal with good recs.

**self-promo plug** I post fic recs on my Tumblr blog @fine-nephrit under #nephrit's fic rec. Plus, I reblog others' fic recs that I come across!

👽 Rec Communities

XF Book Club: the best thing ever, an absolute gem that deserves to be preserved for posterity. During its run, 270 fics were recced and discussed in depth here. The community's intelligent and insightful comments on this blog are sometimes even more enjoyable to read than the fics themselves.

The Fic Filter (xf tag): well-curated selections with short blurbs.

Multifandom Het Recs (xf tag): a major rec site's xf section that offers nice "why this must be read" writeups. @het-reccers

Crack Van (xf tag): another major rec site with a big xf section, featuring endless recs and blurbs

Fancake (xf tag): another major rec community's xf section boasting an extensive thematic tagging system

👽 Personal Blogs

Emily Shore aka Naraht: meta essays, fanvid recs, fic recs—great stuff aplenty

Bad for the Fish aka Scarlet Baldy: fantastic fic list paired with highly enjoyable reviews and analyses of the fics she's read. @badforthefish

Ramblings of a Mind Untamed: reviews of a dozen or so classic fics

xxSKSxx XF Fanfic Recs: still active in 2024! @xxsksxxx

X-Libris: more of a fic library, this is the best place to download nicely-formatted ebooks of pre-AO3 oldies. What I love most is the incredibly detailed and extensive tagging system.

👽 Individual Rec Lists with good writeup

Character Manifesto - Dana Scully: a character analysis and 10 Scully-centric fic recs, categorized by "best of .." selections. Amazing format and choices!

Character Manifesto - Fox Mulder: same format as above for Spooky

bachlava's awesome fic rec essays, covering classic fics and slash fics

ShipRecced blog's classic MSR fics and newer MSR fics recs

luminary's 16-fic rec post

RivkaT recs fics and writers @rivkat

Anna Otto's favorite stories

Syntax6's rec list on her site, great rec list on Tumblr and FTF rec list @syntax6

👽 90s Old School Rec Sites

The Basement Office - Musea: a treasure trove of extensive fic lists with lovely written blurbs, recced by a group of talented writers from back in the day

The Other Side - Fanfic Recs from Beyond the Grave: a large collection of 'scary' or 'spooky' story recs with nice blurbs. Beautiful web design.

the Rookery - Favorite Authors: nice commentary on a list of classic fic writers

X-Files Fanfiction 101: an intro guide to fic categories and what to read for each

The Primal Screamers: a fun site run by a mailing list that hosts fic recs with blurbs, and a 'Coffee Talk' section full of delightful discussions of canon

Idealists Haven - Elemental Fanfic Archive: an archive with rec blurbs

Chronicle X: a large, well-organized archive with blurbs, plus a 'Can We Talk' discussion section of novel-length fics, plus a total of 46 author interviews. Simply incredible!

👽 Special Mention

The X-Files Lost and Found: a fic finder message board that is miraculously still very active today—How wonderful! Its FAQ page hosts a huge collection of well-categorized themed fic lists (not recs), including "Classics (or, Your Fanfic Education is Not Complete Until You've Read ...)".

Where do you find your next read? What did I miss? Reblog and share your favorites!

[bigtreefest]

Warm Embrace

Pairing: Ari Levinson x Reader

Summary: During a rough week, Ari wants to make sure he’s there for you

Word count: 1,249

Content/warnings: crying, non-descriptive mentions of stress, angst, comfort, kissing

A/N: For my sweet, sweet Mel @steviebbboi I hope everything is okay and this can help just a little bit with everything. I love you!!

Comments, reblogs, and asks are especially appreciated!

Dividers by @kodaswrld

Main Masterlist

Your eyes burned, straining to see your computer screen so late in the night, but you couldn’t afford to cut your hours short. You were doing important work and actively helping people who really needed it. Who cares what your own life looked like? You’d figure it out. You had tomorrow off anyway, you could just push through until then.

Besides, that would help you forget about everything else going wrong right now. Everything that was so messed up and stressful and out of your control. It was fine. You were fine.

Except Ari saw through it. He saw through the faltering smile you’d given him at breakfast yesterday. He saw through the mumbles you gave him of “I packed spaghetti leftovers for your lunch tomorrow” when you insisted on aggressively doing the dishes the night before. And he saw through you claiming your third cup of coffee this evening was because you “weren’t getting good sleep probably.” Because it wasn’t just bad sleep. It was more than that and it pulled on his heartstrings to watch you trudge through this week.

It wasn’t at all dissimilar to how you’d trudged your way through the apartment to bed after you finally shut your laptop and turned off the dim lamp on your small desk in the corner of the living room. You didn’t even have the energy or drive to brush your teeth before flopping into bed as gently as you could to prevent rousing Ari. He tended to go into work pretty early in the morning, tomorrow included. He’d seemingly slept like a log the last few nights went you’d laid down next to him, but a stretch and low groan in response to you pulling the covers over your shoulder made your heart drop.

Ari turned over in the bed, taking in your form that was turned away from him, curled up as tight as he’d ever seen. Just over the rustling of the comforter, he heard you speak in a small voice, “I’m so sorry, Ari. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He had to fight the temptation to coo at just how torn up you were right now. He knew you were just so strained, and the wrong thing could make it worse, but he was more than happy to offer gentle comfort.

He shifted closer to you, his body wrapping around your own, arms warm and tight, beard next to your cheek where he pressed a gentle kiss.

“I was already up, Sugarplum. Don’t worry about it.”

He moved farther down to kiss along your shoulder as he whispered against your skin again, voice slightly rough with sleep. “You’re amazing, you know that, right? I love you so much. You make me happy by being yourself, and you’re so, so strong.”

You couldn’t help the way tears welled in your eyes, simply sniffling before grabbing one of Ari’s hands and pulling it up to your mouth for a peck. “Thank you. I needed that.”

And for the first time in a week, you felt your body relax into a peaceful slumber.

You woke up to the sun shining on your face through the crack in the curtains. You were used to waking up with cold sheets next to you, but when you stretched out under the covers, rolling over to shove your nose into Ari’s pillow, it was still lukewarm.

You turned your head in suspicion, and that’s when you caught a whiff of sweetness from the kitchen. It was mixed with the bitterness of brewed coffee, which didn’t make sense. Ari should have been gone hours ago, yet you could faintly hear oldies drifting toward the bedroom along with the delicious scent of breakfast.

As you sat up in bed, you noticed an old beaten up sweatshirt sitting on your nightstand. Your favorite of Ari’s. You slipped it on, along with a pair of socks to combat the cold floors and shuffled towards the bedroom door. When you opened it, music blasted through, along with sunlight bouncing off the white walls, although that could’ve been the brightness of Ari’s beaming smile as he watched you emerge.

You rubbed your bleary eyes, trying to help them adjust as you joined him in the kitchen, your croaky voice breaking through.

“Ari, what’s going on?”

He placed a kiss to your forehead before turning his attention back to the skillet on the stove and flipping the pancake that sat there cooking.

From the stack that already sat on a plate on the counter, you could see they were your favorite, filled with chocolate chips and seemingly all the fruits from the fridge. Or as Ari liked to call them…

“Pancakes supreme! Just for you, Sugarplum. Go on, take a seat.”

Your mind was too tired to react to his chipper mood consciously, but beyond your control, a smile began to tug at the corner of your lip as he slid the plate in front of you where you’d taken a spot on one of the kitchen stools. They were still warm, stacked up with pads of the good butter melting in between, a fork and knife tucked in beneath the bottom of the pile. It was perfect, Ari was perfect, and before you could help it, the floodgates opened.

Tears poured down your cheeks and your chest began heaving, shoulders jerking in a sob. And in a flash, Ari was on you, big hands framing your face, thumbs brushing away the salty trails. His eyes were full of concern as he searched for what was wrong.

“Hey, hey, shhhh, it’s okay. Did I do something?”

You took another gasping breath as you shook your head, wrist moving up to wipe your nose before you finally looked at him.

“N-no. A-and yes. Y-you’re supposed to be at work! And you stayed home? For me? F-to do this?”

Your breathing, while still frantic, was starting to calm down when Ari moved his arms to squeeze you tight, your head falling between his firm pecs, arms clinging to his narrow waist. He placed a long, lingering kiss to the top of your head, breath steady in a rhythm that you body couldn’t help but want to match as he rumbled in response.

“Of course I did. I felt like you could use a little extra love today.”

You nodded against him as you pulled his body even closer. Ari knew everything going on, and the two of you hadn’t discussed how much it was affecting you, but you were so grateful he was able to sense it and do his best to help you out on the harder days.

“Yeah. Thank you, Ari.”

You peeled your body from his to look up in his eyes, filled with nothing but the deepest affection and care. No judgement at all. How did you get so lucky?

“I love you.”

The grin that graced his face at that gave you a spark of warmth inside that you hadn’t felt in days, finally getting the peace that helped you let go of everything difficult in life, even if just for a minute.

“I love you more, Sugarplum.”

As you shook your head in amused disbelief, Ari leaned down to place a tender, reverent kiss on your lips. When you wouldn’t let him leave so easily, though, he laughed and smiled, nose still nudging yours playfully.

“You better eat these pancakes before they get cold. Then we can continue wherever this is going.”

Bonus A/N: hope you don’t mind I gave your pancakes a name, Mel.

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @mercurial-chuckles @steviebbboi @thiquefunlover63

[tears-that-heal]

Awww, happy & comforting colors. ☺️

sweet dreams concoction