#salix actually said this

[sleeping-at-sea]

I was on call with one of my best friends and I was reading the dialogue.

While I was doing that I was being silly and giving Kel a high pitched voice, and so then when Mari spoke I decided to be the complete opposite and speak for her in a really deep voice(BCS IT WAS SO SILLY) and had said "What if Mari had a very deep voice" AS A A JOKE but thrm

IDEAS CAME!!

I offer to you lot,

Transfem Mari.

[morteisshipping]

So, about Blue Willow Leaves...

I was rereading S-class webtoon/manhwa again, since I finished the translated novel and is currently waiting for updates again. Of course, as expected, I cried when 25 yo Yoohyun died.

After knowing things that you do in the novel, his perspective and what he went through as he was reshaped and molded by Yoojin, I grew a lot of sympathies with him, even knowing that he is not entirely human - maybe because he is NOT entirely human. He has been enduring and holding himself back since after his birth because he loves being loved by his hyung.

"No living creatures shuns being loved."

And so, Yoohyun molded himself as per Yoojin's love. A fire molding himself into a polite, sweet child, because that's what his brother wants him to become - to grow up to be. Even though he knows he can find relief and ecstasy by fulfilling his fiery nature, Yoohyun holds himself back, because he values the love his brother gives more than that brief sense of relief.

Understandably, people in the comment are upset with Yoohyun's choices, as I was, but Yoohyun was a child, barely an adult, when he decided to go no contact with his hyung, who is his entire world that he tries to protect.

For Yoohyun, he is okay if his hyung hates him, rather than seeing him dead. I've seen much of this tropes with parent characters as well; many of them will risk their children hating them, even going as far as cutting their connection, as long as they're safe. This is what Yoohyun did because he deemed the threat of the dungeon and the Transcendants are too great for his F-class brother.

Now knowing that Yoohyun is actually a creature more akin to fire than human, it got me thinking; all of his attributes and his skills are connected to fire somehow, except this one skill:

Blue Willow Leaves

This skill allows him to acquire flight-like skill by stepping on them on air. This is a skill that he acquired not long after his awakening, I think. The longest, I think before the three years he's gone no contact with Yoojin, because he did use this power after regression against the Golden-Beaked Maiya - just not proficient enough to know how it's used. Noting that, I think Yoohyun got the skill maybe recently because he had no idea how to use it and only used it to blind his enemies. Or maybe he got that for a while but never actually uses it in combat so he never actually explore over what to use them for.

Either way... If Yoohyun is a creature of fire, then why does he have the Blue Willow Leaves skill?

It is said that skills a person awakened to is actually just an essence of who that person is, just enhancing it and making it their identity and power. Now, we know that Yoohyun is literally the personification of Fire. But then, why Blue Willow Leaves? Why not Blue Fire like the one Azula wields? Or Blue Spark? Or Blue Jet Fire that he can use to fly around like a jetpack? Or something of that note - as long as it's fire.

Why leaves of all things? The thing that the fire eats for breakfast?

In fact, Willows are the opposite of fire attribute. Willows are of the Salix genus. The name Salix, that is used for different kinds of Willow species, may originates from Celtic language where Sal means "near" and lis means "water". It's also referring to the tree's natural habitat. (https://simplybeyondherbs.com/willow-tree-symbolism/)

So because of that contradiction, I asked Google about the meaning of symbolism for Willow Leaves, and my jaw dropped:

It's a symbol of mourning and sorrow.

Yoohyun has been grieving. We do not know what he is grieving about but I'm pretty sure it's about his hyung. Because during that time apart, he was no longer part of his hyung's family. He thought that his hyung hates him and will no longer loved him.

But he still thinks, "it's fine, as long as my brother is alive and safe."

Yoohyun has been grieving. His grief is so profound that it is now embedded into his being, shaped by the guilt and sorrow towards his hyung and is now represented by a skill, which is the Blue Willow Leaves.

It's also important to note that we first see Yoohyun wields this skill the first time (in manhwa/webtoon) as he was saving his brother from Lauchitas dungeon. Of course by then he was already proficient but I have no doubt that meaning is clearly implied by the webtoon authors Seri and Biwan.

Do you know what else I found about Willow symbolisms?

It is often engraved on tombstones.

Is it possible that Willow Leaves actually foreshadowing his death all this time?

But that's just my theory. A MANHWA THEORY!

Just for the record, I do not condone what Yoohyun did to Yoojin as something right. He just did what he thought he was best. It was not, of course, but he tried his best. True, everything could've been solved if the two of them just TALK. But he did his best, as best as he could, as a non-human person who misses social cues of human society and messed up sometimes. So I cannot in my conscience ignore Yoohyun's effort before the dungeon break and sufferings in pre-regression timeline.

Of course I cannot say nor compare his sufferings to Yoojin. I just want all of the readers to remember that Yoohyun also suffered. Maybe not the same way, or the same intensity, but he'd been holding himself back for 25 years for the sake of his brother without gotten any kind of relief or reprieve.

Besides, everyone suffers in this novel. Even Sung Hyunjae suffers on his own for some degree. It's not our place to compare whose suffering is greater.

I already know that there is no way Yoojin can go back to bury his dead 25-year-old brother, but maybe we can have a moment of silence for the 25-year-old Han Yoohyun who willingly sacrificed himself so that his world - his only world that comprised only one person - Han Yoojin, stays safe.

As an ending note, please enjoy this picture of these two doomed brothers.

[asgardian--angels]

Hi there, pollinator ecologist here! I figured I'd just give my two cents. Firstly, thank you for noticing the underappreciated pollinators! We need to get better PR for flies and wasps especially. Butterflies are not particularly effective pollinators, so I can't comment on the state of research on them, but bees are very well-studied* primarily because they have demonstrated importance to agriculture - specifically honeybees and bumblebees, and a handful of solitary bees. The vast bulk of research focuses on those few species, with 'wild bee' research only taking off in the past 10-15 years. At least within the scientific community though, other pollinators are just as well-loved!

*they're actually not nearly as well-studied as people might think. The vast majority of bee species, even here in the US, if you google them you will get practically nothing. As a scientist who is constantly scouring for identification material, I can't even find photographs of many of our native bees.

Hover flies (Syrphidae) are super charismatic and I wish more people noticed them. Some of them eat aphids as larvae - not all of them - but yes, they are biocontrol on farms (if they're not sprayed) and they do contribute a fair amount to crop pollination as adults. A good proportion of others live in wetlands eating decaying plant matter or in the rot holes of trees eating sap, rotting wood, detritus, etc. Some even live in ant colonies. There are fewer specific actions regular people can do to promote hover flies apart from not destroying wetlands or dead trees on their properties, and not spraying pesticides.

You raise an excellent point about many popular pollinator plants not supporting a lot of other insects! Things like mountain mint aren't very common in the wild where they occur, thus they have fewer caterpillar relationships. Many 'native' pollinator plants are not actually native to the area they're planted (e.g., purple coneflower in the northeastern US), which also means they will be eaten by very few insects. While these plants are fine to have, ideally people should be planting keystone species, which are the native plants in a given region that support the greatest diversity of species, primarily caterpillars - which go on to be the sole or nearly sole food source for almost all songbird chicks.

I can't possibly list them all here, nor could I be geographically inclusive to everyone seeing this post. But there are a LOT of keystone plants that overlap with being excellent plants for bees (particularly specialist bees), syrphids, wasps, etc - to name a few in North America, willows (Salix), blueberries (Vaccinium), asters (Symphyotrichum, Eurybia), and goldenrods (Solidago). Other very important ones include cherries (Prunus), dogwoods (Cornus), red maples (Acer rubrum), and viburnums (Viburnum). We have a lot of resources out there to help people find the keystone plants for their region. Most of this foundational research has been done by Dr. Doug Tallamy and his team. The best sources are his book Bringing Nature Home and his team's academic papers, but there's also a growing directory on his website too. There are others compiling this information, like National Wildlife Federation, Audubon, etc.

If you want to maximize the insect production of your yard space, fill it with keystone plants, which includes a lot of trees and shrubs. This being said, I recommend exercising caution with simply using leaf holes to quantify insect usage; a number of creatures create similar holes, like slugs, and a lot of leaf damage comes from invasive Japanese beetles. With some experience it is possible to tell apart leaf feeding patterns between groups of insects. Additionally many caterpillars and other insect larvae leave very little trace they are there because they are quite small, and may be leaf-rollers, leaf miners, gall-makers, etc that do not feed in an obvious way. We do have published research and many good books that have detailed recommendations by experts for what plants will help pollinators of all kinds the most. If you like wasps, please check out Heather Holm's website and books. For syrphids, there's a great guide for the northeastern US with pretty much everything we know about each species. And if you want to support birds specifically, here's yet another book.

Hope this helps!

I am being driven to madness by the fact that bees and butterflies aren't better studied than other pollinators because they are more important to the ecosystem, they are just better studied because...people like them more?

Seriously

My plants are attracting HUGE amounts of flies, ants, wasps, and moths, and when I identify them and look them up there is no information! Especially flies, wow. They're so diverse, there's SO many different kinds. I'm getting a ton of bee-mimic flies and hover flies.

Wikipedia says hover fly larvae eat aphids while the adults are pollinators. That means they are beneficial in two ways at once! But most of the Wikipedia pages for species are only one sentence, if they exist at all. Likewise here's the wiki page for the most common bee mimic fly where I am. It's one sentence!

If you only pay attention to butterflies and bees, and plant the plants that are the best for butterflies and bees, you would maybe neglect keystone plants that support the largest amount of other insects. And these insects are like, a massive proportion of the bugs in a healthy ecosystem. And birds and mammals need bugs for food! A lot of birds are mostly insectivorous, and anyways, an unbalanced diet of all bird seed can't be healthy even for the omnivorous birds. They need to eat a variety of foods!

Not to mention that larvae are necessary for feeding baby birds!

The back yard is overflowing with birds. There are red-bellied woodpeckers, a gray catbird, a barn swallow, tree swallows, wrens, sparrows, house finches, goldfinches, bluebirds, bluejays, grackles, orioles, cardinals, doves, and a bunch of others I'm forgetting about, and they are constantly singing and making a commotion, and it's louder now than the ugly man-made sounds that are always barging in through the quiet.

[splish--splash--avertedeyes]

Salix! Thoughts on collars?

jk I know that answer lol

what are your favorite rarepairs and rarekinks?

what is your favorite kink(besides collars) to write?

what is your favorite ship(besides [mum]scarian) to write?

- 🦜 anon

collars <3

"favorite rarepair" you're saying this to someone who is very much a scarian main. i'm gonna be honest i don't read much else. but uhhhh. idk does cletho count? clethubs? i should really read more than just scarian huh...

and favorite rarekink....hmmm. do i want to admit this. fuck it. on my knees begging for more cervix penetration PLEASE. there is only one scarian fic with it i need MORE. and more unrealistic sex. is it possible? no. do i care? also no.

favorite kink to write...hmmm. i almost said collars then looked at it again and was like. oh yeah. can't say that. damn. what IS my favorite...i haven't exactly written much. just. well. 7 fics. ok nvm that is a fair bit actually what the fuck. ok let's see what have i written...

edging is fun to write. i haven't written it too much yet BUT there will be some breeding kink in some future fics, that's certainly fun. also honestly just writing them being really soft...they are in love. best kink that isnt-really-a-kink-but-whatever

favorite ship to write. ok again you're saying this to a scarian main. i haven't written any other ships lmao. i haven't even written mumscarian yet...I am hoping to write other ships so. idk, ranchers maybe. or gempearl. or clethubs. all of which will be canon in the tiny apartment au. have i mentioned that? i can't even remember

[promiseiwillwrite]

Whatever Comes Up July

This is really long. But if you are Called Rowan, you might want to read it anyway. Also if you dig Persephone or Hades. Or maybe you've actually been reading my whatever comes up posts.

Otherwise, you probably have better things to do with your time, so:

So I did Contact witchery.

It's not often that I reach out to specific deities, but when I do, I really try to do my homework.

I did some tarots, and I asked what entities were reaching out to me for this month, and I got some very specific imagery that suggested it was Persephone and Hades. I've been interested in their story, and its various permutations through various ages. I talked to some people that are into Hellenic deities. I did some research on my own about offerings (so I got some Lamb... because I don't really have access to Rams, and Pomegranates are Not in Season)

And then I did some imagining. I had often thought of my mental illness like the Lernaean Hydra, and looking Into the Story of the Hydra, I found that it's lake was an entrance to the underworld. That seemed legit for a way to go talk to the Rulers of said place. But When I researched where this was, I found out that the lake was dried up by climate change. I imagined going there anyway, and spoke to the Hydra. It told me that Persephone was more likely to be in her Grove than in the underworld this time of year, so I started trying to figure out where that would be.

I researched that, and found that it was only accessible by Water in the myths, and also that it would be with poplar trees and sterile willow trees (botanical obsession lasting more than 4 hours ensued, during which I learned a great deal about Salix spp. in Greece, and hybridization outcomes for Salix in general).

Based on all this, I was able to narrow it down to what I thought was a relatively specific set of islands off the northwest coast.

So I made an offering of Peach mead and Lamb meat. I cut it up small, because I knew beasts and birbs would take it away. I placed the offering on a tray between the Grave of My Cat, and the Cherry Tree I have that is dedicated to Sigyn. (a place between life and death). I asked, with tears in my eyes, for help understanding Balance in my life. Because I think I am actually ready to understand it.

I made an offering of water to the Rowan tree in my back yard, because a friend of mine had a question.

And then I went and I got in a bath as hot as I could stand. Because that's how I do sometimes when I am going to a metaphysical place. The Bath was way too hot and I got overheated and was extremely nauseous. Physically it was a real bad time.

But the confluence of action and intention got me where I wanted to go.

I crawled up out of the water and slumped into the mud of the bank. I was completely shrouded by hanging willow branches, and willows of a different kind that stood straight up in shrubby clumps. and the white floating poplar seeds were hanging in the air. I got the profound sense that I had indeed found an entryway to the grove of Persephone, and that it was just beyond the curtain of willow boughs.

I started to crawl forward. But my Armor was Heavy. It was like I was wearing fully inundated Samurai armor... So all the Silk and Wood components were Completely saturated... and the armor weighed like 200 pounds as a result. I could barely move, and was struggling to get out of it. Black Water was pouring out of it, and I started to get a little frantic, because I couldn't get to the latch under the right pauldron and I was sliding in the mud backward toward the water, like it was trying to suck me back down. Black water was coming out of my mouth, and weeping out of my skin. I felt like I was drowning on land, from the inside.

And when I finally managed to free my shoulder, I still had difficulty, and I ended up about half in - half out of the armor, sliding out through the neck/shoulder like a snake trying to shed it's skin, and clutching at the ankles of someone wearing a Black Toga. But I could breathe again. Someone had come to help me. I dimly knew this was Lord Hades, and was vaguely embarrassed by my presentation of self in that moment.

From my perspective in the moment, there was time compression. It seemed like a lot of things happened at the same time, or too fast for me to really tease them out in the linear manner I normally use to process reality. It did not help that I was panicked and felt trapped and like I might die.

I think Hades was talking to me in a gently encouraging manner, but also not in English. I could not parse what he was saying.

But then I became aware that there were others. At least three or four entities, and I heard something that made sense, "She Can't go in there with the Weapons or the Wards."

And my mind latched onto that.

It hadn't occurred to me up until that moment that I'd not spent Even A Single Second of my Adult Life without a Fundamental Ward upon my person.

I put it into place when I was 14 and I and was quite proud of my self perpetuating selectively permeable membrane ward, built like a Cell Wall and powered by the natural replacement process of my body's own cells.

But I had Never Ended this Spell. Not for any reason.

And I had never thought to question that.

I had never been able to imagine Not Needing it.

So I reached forward and made a cutting motion with my hand vertically in front of my face, and the pressure eased immediately. The water stopped pouring out of me. I watched the slow motion of the blue-green energy of the membrane peel back like the edges of a popped soap bubble.

I instantly felt better. And I thought about Franklin Richards, and the dampers he had to place on his own mind to prevent himself as a child from existing in the full berth of consequence of his own power to alter reality. (Poor Franklin, his power was to have all the powers. If he could imagine it, reality would just line up to conform to his idea of things, sometimes quite to the contrary of his intentions and limited coping skills as a little kid.)

Suddenly, slender hands grabbed my wrists, and I looked into the face of a Rowan Dryad. Her Black Eyes had Irises of bright orange, like the berries, and her chocolate brown skin was perfect. She wore a crown of leaves in her hair, and a skirt of Rowan Boughs.

"Tell her she is one of us." was all she said, and she helped me stand.

She let go as I found my footing, and melted back into the underbrush.

I looked briefly at the faces of Dryads around me, Reminded myself not to try to look directly at Greek Gods because reasons, and I Ran at top speed through the curtain of willow leaves and into the grove.

Persephone was there.

It was filled with trees, and tall grasses, dry from a lack of rain. Thunder clouds boiled at the edge of night in the distance.

Lightning bugs danced on the tops of the grass.

I wondered if there were lightning bugs in Greece.

Persephone, who had dark curls, and a white toga told me that I had brought my own summer to the grove. My memories of full summer had colored what I saw of it.

But I got a deep intuitive sense that it was not a bad thing... And that even if there weren't Lightning Bugs in Greece, that she was pleased by my vision of summer.

And that was it.

The whole imagining came unraveled. I think I got Reverse Birthed or something. The Ward Is Down.

And since then, I have thought of balance. I have thought of balance in a personal paradigm that contains space for nuance and grey, squidgy areas where there aren't concrete answers, and ambiguity wiggles around. I had always valued dynamic opposition, and thought of opposites and polarities as the fluctuant sources of energy... and perhaps that is still an aspect of the equation... But energy can only move in the between space.

I have thought deeply about what it means to value something. I have pondered about what my values are, and whether or not I have Shitty Values that don't serve me. I have thought about Why I do What I do, and whether or not I live in accord with those values.

And I think this is what I seek to balance in myself. And not according to society's standards of who I should be and how I should act, but according to Standards I will have to Build from my own values once I get my head around how that is supposed to work. From a place where things can be both bad and good at the same time, and I can still choose them even when they maybe aren't all the way good or perfect.

{{ EXAMPLE: I value cleanliness. I adopted this value culturally from my Grandmother and my Mother, and the idea that the cleanliness of my house created conditions of safety and informed my Worth to others were transmitted to me with this value. I can still decide that I want to keep this value, even if I decouple the idea that not being able to clean house makes me bad or useless, just because I can like cleaning and things being clean, even if my worth as a person is not involved. }}

Work in progress. No further contact with either Deity has been attempted. Not sure where to go or what to do from here, but feeling pretty patient about it.

Squinting a LOT at how much I have been eating lately, and have definitely been having judgements about it. This seems REALLY out of balance.

[boombox-fuckboy]

Hello! Love your blog! I find so many great podcasts from it. Hope it’s not rude of me to ask (don’t feel like you have to answer if you don’t want to) but would you have an comedy podcast recommendations? Preferably longer ones? I listen to podcasts at work most of the day and go through so many so quickly. Thank you in advance! And again, great blog, you’re one of my favorites!

This is such a sweet message, thank you ever so much! It's not rude at all, I'm always open to giving recs, as it is both as a way to shout out underappreciated productions and to ramble about my interests. Comedy is not my strong point but I do have a few!

Longer:

Arden

Fictional "true crime" podcast hosted by an investigative journalist and a detective, but each case/season is based on Shakespere plays. Very funny, two seasons of 12 and 8 episodes of roughly an hour each, with some bonus episodes. Well written and professionally made, also queer which is always a bonus.

Dispatches from the Multiverse

I've actually not finished this one but it is a long-running improv comedy about a guy who accidentally makes an interdimentional portal device and always meets some version of his room-mate Wilson on the other side. Creative and wacky, also some episodes include their kids and it's super cute to listen to these dads let their kids take the lead and just play pretend with them. 166 episodes of about 30 mins each.

Less is Morgue

A Ghost and a Ghoul host a podcast about literally whatever they feel like out of the ghoul's mother's basement. This one gets a little gorey at times but it is fun. 31 episodes of ~30 mins each

Life with Althaar

Sci-fi comedy with 28 LONG (like, 1-3 hours, usually about 1½-2 hours long) episodes and airing it's final season, so, loads of content. A human handyman rents out a cheap room on a station with an alien room-mate. Said room-mate is polite, considerate, all round charming and kind, but a species which causes humans deep panic at the mere sight of them. Really well made, full cast, original music features, great worldbuilding, a hidden gem for sure.

The Amelia Project

Interviews from an organisation which helps people fake their own deaths. Absolutely wacky, it starts out wild and only gets more so. Great voicework, clean and professional sound, never a dull moment. The episodes aren't too long but there are a fair number of them. 41 episodes of about 30 mins each plus a bunch of minisodes.

We Fix Space Junk

Sci-fi comedy about an intergalactic repairwoman, tired AI, and her fugitive assistant as they travel at the behest of the company they are in debt to, completing various strange tasks and odd jobs. Surprised in hindsight how long it took me to listen to this one, I'm a big fan. 3 seasons of 8 20-30 min episodes each, plus loads of minisodes.

Wooden Overcoats

Two siblings run the only funeral home on a small island in the English channel. Not very well, but that's okay if you're the only one. So, what happens when competition moves in? Energetic, classic british comedy vibe, really well made. 3 seasons of 8 episodes each, ~30 mins each plus hour-long finales, and loads of minisodes.

Shorter:

Alba Salix, Royal Physician/The Axe and Crown

High Fantasy Comedy! I'm admittedly not the biggest Alba Salix fan but I do love Axe and Crown, which is in the Alba Salix feed. Alba Salix is about the royal physician, and her assistants, a fairy trying her best, and an unruly young human monk. Axe and Crown is about a troll who runs a tavern and his overenthusiastic new landlord. Alba Salix has 12 episodes of 30-40 mins each, Axe and Crown has 18 episodes of 10-20 mins. There are a bunch of bonus minisodes.

Burst

Tales of the staff running a bubble tea shop on a space station. The audio is a little rough but it's fun, light-hearted, and feel-good. 20 episodes of ~10 mins each

Elaine's Cooking for the Soul

Post-apocalyptic dystopian cooking show hosted by a dentist from her office. Really fun, and the recipes are all stuff that's easy to make at home with long-lasting, cheap ingredients. Wacky concept but I do adore this podcast. 13 episodes of 15-20 mins each.

Forgive Me!

A young priest takes over confessional in a small town (or village maybe) after the village priest has a heart attack. The villagers have some very strange things to confess to. Didn't think catholic comedy would be my thing but it's very fun and silly and despite the format and setting doesn't feel too religious. The audio is clean and uncomplicated, the writing and acting are very charming. 6 episodes of ~20 mins each.

Haunted House Flippers

A couple inherits an apparently haunted house and decides to fix it up. This one's interesting because it feels a bit het-couple Adam Sandler movie at first but becomes an increasingly more charming story about a bi buff metalhead forensic scientist and her tiny well-meaning idiot ghosthunter husband who are both weird and very supportive of eachother. 17 episodes between 5 and 40 mins in length but normally about 25.

InkWyrm

Slow burn lesbian romance and a sci-fi comedy. Lots of people describe it as The Devil Wears Prada but gay and in space, about an AI specialist who also becomes the assistant to an intergalactic fashion magazine. The audio is not the best (they're highschool students so I am unbothered) but some of the funniest writing I've encountered. Not that short tbh. 27 episodes of ~15-20 mins each.

Murray Mysteries

Modern, very queer and remarkably faithful comedy retelling of Dracula. Very well made and written and it does such a fun job of all the characters and translating them to a modern setting. 22 episodes of 5-10 mins each.

The Vanishing Act

Set around the 1930s following a German playwright's obsession with the final trick of a 200-year-dead french magician. Self-described "globetrotting farce", 10 episodes of about an hour each.

Wizard Seeking Wizard

Short show long episodes. Wizards send in their bios and what sort of relationship they are looking for, and the audience votes to see who goes on a wizard date the next episode. It's great fun, very original and creative. 8 episodes of ~40 mins each

Hope you find something here you enjoy!

[sleeping-at-sea]

Even if life is only once that doesn't make it unjustified, it gives life such a greater meaning. Only living once can be scary, but at the same time it means ANYTHING you do is impactful. Even if you life once, or a trillion times.

Even the tiniest thing you do is impactful for others, even if you don't see it as that. I'll always remember you, Sal. Even if we stop being friends. Honestly, I've dealt with mental health issues for YEARS, but meeting you and Mae? It's helped a great ton. Y'all have impacted me then I think you'll ever understand, or know.

You're a wonderful person, by just being you. I truly honor you so much, all my IRLs know about you.

I've said it on past posts, but I'd honestly speak with you then any IRL. It literally happened today!! You're so amazing and fun to be around, and you're not an awful person, Sal. It takes a lot to be a truly HORRIBLE person, and you're not one of them.

Also who knows?? Destiney, Fate.. Honestly they were just a social construct. Just like love. Being aroace is so lonely, but then you have to sometimes remember it's a social construct. The "idea of love" is just platonic love, but in a deeper sense I feel like. And like you said yourself, you can have a stronger platonic relationship than a romantic relationship. That's completely true! You're not missing out on love, you just have a different kind of love. Which there's nothing wrong with, everyone is different.

Honestly, those are questions you might never get an answer to. You just have to live and feel, find what makes you happy, what makes you sad, what makes you love. Emotions are different for everyone, and that's honestly such a beautiful and wonderful thing. Because no one can ever bee the same, no matter how much they try. So there's nothing wrong with the way you are, you're just YOU.

Managing to do things for yourself is a struggle, but I believe you!! I'll always believe in you, Salix. It's hard to start being able to do stuff for yourself, and it's going to take a while till you're actually better. But that doesn't make it impossible, it's just going to be slow. But you got it!! I'm always going to be here for you, and I'm always going to support you!

Yadda Yadda I'm being emo™️

Do we live one or multiple lives? People say life big because we only live once but then turn around and delve into trends about past lives and things of that sort.

If you only live one life, does it make your life worth more or less than if you lived multiple?

If you live multiple than you can impact humanity multiple times but if you live once than you can only impact is once.

But is the impact really such a big thing? I don't remember, billions of people won't remember. But we were still there and we are still here.

My favorite color is purple.

What of fate? Is there such a thing? The notion that everything is pre-written?

I don't like that concept.

If it was pre-written then why does the butterfly effect exist in theory?

Do people use the notion of fate to do better or to sit and wait? It's stupid to put your trust in fate if you won't do anything yourself.

Destiny

Is it the same as fate? What are the similarties and differences?

Is it our destiny to live multiple times? Is it our fate to live one life? Why did we meet? What was so important about us that the cosmos destined us to interact?

Maybe it didn't.. maybe it was coincidince? Mahbe nothint is prediterimed and everything is made by our hands.

I don't really have a favorite food, but I like Pizza, rice, and chocolate.

The meaning of life is the meaning you give it. The meanging of life is doing what you enjoy while trying to better the place. The meaning of life is

What does romantic love feel like? I am aromantic s I don't know. People in media everywhere call ittjis magical feeling but what's so magical about it?

What's the difference between platonic and romantic love? I know it's not intensity because people everywhere have stronger platonic than romantic bonds.

What does unconditional love feel like? What does grief feel like? What does dying feel like? What does being alive feel like?

What does hatred feel like? What does love feel like? What does sadness feel like? What does happiness feel like? What does anger feel like? What does

The idea of there being nothing after death scares me. I hope it's reincarnation but...

I don't feel like a good person, but I'm also only seventeen..

I give fictional characters more grace than myself with their feelings of being a hypocrite

Hatsune Miku is so pretty and amazing. An instrument that can do or be anything or anyone.

Growing up scares me... I'm already a senior in highschool. Why? It feels fake because I barely remember my other three years.

If fate truly exists then I hate it, but I don't believe it does.

I lied earlier, purple isn't my favorite color. I don't have one.

I don't know what it feels like to have a favorite

In my next life, I want to still be best friends with my best friend. I want to still be friends with all my friends.

Tomorrow, I want to havethe motivation to pick uo a pencil and wash my face.

I should probably drink the orange juice on my desk.

[nightblood999]

Unique Podcasts:

If you’re looking for something different, try one of these:

 What’s the Frequency

               What’s The Frequency is a psychedelic noir audio drama podcast set in 1940s Los Angeles. Recently radio broadcasts in the city have been reduced to static, leaving a popular radio serial as the only remaining show on the air. Even then the show finds itself continuously interrupted by a mysterious broadcast. A lone distorted voice reaching out for help. Follow Walter “Troubles” Mix and his partner Whitney as they search for a missing writer and navigate through a city quickly falling into madness. Could the mysterious voice be the culprit? Will anyone be able to stop the madness from spreading? And… What’s The Frequency?

Why I love it: This podcast has some of the best and most loveable main characters ever written.

 Alba Salix, Royal Physician

           A witch, her apprentice, and her fairy herbalist treat the ills of a fairy-tale kingdom.

Why I love it: A fantasy podcast that not D&D or based on D&D? What? Also, Its absolutely hilarious once you get over Magnus’s voice.

 Windfall

           Ever since the castle first appeared in the sky above the city of Windfall, its residents have been building upward. Now the city consists of towers where the wealthiest residents live at the top while the poor eke out a living on the ground. Our podcast follows Cas, Shaima, and Argus, three brothers who live with their Uncle Vern after being orphaned during the grounder rebellion twenty years earlier. When Cas’s best friend, Kendall, is offered a position with the Wolfpac, Windfall’s military cult that acts as the city’s police, Cas is forced to decide where his loyalties lie. Meanwhile, something sinister looms over the city itself, threatening the lives of all who live in Windfall, from the wealthiest residents to the ground-level poor.

Why I love it: This is so well written, and so well voiced, and the sound design is amazing, and I don’t understand why it doesn’t have a cult following to be honest.

Time: Bombs

           Created, written, recorded, produced, and released in just one week, Time Bombs is a new audio drama podcast about the hilarious world of bomb disposal. From the team behind the Webby Award nominated sci-fi audio drama Wolf 359, ride along with EOD technician Simon Teller on the busiest night of the year for him and his team - when business is, quite literally, booming.

Why I love it: Its literally the same team that made my favorite podcast ever of course I love it.

 StarTripper!!

           Feston Pyxis, native of the bureaucracy planet Lorvin, has left it all behind! He’s said his goodbyes, he’s sold all his B-movie memorabilia, and he’s bought a Physiclast QCS-25 K-series ship, known to the wise as a “StarTripper.” Together with the onboard assistant PROXY, Feston’s looking for any and every good time there is to be had across the stars!

Why I love it: Its actually happy. There are so many sad podcasts with angst and inetemse emotion and this was something I could just…. Enjoy? With no hurt? Yes!

 Zero Hours:

         Zero Hours is an anthology series, where every story is a different take on the end of the world - or at least something that feels like the end of the world. Each episode is organized around a kind of apocalypse, whether the cataclysm is planetary or personal. The stories are also set in succeeding centuries, with 99-year intervals separating each episode. The show begins in the past, catches up to the present, and eventually overtakes it.

          Some installments are darkly comedic, others grimly contemplative, and others still thrillingly contentious. But they all explore the same question: how do we keep going when the world is crashing down around us? Again and again, issues of survival, trust, and personhood will plague our characters as they attempt to navigate dangerous, changing circumstances and figure out how to avert The End, or at least how to meet it.

Why I love it: This was also made by the team behind Wolf 359, and its such a unique concept.

 Fairy Tales for Unwanted Children

             Imagine if fairy tales were written like episodes of the Twilight Zone. Now imagine listening to them while happy music plays in the background.

Why I love it: I love the Twilight Zone, and nothing really filled that gap after I watched every episode ever produced. But Fairy Tales for unwanted children fills my need for more Grimm’s fairy tales and more twilight zone at the same time!

 Janus Descending

          Janus Descending is a limited series, science fiction/horror audio drama told through single perspective narration. The story follows the arrival of two xenoarcheologists, Peter and Chel,  on a small world orbiting a binary star. But what starts off as an expedition to survey the planet and the remains of a lost alien civilization, turns into a monstrous game of cat and mouse, as the two scientists are left to face the creatures that killed the planet in the first place. Told from alternating perspectives, Janus Descending is an experience of crossing timelines, as Peter describes the nightmare from end to beginning, and Chel, from beginning to the end.

Why I love it: Watching it all come together as Peter slowly works his way backwards through the story, and Chel forwards, was fascinating.

 The Antique Shop

           In desperate need of a job, Maya finds work in an old antique shop owned by a mysterious woman. The more time she spends in the shop the further the real world becomes, and Maya soon begins to realize that nothing is as it seems. 

Why I love it: This is the Genre that just Hits The Spot. It’s like Howls moving castle (Book version) but podcast form and slightly darker. Why is there not a bigger following for this podcast? It deserves a bigger following!

[magical-grrrl-mavis]

Got bored. Playing with an incorrect quotes generator

Luz, after getting a library card: Now I know what true power feels like.

--------

Sasha: Don’t stay up all night, Marcy. Last time you got this sleep-deprived, you tried to eat your own shirt.

--------

Marcy: Be careful about succumbing to these sorts of destructive... urges. Addiction can be a powerful thing. 

Sasha: So am I. Bow down before your new supreme overlord, bitches.

--------

Amelia: I love murder mysteries!

Lucia, trying to impress them: I've been a suspect in four murder cases.

--------

B!Luz: What are you drinking? B!Amity: Vodka. B!Luz: Straight? B!Amity: No, gay. Why?

--------

Lucia: I'm going to ask you to be respectful. Amelia: I will politely decline.

--------

Marcy: Mint is just cold spicy. The Squad: ... Sasha: What the actual fuck is wrong with you.

--------

Amelia to Lucia: We smell of sweat and loss.

--------

Anne: Did you win? Or just not die? Anne: Either way, hooray. Marcy: ...Is "no" a valid answer? Anne: The hooray is redacted and you frighten me.

--------

Emira: That was a joke. Say ha. Amity: Ha. Emira: Now do it again. Amity: Ha. Edric: Congratulations, you are officially the life of the party.

--------

B!Luz: *in a jail cell* What about my Miranda rights!? You’re supposed to say I have ‘the right to remain silent’”! NOBODY SAID I HAD THE RIGHT TO REMAIN SILENT! B!Amity: *in the cell next to them* You have the right to remain silent, what you lack is the capacity.

--------

B!Amity: What the fuck? People actually tell their crushes they like them?? B!Willow: What the hell do you do? B!Amity: I die? What kinda question...

--------

Salix: I’m afraid of clowns. There, I said it. Amelia: Salix, if you don't like clowns, why are you hanging with Lucia?

--------

Odalia: Did you take out Lucia as I requested? Amelia: Lucia has been taken out, yes. Odalia: You have my grat- Amelia: It was a great restaurant. Amelia: We had a romantic candlelit dinner. Amelia: Lucia proposed afterwards- we’re filing the wedding papers.

--------

Luz: Question. When they shot Bambi's mother, did you find that a sad moment...at all? Amelia: I'm sure she's mounted on a nice wall in a fine home somewhere.

--------

Ruby: Do you know a turtles only weakness? Weiss: No... well, their slowness. Ruby: Their weaknesss is they can't roll over when they are on their backs. Ruby: Now I have a plan. Ruby: If I duct tape two turtles together, they'll be unstoppable.

--------

Yang: What’s the straightest thing you’ve ever done? Blake: *sighs* Blake: I killed a man.

-------

King: Honestly, I am so evil. So full of darkness. I feed of the souls of the living I strike fear into- Amity: You sleep with a teddybear. King: He’s my sECOND IN COMMAND IN MY ARMY OF DARKNESS!

--------

Catra, texting: Answer your phone Adora, texting back: Wait a minute, I can’t find my phone Catra: Understood Catra, 5 minutes later: You’re a terrible person. You know you’re killing me. You’re killing me, Adora.

--------

*Adora rushes by with an armful of water bottles* Catra: What's going on? Adora: Glimmer wouldn't drink water. Catra: ...And? Adora: And I asked them how fast they could chug an entire bottle. Glimmer, loudly: 16 OUNCES IN TEN SECONDS, B****ES!

--------

Catra: Hey, do you know the pa**word to Glimmer’s computer? Adora: F*** you, Catra. Catra: Hey!! Adora: No, you misunderstood, the pa**word is "f***youCatra". Catra: Oh, no numbers? Not very safe.

-------

Damien: It’s impossible to make a sentence without using the letter a. Tim: Despite your thinking, it is quite possible, yet difficult, to form one without the specific letter. Here’s one more to further disprove your theory. Jason: Fuck you.

--------

Tim: Coca Cola can remove rust from metal, imagine what it’s doing to your body. Conner: Pfff, getting rid of the rust, idiot. Tim: THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS! Cassie: Hmm... I've been drinking soda and my body's rust free... not sure where you're getting your facts from...

--------

Marcy: Look, I know you think my judgement's clouded because I like Anne a little bit. Sasha, holding Marcy’s notepad: You doodled our wedding invitation. Marcy: No, that's our joint tombstone. Sasha: My mistake.

--------

Catra: Go fuck yourself. Glimmer, smugly: Sure, but only if you watch

-------

Ruby: That was so hot, Weiss. Weiss: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenterate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets. Ruby: I'm so in love with you.

-------

Todoroki: Hey random, what are your favorite flowers? Izuko: Peonies, why? Todoroki: Izuko: Were you going to get me flowers? Todoroki: Izuko: Todoroki: ᶦᵗ’ˢ ᵃ ᵖᵒˢˢᶦᵇᶦˡᶦᵗ��

--------

Weiss: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake. Ruby: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear. Weiss: ... Weiss: You mean ring bearER, right? Ruby: ... Weiss: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding.

[gumnut-logic]

Census

After my little hissy fit last night about not being able to write, I spent all day today doing exactly that. 5000 words later and we have this rambling fic. I had to fill in our Census today, so I figured the Tracys could too. It went places I did not expect.

There are a couple of anachronisms in this fic. It is based in 2060 for census reasons, but I mention at least two characters interacting with the Tracys from later seasons. Please ignore and enjoy anyway :D

There are also a couple of vague references to ship, but no real ship, I promise.

Thank you in particular to @katblu42​ and @willow-salix​  and the other members of Thunderfam who kindly checked on on me last night while I was bemoaning my inability to write. Sorry if I was exasperating. I have a degree in that. If it helps, no one gets more annoyed with me than I do ::hugs you lots::

Rambly, mostly brotherly conversations and doesn’t really go anywhere, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

-o-o-o-

How Gordon got there first was no mystery. Virgil was just too damned tired after three rescues in a row and Scott had been tied up with Tracy Industries for most of the day. Grandma could possibly have been on it if she hadn’t been filling in for John who had broken out his exo-suit to yank a couple of free floaters out of the sky.

He was still muttering about idiots and safety. His mood was not improved by the fact Grandma insisted he come down for the night so he could be counted.

Consequently, his muttering also included cursing bureaucracy even though Virgil knew census night was a favourite of the astronaut.

Perhaps Gordon got to the form first because he knew everyone else was tired and grumpy and needed a kick in the pants. Virgil had to admit with a fond thought that his little brother was prone to throwing joke bombs amongst them when the mood was through the floor.

Virgil had no issues wondering why Alan wasn’t the one poking at the form. Their resident teenager wasn’t interested at all.

“Okay, guys. What is our address? What did we put last time?”

Alan didn’t even look up from his game. “Tracy Island.”

Gordon, who was sitting at Dad’s desk, staring at the holographic form, hesitated. “Did Dad register that with the powers that be?”

“What?” Alan really wasn’t paying any attention at all.

Virgil sighed. He was sitting on the couch with one of his uniform boots on his lap attempting to pick out several penetrating objects out of the sole. His last rescue had been a collapsed factory and he was still trying to work out what exactly it was that they made that could penetrate his specialist footwear.

Fortunately, despite multiple incursions, he only had a scratch on his left foot, more an annoyance than anything, but these objects were frustrating and suspicious.

“Dad did all the right things. Tracy Island is the official name now.” The pliers weren’t quite gripping the piece of metal properly. The grip slipped and Virgil swore.

“Now? What was it called before?”

“Deserter’s Rock.” Scott strode in from the kitchen, a coffee in hand, and grimace on his face. His usually perfect hair was scruffy, as if he had been running his hands through it.

Virgil frowned up at him. “You okay?”

His brother took the steps down into the lounge and sighed. “Nothing a holiday won’t fix.” It was Scott’s turn to frown. “What’s with the boot?”

“Deserter’s Rock? Really?”

It was John who answered, very much like Alan, staring into his tablet and barely paying attention. “Really. Three sailors were stuck here for months. Only one survived. That’s why there is a cairn on Tracy Peak.”

“I thought that was a pile of rocks put there by Dad.” Gordon seemed genuinely surprised. “You mean there are two dead guys on the Island?”

“Along with their ghosts, yeah.” John still didn’t look up.

“Ghosts?” Alan did look up at that, eyes wide. “What ghosts?”

“The one’s who keep stealing my Bailey’s ice cream.”

“Oh.” Alan went back to playing his game, his eyes definitely not darting between John and Gordon at all.

“Okay, moving on…so where do I put ‘Tracy Island’ in this thing? It’s not a suburb, state or territory…do we have a postcode?”

“It’s a locality. Shove it in there.” Virgil grit his teeth and yanked hard at the piece of metal embedded in his boot. A grunt and a flex of heavy lifting muscles and…it didn’t move at all. What the hell?

“Okay, whatever.” Gordon half sung ‘Tracy Island, Kermadec Ridge, South Pacific Ocean’ to himself as he entered it into the form. At least he was being specific. Virgil glared at his boot.

“Next. Who gets to be head of household? Oh, the Householder?” A pause in which Virgil poked at his boot, Scott sipped his coffee with closed eyes, Alan killed three zombies with a grin and John sat motionless still staring at his tablet.

“Okay, then. It’s me.” Gordon grinned to himself.

Nobody looked up, but all four other brothers said simultaneously and in chorus. “It’s Grandma.”

Virgil flexed his hand and picked up his pliers again. Peripherally, he watched Gordon’s shoulders drop. Even the Fish couldn’t argue with that.

“Fine. It’s Grandma.” He reached up and touched the box to open that section of the form. “Where is she anyway?”

Virgil tried to get a better grip on another chunk of metal in his boot. “Yoga. Don’t disturb her.” Yoga was Grandma’s mindfulness time and after today, it was well overdue. “Leave her be.”

“I wasn’t going to. Sheesh. So, name. Sally Tracy.” He typed in her name. “Person two?”

“Scott Tracy.” Okay, so Virgil had a bit of a thing about this. His brother deserved acknowledgement for everything he had done.

Gordon glared at him. “And so I guess the rest of us are in age order?”

Virgil flipped his boot over. “Whatever floats your boat, fishboy.” A glance in Scott’s direction and he had to wonder if his brother had fallen asleep, he was that still. The coffee mug in his hand was the only proof of consciousness.

Virgil fought the urge to save it. “Scott, you wanna go to bed?”

“Wha-?” His brother sat up. “I’m fine.” Fortunately, he put the coffee mug down. The chances of Virgil having to treat burns tonight dropped significantly.

“How do you spell ‘Hackenbacker’?”

Virgil did not grace that with an answer as it was obviously a stupid question.

John was apparently on auto as he spouted off the required letters anyway while still staring at his tablet.

Gordon poked at the form in silence for a little while and Virgil wondered what on Earth he was entering. He trusted his brother. This was an official document, after all, but he was still Gordon.

“Okay, guys, I need your information.”

Beside Virgil, Scott ‘woke up’. “What, no questions about Grandma?”

Gordon frowned at his eldest brother. “I’ll have you know that I know our grandmother very well. We have a special kind of relationship.”

Alan snorted.

“What? You got something to say, sprout?” The fish glared at Alan enough to torch him on the spot.

“I’m just saying that after that time with Grandma’s diver’s license, you should know Grandma’s details very well. Her birthdate, her ancestry, her suit measurements…”

A starfish plushie suddenly had a very short career as a ninja star and bounced off Alan’s head. “Shut up, Alan.”

Their little brother only giggled more.

John, still staring at his tablet, raised an eyebrow. “Allie, Grandma baked some cookies yesterday. I think there are still some in the cupboard. Would you like some?”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Alan threw the plushie at his fish brother, missing completely, and went back to playing his game. There was muttering about Gordon making jokes but Alan not being allowed to.

Virgil sighed to himself.

“Scotty, what’s your age? It’s 2060 for reference. Oh, and your gender.”

All signs of sleep fell away and Scott sat up. “Gordon…” It was all warning.

“Hey, I’m just giving you the opportunity to offer an alternative. After all, tonight you look at least fifty-six.”

“I’m thirty-one and you know it.”

Gordon poked at the form. “Thirty-one years young. Got it.”

Scott grunted at him.

“Virg, are we telling the truth this time?”

“Depends on whether you want me to leave you in the ocean next time.” Why the hell couldn’t he get this out of his boot?

“To threat level already, you are grumpy tonight.”

“Gordon…” Virgil echoed Scott from earlier to the note.

“Johnny?”

“No one named ‘Johnny’ lives here.”

Gordon signed. “John Glenn Tracy, how would you like me to record your age?”

“Accurately.”

“Fine.”

“If I say I’m thirty-two, do I get to go higher up on the form?” Alan looked hopeful.

“If you like.” Gordon moved things around on the display.

Virgil gave up. The locality of Tracy Island was destined to be a statistical anomaly anyway. At least it would be an interesting one.

Besides, John would probably hack it later and fix it. The fact he had hardly protested so far was eminent proof of that security factor.

“Scotty, are you the husband or wife of Grandma?”

Scott rubbed his face and didn’t bother to answer, picking up his coffee again and burying his face in it.

Virgil just wished he would go to bed. The man was a zombie.

Gordon took the hint and was quiet for a little while. Virgil went back to tugging on his boot. Maybe he should take this down to his workshop.

The thought of actually working more had his shoulders slumping enough to alert Scott. The concerned and questioning look shot in his direction had Virgil sitting up a little straighter to fend it off.

“John, where should we put your usual place of residence?”

“Here.”

“But you live in space.”

“So do you.”

“Pedantic much?”

“As necessary. Tracy Island is home. Thunderbird Five is merely in our astronomical backyard, not to mention secret.”

Virgil looked up at that. It was a simple statement, but it was good to hear that John still considered Tracy Island home despite his multiple protests over the years.

“Fine. Secret space station wasn’t an option anyway. I could flub it and use Global One but then that would spark all those rumours about you and that captain all over again.”

“Gordon, I can hack your bank accounts.”

“Go for it.”

“I can also hack your fish tanks.”

The aquanaut shot to his feet. “You touch my tanks and you’re dead, spacehead.”

John didn’t react other than to smile just a little.

Their space brother could be a right royal ass when he wanted to be. Virgil sighed. “John, you know the rules.”

He shrugged. “Didn’t break any.”

“You touch my tanks, I’m spicing up your atmosphere on Five. I’m not kidding. I have fart gas resources even you can’t find.” Gordon was still on his feet and actually appeared angry.

John shuddered. “TMI, Gordo. Not interested in your gas capacity, honestly.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Calm down, Gords, John’s not doing anything to your fish tanks. He knows the rules, don’t you, John.” He arched a prompting eyebrow at his brother.

“Never said I didn’t.”

Definitely an ass.

“Gordon, calm down. You can put John’s relationship to you in as ‘nemesis’ if it makes you feel better.”

“I can only put in our relationship to Grandma. I wrote favourite grandson in yours.”

It was Virgil’s turn to shrug. “I’m not going to complain. Sit down and finish the form.”

His brother didn’t answer, but he did sit down, albeit still glaring at John.

John had gone back to his tablet, doing who knew the hell what.

Definitely an ass.

Virgil turned back to Gordon. “What’s the next question, Gords?”

The glare switched to Virgil for a second before turning to the form. “Where were we born?”

“Kansas.”

“I know that. What about Grandma, Brains and Kayo?”

“Space.” Alan said it with triumph.

“What?”

“Where John lives. Isn’t that what the question was?” Alan stared between his brothers.

“Go back to sleep, Alan.”

“Grandma was born in Kansas, Brains was born in India, and Kayo was born here.” Scott proved he was still awake by suddenly providing information enough to make Virgil jump.

Gordon poked at the form, but nothing further was said on that front. Everyone knew Kayo was sensitive about her past, and while she wasn’t in the room, she would find out and partially kill anyone responsible.

“Kayo is here tonight, isn’t she?”

Virgil yanked on his boot again, slipped and managed to elbow Scott in the ribs. His brother grunted.

“Oh, shit, sorry. You okay?” He shoved the boot aside and the pliers along with it.

Scott eyed him and rubbed his side. “That answers your question, Gordon. Kayo is on a conference call with Captain Rigby.”

Virgil glared at Scott.

Gordon eyed the both of them. “Is there something you two aren’t telling the class?”

“Shut up, Gordon.” Virgil glared at Scott a moment longer, enough to have his brother’s expression fall into one of concern. Grabbing his boot again, Virgil went back to wrestling with embedded metal. Damned specialised rubber was amazing when it protected him but when its tolerances were overrun, it was a pain to fix. Maybe he should ask Max to give it a yank. “What entertaining religion are you using this time, Gords?” Any attempt to get the conversation off this topic.

Gordon stared at him a moment, obviously still trying to work out what the hell happened there.

Scott was dead later; Virgil was going to make sure of it. Tired or not, he had crossed a line.

A sideways look in his eldest brother’s direction and it was obvious Scott realised that. Okay, maybe he could let it go. It had been a long day and they were all tired.

Probably should go to bed.

He went back to fighting with his boot.

Gordon was still staring but even the fish knew when to shut up apparently, because the next words out of his mouth were entirely religious.

“I’m worshiping Neptune this year.”

Alan frowned. “I thought you said that last time.”

“Dad wouldn’t let me.”

That brought the whole room to a standstill. Last census was ten years ago. Flashback to that time brought everything that had changed into the bright glaring light. The biggest change being Dad’s absence. But even more, ten years ago they were still based in Kansas, IR was in development, but not yet a reality. Alan was only six, Gords eleven and with his body still intact…it was a completely different time. Virgil was still in college and had to fill in his own census form in Denver.

Gordon broke the looming silence with a determined smile. “This time the government gets the truth. Scott bows to the sky gods, Virg worships molemen, Johnny is a god, and Alan is Satan.

“Hey!” It was said by multiple brothers at once.

Only John remained calm. He even had a smile. “In that case, I want bagels every Sunday.”

“You get bagels every Sunday. Virg sends them up all the time.” Alan glared at his space brother – Alan did not like bagels.

John grinned wider. “I’ll take that as proof that I have at least one faithful worshipper.”

“Next time you can get your own bagels.” Virgil glared at his brother.

Gordon snorted. “Yeah, right, you old softie. John could blow up Two and you’d still send him his bagels.”

Virgil found himself glaring at Gordon again. It seemed to be a theme tonight. “Short pier, long walk, Gordon, go for it.”

He got a smirk for that. “Don’t mind if I do. A little night diving is quite spectacular around here.”

Virgil ignored him and went back to his boot…which he had made zero progress on for all the time he had been sitting here, damnit.

“Does Virgil ever ‘need someone to help with or be with him for self-care, body movement, or communication activities’?” Gordon typed into the form. “Before coffee.”

Virgil ignored him some more as Alan took the bait and snickered. “Better watch it, Gords. Won’t be long before ‘before coffee’ time kicks in. Look at him, he’s already brewing.”

The piece of metal in his boot finally shifted a little. Thank goodness.

“Long term health conditions.” Gordon slumped in his seat. “Well, isn’t this cheerful.”

“Just fill it in, Gordon.” Scott’s words were little more than a sigh.

That left a gaping silence. Gordon tapped a lot at the keyboard filling in far too much. More for himself, obviously, but then there was John and his space issues, and they all had been diagnosed with something on the list hanging above their father’s desk.

Except Alan, who could not be left out. Virgil pretended to not be able to read the word ‘zombification’ next to his little brother’s name.

“Schooling? Oh man, John, you can write all the letters after your name. I can never remember them all.”

“Not a problem.” The astronaut poked at his tablet and the hologram in front of Gordon sprouted half the alphabet.

“Really? Did you get a new one?” He stared at John. “When did you get time for that?”

John shrugged. “Made time.”

“What’s this one for?”

“Oceanography.”

“What?”

“You were in the ocean. I didn’t know enough to help. So I fixed the problem.”

Gordon just stared.

Virgil, of course, knew. He had been the one to field John’s version of panic the day he didn’t know enough to help Gordon. John was practical. He saw a problem, he fixed it. Oceanography wasn’t an obvious topic for the starman, but he was a genius and that genius could be applied where he wished it to be.

If Virgil had found himself helping John at a few points that intersected with his specialities along the way, he was just going to take a little comfort from being able to return the favour after years of borrowing his brother’s brains for other topics.

And besides, it had meant he had been able to spend a little extra time with John. Always a good thing.

Despite him being the occasional ass.

Gordon was still staring. “Is that why you bugged me to take you out in Four?”

John shrugged. “Partly. Didn’t mind spending a bit of time with you either. Good experience to familiarise myself with Four as well.”

The stare continued.

“Be careful you don’t catch any flies with your mouth open.”

The stare became a glare. “We’re talking about this. You and me.”

“Sure.”

Gordon looked like he didn’t know whether to yell at him or run over and hug his brother. Virgil was voting for the latter.

But everything was interrupted by a sudden snore and snort.

Virgil turned to Scott and found his brother startled awake, likely by his own snore.

“Wha-?”

“Scott, you need to go to bed.”

“I’m fine.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Do I need to pick you up and carry you?”

“I’m fine.” He waved Virgil away, sat up straighter and attempted to guzzle whatever was left of his probably cold coffee.

“Idiot.”

“What?”

“Go to bed.”

“No. We need to finish the census.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because I want to.”

“Why?”

“Can you stop that?”

“Can you go to bed?”

“No!”

“You need sleep.”

“I can manage my own health, thank you, Doctor Virgil.” He folded his arms across his chest. “I am an adult.”

“Sometimes.”

“Virgil!”

Gordon let off a loud snort. “That’s it. I’m putting you two in as married.”

“Gordon!” Both of them, in chorus. It was apparently a theme tonight.

“Well, you both argue like an old married couple, what can I do?”

“You can shut up and move onto the next question.”

Gordon poked his tongue out at Scott, but he didn’t stop grinning and Virgil was forced to hold back a smile himself.

Bratty little fish.

He was still smirking when he said, “Employment.”

“Oh god.” Scott sank back onto the couch and rubbed his face with his hands.

There followed a book’s worth of employment activities.

“Rocket surfing is not an occupation, Gordon.” Virgil sighed.

“Why not? Both Scott and Allie surf rockets.”

“Alan rides a rocket sled and Scott is just trying to give me grey hair.”

“Has he succeeded yet?” Bratty fish.

“None of your business.”

“So is International Rescue paid or unpaid work?” Gordon was frowning at the form.

“Unpaid.”  Scott’s tone was sharp.

“So are we unemployed, employed or self-employed?”

“Self-employed.”

“How much do you earn a year, Scotty?”

Their eldest brother paused as if calculating, but then threw up a hand. “Stuffed if I know.”

John snorted and rattled off a number.

“There isn’t enough space for that many zeros here, John.”

“Give me a moment.”

The display in front of Gordon flickered and each of their names received a variety of numbers…except for Alan.

“Hey, how come I don’t have any earnings?”

“You are a minor.” John spoke calmly, as if speaking to a minor.

“But I do stuff for Tracy Industries, I do.”

“All your income is held in trust, you know that.”

“Then who is paying for all that popcorn I bought this morning?”

Scott sighed. “Don’t worry, you’re not going to bust the bank.”

“We own the bank.”

Scott stared at John. “When did we buy a bank?”

“I bought it for your birthday last year but forgot to give it to you.”

“Oh.”

“I’m writing obscenely rich next to all our names. Oh, except for you, Allie. You’re a pauper.”

“Hey! You suck, Fishbrain.”

“Remember who might need to lend you money in the next couple of years…”

“While Gordon remembers who lent him money in the past, who still helps him with his finances, and who also is the one to fish him out of the ocean after every mission.” Virgil pinned Gordon with his eyes.

Gordon blinked. “You have a point.” A pause as a smile crept over his face. “Who was that again?”

The hologram of the census form wobbled as a lounge cushion flew through it and hit Gordon squarely in the face.

“Right on target. Hmm, I’ve still got it.” Scott blew imaginary smoke off a finger gun.

Unfortunately, Scott may have still had it, but he wasn’t the best marksman on this census form. The cushion rebounded via aquanaut and hit Scott squarely in the face with an oomph.

This forced both Virgil and Alan to come to his defence and for a full ten minutes after that, it was an all-out pillow fight between the brothers. Even John was drawn in as Gordon came up behind him and tried to stuff one down the back of his shirt.

Which wasn’t advisable since his gravity support was still in play. But then John was king of the noogie and immediately grabbed a head full of strawberry blond hair, dragged it down onto the couch beside him and made sure it received the full-on noogie treatment.

Gordon did squawk quite a bit.

An extreme one-on-one joust erupted between Scott and Alan. It was that determined that Virgil had to back out. Alan, being the terrier he was, managed to get Scott on his back on the lounge and sat on him pummelling him with pillows.

Virgil had suspicions that the game was rigged.

In any case, he had to find somewhere else to sit and tinker with his boot.

Eventually, Gordon found his way back to the census form. Scott was still on his back and apparently Alan had decided he preferred that his big brother stay that way by sitting on him and playing his computer game. Scott at least had a remaining cushion under his head, but one foot had taken out a pot plant and the other was hanging over the back of the sofa. His brother really was too tall for lying on the seating arrangements, but he didn’t seem to care.

With a bit of luck he might fall asleep.

“Okay, let’s finish this. How did you get to work today?” Gordon grunted. “This form has no rockets, planes, submarines or space elevators on it.”

“Tick the ‘other’ box and let them work it out.” John let out a yawn.

Virgil eyed him.

John screwed up his face and poked out his tongue.

Wha-“ Virgil blinked.

“Hey, Virg, how many hours did you work last week?”

That distracted him enough to turn to Gordon. “How the hell do I know?”

“You worked them. I bet you know your flight hours.”

“Today’s. Not last week. That was last week.”

“Eos, send Gordon last week’s record?”

The AI chimed in at her father’s request. “Yes, John.”

Another document appeared in front of Gordon. “Wow, that much? Really?”

“The documentation is correct as recorded.” Eos sounded a little miffed. But then she never particularly liked Gordon on the best of days.

His fault, of course.

“Virg, you win, but only by a bit over Scott and that was because he twisted his ankle on Monday.”

“Sprained, you mean.”

“Twisted.” It came from the couch and was strangled by a little brother.

“Sprained. He should have been off for several days, but he’s an idiot.”

“You can’t talk, Mr Bruised-not-cracked.”

“At least I’m not Cracked-not-broken.”

“Sure.”

Scott might have said more but Alan whacked him with a pillow. “You guys are idiots. Gords, John and I are lucky our grey hairs don’t show.” Alan growled. “I’m sixteen, for crying out loud, and I know more about hospitals than I ever wanted to. Look after yourselves, you morons.”

Silence hit the room again.

“Way to go, Allie. You tell ‘em.” Gordon’s words were honest.

Of course, Scott was devastated and immediately questioning all his life choices. Virgil wasn’t far behind, but Scott, in particular had a sensitive spot where Alan was concerned.

“Hey.” He reached out a hand and rested it on their little brother’s arm. “Talk to me, Allie.”

Alan growled again. “I’m fine as long as you two look after yourselves. We kinda need you, you know.”

Scott grabbed his little brother and dragged him down into a hug. “I’m sorry.”

Virgil sat with his boot in his lap needing to grab both his brothers but not wanting to interrupt their moment.

He shouldn’t have worried. A second later Gordon jumped over the back of the couch, landed beside him and grabbed him, dragging him sideways into an oomph of a hug. “Don’t worry, my dear wingman, we still love you even if you are an idiot.”

“Gordon…”

“Admit it, you want a hug.”

“Shut up.”

Gordon didn’t say anything further, but he did squeeze tighter.

“When you get to the questions on whether any of us looked after children, Gordon, tick yes for all of us.” John’s tone was as dry as a desert.

“Will do.” Gordon grinned at him.

Scott actually fell asleep after that. It was about time. Apparently, Alan made a great teddy bear.

Alan grumbled about that for days, but Virgil knew his little brother treasured his relationship with Scott and the fact he fell asleep as well was rather telling.

But that fact pretty much ended the census form filling for that night.

The next morning saw all of them out on an earthquake and it wasn’t until two days later that Gordon realised they hadn’t submitted the form.

Grabbing Scott and Virgil, he ran them through the last of the questions, landing on the definitions of their dwelling.

“How many registered motor vehicles do we have at this dwelling?”

“Er, none? We have no roads.” Virgil frowned at the obvious answer.

“Three rockets, two planes and a submarine don’t count?”

An arched eyebrow. “Does it say anything about planes? Tracy Two and Three are registered in Aotearoa.”

“Aotearoa is not the United States.”

“But they are still registered.”

Scott sighed. “Read the form properly, guys. It says exclude heavy vehicles.”

“Well, that strikes Virg off the list, but your ‘bird’s a pansy.”

That earned Gordon a mocking whack up the back of the head.

“Gords, just write zero. The intent is there.”

“Fine. We have no motor vehicles. Stupid form.” A sigh. “Okay, how many bedrooms do we have?”

Scott answered that one. “Ten.”

“I thought it was twelve.”

“One went to an art studio and the other to a music recording room.”

Gordon glared at Virgil. “Way to take over the house, bro.”

“And how many fish tanks do you have in how many rooms? Not to mention the chunk of vegetable garden we had to sacrifice for Rover’s pond?”

“Leave Rover out of this. That wasn’t his fault.”

Virgil snorted. “Not his.”

“Shut up.”

Scott sighed again. “We have ten bedrooms.” He scanned the rest of the form, which thankfully wasn’t very long. “We own the place outright, and yes, they can archive our information for our grandkids to access. Tick the boxes and get this sent so I can go get some lunch.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Scott growled but Gordon ignored him.

Boxes all ticked, he hit the submit button.

“This form has already been submitted. You may not submit it again.” Underneath was the date of the day before census night. “What the hell? How could we open it if - ” Scott hit his comms. “John!”

John’s hologram flickered up beside the misbehaving census form. “I’m between a hurricane in Bermuda and an avalanche in the Pyrenees. How may I help you?”

“What?!”

“Oh, the census form. Eos submitted that three days ago.” Their space brother was distracted a moment out of pick up range as Scott’s jaw dropped. “Needed to get it done before Gordon got his hands on it. Besides, we can’t guarantee we wouldn’t have been called out anyway, so I got it done beforehand.”

“Then why the hell were we going through the damned thing on census night?”

John blinked. “You had fun, didn’t you? We shared an evening together.”

Virgil joined both his brothers at staring at John.

The astronaut just smirked back at them. “You did a great job, Gordon. Thanks.” The smirk turned into a grin. “Thunderbird Five out.” His hologram disappeared.

Scott’s face curdled. “I’m going to kill him.”

Virgil let his shoulders drop and sighed. “You said that last time he did something like this, and he’s still kicking.”

“I’m soaking his underwear in saltwater.” Gordon had that fire in his eyes that usually preceded a Tracy Island Armageddon.

“Gords…”

“He played me, Virg. He knew what I would do and played me. He thinks I’m predictable!”

“Yeah, but he obviously did it for the right reasons.”

Virgil found himself the target of two glares. “What? You want a group hug or something? C’mere.” And he grabbed the both of them, wrapping his arms around them. “Happy Census Night.”

The grumbling was worth it.

-o-o-o-

[willow-salix]

This is going to be out of the blue and there's no need for a response to it, but I guess I feel like some of you deserve to get a peek behind my armour.

Facebook just gave me a memory from 7 years ago, showing me an album that I'd rather not see quite honestly, but you know when you're just drawn in even though you know it's against your better judgement? Yep, that was me just now.

The album is full of screenshots of the absolute shit ton of crap that I've had on the Internet over the years.

I was in the RP world for ten years, and in that time I was verbally and mentally attacked a lot, I was mentally abused, I was stalked, I was blamed for things I never did, I was used as a scapegoat for things I never did. I was the victim of unwarranted attacks that had my accounts deleted by fb so that I lost YEARS of writing.

I got my heart broken over and over again by people that claimed tk be my friends, people that claimed to love me but that were all too happy to dump me the second a better option came along. People that I sat up all night with, that I lost sleep over, that I went out of my way to help and support.

Some of them lied to me so throughly that they lied about who they were, where they lived, their job, their gender, their nationality, what other characters /accounts they had and everything else you could think of for over TWO years.

I've had one that claimed to be my best friend, sit on my couch, my actual couch, in my house and lie to my face. Lie to me and his long term partner and mother of his three kids that he wasnt cheating with a cheap bitch he met online (the third person he'd done it with I found out after) I only found out about her when she messaged me to tell me.

I stopped talking to him, after their friends started a smear campaign against me, and even then EVEN THEN, I talked it out and started talking to him again. But he turned it around and started blaming me and guilt tripping me again. So I cut him off. He stalked me. Like messaging my friend, posting things to me (actual letters through the mail) making new accounts to message me, buying new phone sims to call me. This was 6 years ago. He called me at the start of lockdown and left a message on my voicemail.

This man mentally abused me. He'd force me to talk to him when I had a problem and then he'd not like what I said, so he'd go silent and ignore me for up to three days, to the point that I'd worked myself up so much that I was apologising, that I was taking the blame for having feelings, only when he got that would he talk to me.

He was an alcoholic who worked in care if you can believe that, I supported him through him getting sober again, he still did all that to me.

I gave up on role play and let my character, my home, the one place I felt comfortable and safe, up. And I didn't go back for two years. I got talked around by someone, they made promises, I stupidly fell for it.

I then got used to bring their character back and to help them sort out storylines. I was then told they didn't want to work with me anymore because they had too much going on in their personal life, they blocked me and I then got screenshots that that had another writing partner already.

That broke me. That broke me and fandom and people and everything really.

I vowed never to go back.

Then I stumbled upon you lot. And I told myself not to get involved, not to start talking to anyone, not to start trusting again. Now look! Now bloody look!

I'm what... 500k + in a story that was never meant to be, I'm actually writing and collabing with people again and I have a character that I adore and feel just as comfortable with... And that is fucking scary.

It's sooooo scary. Like terrifying scary to me.

Because I'm having to trust again. Selene is like public property now, and I love how much everyone has accepted and adopted her and how they use her and write her too, that warms this cold, dead, suspicious heart of mine.

Because I can honestly say that Selene and John saved me and my sanity.

I am quite a sociable person, I love to chat to people and if I'm your friend I will go out of my way to do my best for you, to be there for you and to support you in every way I can. But I know I can be used and I dotn always see the bad in people. So I cut myself off and refused to allow myself to make friends again.

I was writing my novels and that was it. No interaction, no fun really. Then this loud mouthed witch blazed into my head, took one look at the spaceman and said "that one, he's mine, wrap him up I'll take him to go" and here she is.

They made writing fun again, they made it spontaneous and exciting, I suddenly had ideas again, people to talk to about the characters I love and it was hard. Because it was also good.

I had to trust the process, trust Selene.

But I'm also so wary. I'm wary that I'm gonna piss people off, that I'm going to annoy people with her and that people hate her. I know people don't like OCs' and I get major anxiety about that.

I've never had this amount of anxiety over stories before, never. Not my rp, not my novels, not the ones I did for class or competitions, nothing. This is singularly the most stressful writing I've ever done. Because these boys, they mean the world to me, they always have. They have always been my happy place since I was 5/6, they have always been my heart and home.

The problems I had in rp made me not like the books that I loved, the fandom I was in, because of peoples interpretations of the characters, the way they played them and the fact that they were so nasty to me. And I really really don't want that to happen here.

A few weeks ago I noticed that an account had bene set up that was clearly a piss take of me, of this account. And all the old fears and anxiety came rushing back. I instantly went running to Squiddy and Olliepig and basically tumbled around the group chat in a mess for a few minutes before I calmed down and realised what was going on and had a guess at who it could be.

But it's scary. Because I've been stalked, I've been badmouthed, I've had people make fake accounts of me to cause trouble, and it weighs on me.

Willow Salix is my author name, I had to choose that because my Pagan name (which I was writing under and still do on ff and a03) was too well known and my stalkers were reporting it every time I made a new account.

I had to come to love this name, come to see it as myself (willow is my actual real name btw) and feel comfortable with it. It's taken a long time, I've built my brand from it. I have five novels out under it. And to think of someone having an account with even a parody of that name gave me all sorts of chills.

I'm OK now, but yeah. Fun times.

So I guess... I just want people to talk to me. And I don't mean shine by ego lol, I mean that if I ever do anything to piss you off. If I ever say anything you don't like. If I ever annoy you with Selene or anything at all, PLEASE just come and talk to me.

I might put on a tough mask, and in general I am pretty hardy, but I'm a typical cancerian, hard outer shell, squishy inside.

Selene is my sanity in a home life that is far from easy, I won't go into major details but disabled husband, I'm a full time carer, he's majorly depressed and it's just... Yeah. Anyway, she's my refuge, she's my escape right now.

Actually making a side blog for her took so much guts, to allow her free rein to speak and act is scary as heck for me. Because I've been there and vowed to never go back.

The only good thing I took out of all my years of rp, apart from being able to make up a story pretty much on the spot, spontaneous replies, dialogue skills and character development, is my best friend in all the world @endellionaeternus who has seen it all and stuck by me through it all.

I have no real idea why I just typed all this, I guess I needed people to see where I'm coming from, and why Selene exists.

Yeah...

[razieltwelve]

Glare (Final Rose)

Victoria was known for walking around with an expression that was somewhere between a mischievous smile and a teasing smirk. However, her current expression was nowhere near a smile or a smirk.

“Go back inside and change.”

Xanthe stared at her in disbelief. “What? Why?”

Victoria’s eye twitched. The younger girl had been something of a string bean when she’d first joined their team, all knees and elbows. That had apparently changed over the summer, and Xanthe had clearly not noticed if she thought her current attire was at all appropriate for a bit of swimming at the beach to celebrate the last bit of their semester break.

“Have you looked into a mirror lately?”

“Uh... I looked into one this morning.” Xanthe gave her that endearingly sweet smile. It was almost enough to give Victoria diabetes. “I didn’t really notice anything.”

Victoria sighed. “You didn’t notice that maybe your bikini is a little... tighter than it might have been in the past?”

“A little, I guess...” Xanthe shifted about nervously. “But I was still able to put it on, so...”

Victoria looked heavenward. Where did this kind of oblvious naivety come from? She doubted it was from Xanthe’s mother. Pyrrha might act all sweet and innocent, but Victoria had heard from more than one source that Pyrrha had been the one chasing Jaune, and she’d taken zero chances when it came to staking her claim.

“Well, I think you need to take another look in the mirror, and don’t just look at your face.”

“...” Xanthe tilted her head to one side. “What do you mean?”

“It means you’d be arrested for indecent exposure if we weren’t the only ones at this beach,” Lace shouted. “Because that bikini of yours hardly covers anything.” She leered at Xanthe, and Victoria fought the urge to step in front of the blonde. “The summer has definitely been kind to you.”

It took Xanthe a few moments to realise what Lace meant before she gave a horrified squeak and then ran for the makeshift hut that Victoria had set up for them to change in.

Victoria looked at Lace. “And people say I lack tact.”

“Vicky baby, our dear Xanthe is almost completely oblivious when it comes to her own appeal to others. She was already exceptionally pretty, but now that she’s really starting to fill out? We’re going to have to fight off suitors with chainsaw.” Lace flicked her wrist, and a glowing chainsaw appeared. “Which, incidentally, we can do because I can make chainsaws.”

“Oh, please,” Salix said as she emerged from the water, a series of Glyphs allowing her to breathe beneath the surface. “We can just have Victoria glare at them.”

“Hmm...” Lace grinned. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen that glare of yours. What about you give us a bit of a sample? Imagine someone waltzing in and sweeping Xanthe off her feet. Our sweet teammate is far too naive to know what to do, so there’s no telling what sort of hopeless vagabond she might fall for -”

Victoria glared.

“...” Lace swallowed thickly and fought the instinctive urge to scream and run. “Well... I can see you’ve definitely still got your family’s famous glare working...”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

Xanthe is arguably the most purely talented person in her year at Beacon. It basically comes down to her or Victoria. Unlike Victoria, however, Xanthe is almost painfully naive. It’s something Victoria and the others are doing their best to correct while also protecting her until she’s capable of protecting herself.

Victoria being a machiavellian schemer is the most worried. She knows exactly what someone like her could manipulate Xanthe into doing, so she’s always on the lookout to make sure that nobody actually gets that chance. Looks-wise, an adult Xanthe resembles Pyrrha but a shade taller and a tad less curvaceous. She has blonde hair and green eyes.

Funnily enough, at the time of this snippet, Victoria is still in her scrawny ragamuffin phase, so she looks utterly out of place next to her teammates. Her ‘growth spurt’ is a few months away from kicking in.

[and-claudia]

The Trials: Phase One (A Clan of Our Own) (The Mandalorian x Reader) Part 28

So, The Trials is two phases and each phase will be it’s own part. 

Word Count: 2211

TAG LIST IS OPEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!

not my gif but it is cute as hell!!!!!!!!!!!

Shortly after we arrived on Avis we were whisked away to my trial. The Elders all sat up on the balcony, looking down at us as we entered. 

"Who has been brought before us?" Elwyn, the eldest of the nine, spoke. 

"Yn Djarin, formerly (last name), her riduur, Din Djarin, and a foundling that is in their care." The man that was escorting us spoke. 

"Who stands on trial before us?" 

"Yn Djarin stands on trial." 

"For what does she stand on trial?" 

"The removal of her helmet before someone not in the clan, nor a Mandalorian at all." 

I tried to stay calm as the conversation between them went on. I knew I was going to have to recount the events that led me here, including how my helmet was removed and this was not something I was looking forward to doing. At least I had Din with me. 

"Very well. The trial must take place alone." He announced and my heart nearly stopped.

"What?" I asked, already freaking out a bit. 

"Only the one on trial may stay in here." 

"Excuse me, sir?" Din spoke up. 

"Yes, Din Djarin, is it?" 

"Yes sir. Is there any way the rules can be bent to allow me to stay here with her? Please?" He looked over at me, "She's been through a lot, and it's very difficult to recount it all, especially alone." 

"I am sorry but rules are rules. You and your foundling will be allowed to wait in an adjacent room, where you'll be able to watch the trial on a monitor. If you are needed, you will be notified to reenter, otherwise, you must stay in the room." 

"Yes sir." Din said in defeat, he knew better than to try and argue his way through this one. He didn’t want to risk his actions affecting their decisions. 

"Please follow me, Mr.Djarin." The man said to him to lead him out. 

Before he left he wrapped his arms around me gave me a few whispers of encouragement, then he pulled back and rested his helmet against mine. One last kiss. 

I watched anxiously as he walked out then turned back to the Elders. 

"Would you like a chair to sit in, dear?" One of the Elder ladies, Cosima I believe, asked. 

"Yes please, I'd appreciate it." I answered. 

A part of the floor split open and a new piece of flooring with a chair rose up beside me. I took a seat and wait for instructions. 

"Are we ready to begin?" Elwyn asked the others. 

They all nodded. 

"Good. Yn Djarin, you stand before the nine Elders of Clan Valkyd, for showing your face to someone who was not of our clan, by adoption, marriage, or any other means, and was not a Mandalorian at all. Is that correct?" 

"Yes sir." I answered. 

"Okay, please remove your helmet.” I did as he requested, “Thank you, now we will begin phase one of the trial. The recount. You must explain everything from the events leading up to the removal of your helmet up until the moment you landed here on Avis. Be sure to include names, dates, locations, and details when possible. At any point, we may ask you to stop so we may ask you questions. Is that understood?" 

"Yes sir." 

"Good. You may begin." 

I took a deep breath. 

"As you may know my secondary clan was the one on Nevaaro, a predominantly bounty hunting clan. Nearly nine months ago, I had been hunting down a particularly difficult bounty when I was overwhelmed by his backup crew. I tried to run but got shot badly in the process, I still have a scar from it. I was bleeding out in a dark alley when a man found me." 

"Did you know this man?" One of the Elders, a man named Salix, spoke up. 

"No sir, I still don't actually know who he was. He claimed that he could help me and that he had worked with Mandalorians before so he knew not to remove my armor. Against my better judgment, due to the swaying consciousness that I was in, I agreed to let him help. I remembered him picking me up and carrying me away. I do not know where he had taken me. I had passed out from blood loss by that point. He patched me up but also..." I paused. I could feel my breathing hitch. 

"He removed all of my armor, including my helmet along with all of my underclothes as well. I am assuming that at sometime after he patched me up either he himself or someone he worked for had come in and taken advantage of me being unconscious. When I woke up, I was completely bare, strapped down to a cold metal table. My armor along with my clothes and weapons were discarded in a pile in the corner of the room. Someone came in and I used the force against them to manipulate them into removing my restraints. They did and after getting dressed I fled the facility I was in, but not after killing the man who had taken me. It was not out of revenge, he was on my way to escape and he needed to be removed from my path. Once I was out I fled the planet. When I felt like I had gotten a safe distance away and was sure no one had trailed me, I removed all of my armor knowing that I would have to return here for a trial since my helmet had been removed.” 

"Din Djarin is not the father of the child you carry, is he?" Cosima asked gently. 

Though the answer seemed obvious, I knew she was asking just to confirm. 

"Biologically no, but in every other sense absolutely." I said passionately. 

They nodded. 

“For the next few months, I jumped from planet to planet. I found out I was pregnant about a month or so after leaving. Then about a month after that is when the first bounty Hunter came after me. I managed to fight him off and escape. After that, I continued to move from planet to planet only staying put when funds ran low. That’s actually how Din found me. I had stopped on a planet for a few days working at an inn for a few weeks to get some credits to get me to my next stop.” 

I continued to tell them about how Din found me in the little apartment building and how I allowed him to take me because I was tired of running. I told them about how he decided that I didn’t deserve to go back and how I revealed to him who I was. After I had told them about Sorgon, I was finishing up telling them about the time we went and did that job for Ran. 

“So what happened to the rest of your crew?” One of the newer Elders, a woman I had remembered from my time here, Lyra, questioned. 

“In prison I assume. We locked them into a cell before leaving and returning to Ran.” I said. 

“And what became of that distress beacon?” She continued to press. 

“It was planted at Ran’s station. X-wings came in as we were leaving I believe.” I explained, they nodded knowing what would have ensued after the x-wings arrived. 

Memories of my first jobs with Ran flooded my system and I couldn’t help the twinge of sadness that accompanied it. In many ways, he was family to me. 

After taking a deep breath, I picked back up the story and led them all through the rest of the things that had happened, finally getting to the part where we were back on Nevarro. It was the hardest part for me to get through. My voice shook as I told them about how I thought I had lost Din. 

“Take your time, sweetheart, it’s okay.” Cosima said. 

She was so kind and gentle towards me. I could only assume she has children and probably grandchildren of her own. She just had that loving, motherly aura about her that was comforting. 

I took a deep breath to gather myself once again. I ended up crying when I got to the point where I had thought, at that time, that I was going to lose Din. I paused for a moment to calm down, but before I got the chance, one of the Elders began speaking. 

"Actually, I think we've heard enough." Elwyn spoke up once again holding his hand up to stop me from speaking. 

How could they have heard enough? I wasn’t finished. Had they already made up their minds? Were they going to make me leave? I was spiraling into a pit of confusion. 

My panic must have been evident on my face. 

"Please do not stress, it's not good for the child. You may go sit with your riduur while we discuss a few things. Then you will return for phase two." He ordered. 

I only nodded stunned but made no attempt to move just yet. Next thing I knew Cosima was rising from her chair and coming down the grand staircase on the far wall. She gracefully made her way over to me as her gown flowed beautifully. 

“Come along dear.” She offered me her hand. 

I took it as I stood and she led me over to the room where Din was. 

When she walked in with me she allowed Din to take the hand she had been holding. 

“You aren’t force-sensitive are you?” She asked him. 

He shook his head no, “No I’m not, the kid is though.” He said nodding down to where our son was being held in his father’s free arm that I wasn’t clutching into. 

“Oh my, I do hope I get to come watch you train.” She said leaning over slightly and smiling at the child, “You’re very strong little one.” 

Her attention then turned back to me. 

“Deep breathes dear, deep breaths.” She instructed. 

I did as she instructed as Din led me to the small couch to sit and Cosima pulled up a chair. 

“Do you know what phase two entails?” She asked 

I shook my head, “I was so worried and stressed about phase one I forgot about the others.” 

“Okay, it’s fairly simple. Phase two will be an individual interview or trial if you will with each of the nine elders. Now, in the past when I’ve been apart of one of these, the person who was on trial was allowed to select the order in which he or she saw us. If that is the case I would like to suggest you go see Lyra first. She’s the newest to the council and is still quite rough around the edges from her being raised by those zealots who refuse to remove their helmets for any reason even in front of their spouses or children.-“ 

Din cut her off accidentally, “Wait those exist?” 

“Oh yes, most definitely. There is a handful of different sectors of Mandalorians all across the galaxy, each with varying rules on the removal of helmets as well as a plethora of other matters. I mean take your clan and Clan Name, they are quite different yes?” 

Din nodded. 

“Anyways as I was saying, go to Lyra first, hers will be the worst most likely. Then perhaps Quel next,” she paused and but two fingers to her ear, I could only assume she was listening to an earpiece, “Yes, I would go to Quel next, it seems that he feels for the circumstances in which the events leading to the removal of your helmet took place, but he is a bit worrisome of why you haven’t arrived sooner. Then I would suggest using Nye and myself as buffers after a particularly difficult discussion. He has already made up his mind on the matter. Having been married to him for so long, we can know what one another is thinking without much effort, and we both are voting in your favor. As for everyone else though, I’m afraid I can’t be of more help, dear.” 

“No, please don’t apologize, you’ve been so helpful. Thank you.” I said truthfully. 

She nodded. 

“I must return, they will come to get you when we are ready. Remember choose the order, the only rule is the eldest of the nine, which is now Elwyn, must be the one you go to last.” 

I nodded once more. 

“Good luck dear.” She said before slipping out of the small room. 

In an instant, Din’s helmet was off and his arms were holding me tightly as I let all the anxieties and bottled up emotions of retelling my story. He gently rocked side to side as one of his hands rubbed my back soothingly and the other tangled into my hair as it held my head to where it was, buried into the side of his neck. 

“You did so good, (Mando sweetheart). I am so proud of you.” He continued to whisper gentle praises to me. 

I had finished crying, but Din made no attempt to let go of me until there was a knock on the door. 

@smarticles96​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @reallyfuckingangrylatina​ @fan-g0rl​ @ithinksheneedsahug​​ @lchufflepuffcorn​ @weebnumber3622​ @bunniotomia​ @talesfromtheguild​ @killtherandomness​ @mserynlarsen​ @squishybitchy​ @herbo-hours​ @kaylafreakinrose​ @agingerindenial​ @shadowfoxey​ @poguesvixen​ @deliriousgeek​

@mikariell95​

[selene-tempest]

It's Scott's birthday, and we love him, so I made a special effort to find the best card I could. Then John text and said "Get one for me too, you're better at this than me" so I did, because I'm awesome.

The one I actually gave him...

And the one I bought but saved for next year...

Now he had better damn well appreciate them.

I've heard that my author lady @willow-salix and Cat's author @olliepig have written down our birthday shenanigans, but since it's Easter and there is a lot of posts going out today, they have decided to wait a few days to post it.

So I'll just say again, Happy Birthday to the best biggest idiot in the world.

[olliepig]

Centre Stage chapter 7

Huge thanks to beta extraordinaire @willow-salix for helping me to knock this into shape, and to both her and @misssquidtracy for listening to me moaning about it for the last few weeks. 

As always, it’s on AO3 here.

*****

“I’ll take these,” Scott smiled as he held out his arm, allowing Cat to drape her coat over it. “Why don’t you go and pour us a drink while I hang them up?”

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Cat grinned, ghosting a kiss across his lips before turning and heading towards the small bar in the lounge, a smile continuing to play on the corners of her lips at the promise of more to come.

Grabbing the glasses, she busied herself pouring some wine for herself and a whisky for Scott, wrinkling her nose at the smell as she crossed the room and set it down on the table before making herself comfortable on the enormous sofa. It was not a drink that she liked particularly, although she had to admit that only ever tasting it as it sat on Scott’s lips was definitely making it more palatable to her.

Taking a sip of her drink, she relaxed back into the cushions, happily reliving the events of the evening. Despite being out of sorts when leaving for dinner, Scott’s mood had improved greatly once they had arrived at the restaurant and they had spent the whole meal laughing and reminiscing about all the other times they had been there. The food was still just as good as they remembered and she had thoroughly enjoyed revisiting it, even if the start of the meal had been marred slightly by the fallout from her interaction with Penny before they had left for dinner.

She still felt terrible for snapping at Scott when he was only trying to help and knew that an apology was needed, along with an explanation of what had caused her to react like that. It wasn’t something that she was looking forward to, but their agreement that good communication would be key to keeping their relationship running smoothly was fresh in her mind and she was unwilling to repeat past mistakes by brushing it under the carpet and pretending that nothing had happened. She had clearly upset him, even if she didn’t fully understand how that upset had translated into his uncertainty about his choice of restaurant for the night. It was a mystery that she hoped to get to the bottom of as it definitely seemed to her that there was something more going on that she hadn't been privy to.

Sensing movement behind her, she turned, a smile creeping onto her lips as she placed her glass back on the table and stood to meet him, her eyes locked onto his. Looping her arms around his neck, she enjoyed the look of surprise on his face as she pulled him into her. She caught his lips with her own in a soft, lingering kiss before pressing herself closer, burying her head in his chest as she savoured the feel of his warm body through her dress.

“What was that for?” he grinned, kissing her forehead before pulling back a little to take in the beautiful girl that he seemed to be lucky enough to be holding in his arms.

“Nothing,” Cat smiled innocently, as she shifted in his arms in order to place a soft kiss at the base of his throat where his shirt collar was sitting open. “It’s just been a while since I got to kiss you properly so I thought I’d take the opportunity.”

“It’s been four hours,” Scott laughed, trying to ignore the shivers of pleasure that were shooting through him as she kissed up his neck and along his jaw. “And I’m pretty sure you’ve managed longer than that in the past.”

“Only because I’ve had to,” Cat shrugged. “If it’s not a necessity, then why should I? Anyway, I don’t see you complaining.”

“Damn right I’m not,” Scott grinned, a dangerous sparkle appearing in his eyes as he gave in to her, capturing her mouth with his once more in a bruising kiss. Without warning he scooped her up in his arms, ignoring her shrieks of surprise as he carried her back across the room and laid her gently on the sofa.  

“What are you doing?” Cat giggled, struggling to sit up again as he kissed his way up her neck, nipping playfully at her skin with his teeth. “We can’t do that on the sofa.”

“Why not?” he asked, raising an eyebrow quizzically as he sat up to look at her. “We’ve done it on your sofa before.”

“That’s different.” “I don’t see how,” he replied a little huffily. “They’re both about the same size.”

“Because that’s my sofa,” Cat explained patiently, trying very hard to ignore the sensation of Scott sliding his hand up her leg. “Cleaning sofa cushions is a total faff and other people will be sitting here tomorrow. That's just nasty.”

“So you don’t want me to keep doing this then?” Scott grinned, punctuating each word with a kiss, moving his way up her neck, nuzzling in under her hair.

“You’re such a pain in my arse, Scott Tracy,” Cat complained, unable to keep the smile off her face as his warm breath made her heart race. “I needed to talk to you and this is not helping me focus.”

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” Scott apologised, pushing himself back up, concern visible in his eyes as his mind instantly flashed back to his earlier worries. “Is everything OK?”

Cat suppressed a giggle at his sudden change in demeanour as she struggled upright, smoothing down her dress where it had ridden up around her thighs. You could take the man away from International Rescue, she thought, but you could never get him to switch off completely.

“Everything’s fine, you don’t need to worry” she soothed, reaching out to cup his face with her hand, smiling when he kissed her palm as he leant in to her touch. “I just wanted to apologise for snapping at you earlier when I was angry with Penny. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you and I’m sorry.”

“That’s OK,” Scott smiled, letting out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding as relief surged through him. “I was a bit worried that I’d done something to upset you, but so long as everything’s alright then it’s fine.”

“What could you possibly have done to upset me?” Cat asked, shocked that he could have thought such a thing.

“It’s stupid really,” Scott began, taking a deep breath as he forced himself to admit to his insecurity, remembering their promise of open communication and honesty. “I just wasn’t sure if you were happy with where we were going for dinner, and when you snapped at me I thought that you’d maybe been complaining about it to Penny.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Cat exclaimed, throwing her arms around him and practically bowling him over backwards onto the sofa. “I’m so sorry you thought that but I promise I wouldn’t do that to you. If I had an issue with anything I’d talk to you, not go bitching about it behind your back.”

“See, logically I knew that,” Scott smiled as she brushed his cheek with her lips and pushed herself upright again, reassured by her response that all his issues had been in his head. “I was just worried that tonight wasn’t going to be as fancy as you hoped it was going to be. I’d just spotted your evening dress in the wardrobe and I was worried that you’d been hoping to go somewhere that you could wear it. Then I walked into the room and you were angry and I guess I just panicked a bit.”

“Well, that explains why you were asking me so often if I was happy to go to Tarrants when we were leaving,” Cat interjected, feeling a wave of shame that she had made him feel that way wash over her as she realised it had been her actions that had triggered his uncertainty.

“When I first decided to bring you here, I was going to take you out to one of the really nice restaurants in town,” he explained, taking a sip of his drink for strength before placing it carefully back on the table and continuing. “But when I really thought about it, all I could picture was going back to the places we used to go.”

“And you were worried that I’d think that you were being a cheap date or something?” Cat questioned, her brows knitted together in confusion as she tried to follow his line of thinking.

“Something like that,” he nodded. “I always wanted to take you to fancy places before, but on my salary, I just couldn’t quite justify it and now that I can, all I want to do is revisit old memories.”

“And you know something? That’s what made tonight so special,” Cat smiled softly as she pulled him towards her and kissed him gently, her heart melting at his sentimentality. “We can go to fancy restaurants anywhere in the world, but these places that have significance to us? They only exist here and we should visit them again.”

“Are you sure?” Scott checked, still not fully allowing himself to believe that he hadn’t messed things up. “You’re not disappointed that you didn’t get to wear that dress that’s in the wardrobe?”

“Is that what this is about?” Cat couldn’t help the laugh of surprise that escaped her, amazed that he could possibly think she’d be upset about wearing a dress. “I only brought that because I had no idea what to expect. I talked to Penny last week and she said I should be prepared for every eventuality so I thought I’d chuck in something more formal just in case.”

“Really?” Scott couldn’t help but ask again.

“Really,” Cat reassured him. “But what’s this actually about Scott? 'Cause this isn’t like you.”

“Nothing gets past you, does it?” he asked with a wry grin, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it softly. “Honestly, I don’t even know. I was really looking forward to having a nice meal out at a place that used to mean a lot to us and up until we were about to leave I was totally sure it was a great plan. Then I saw that dress and you were angry and snapped at me, and I started to think I’d got it all completely wrong and that you’d be happier going somewhere a bit fancier.”

He paused, taking another sip of his drink as he tried to sort through his thoughts enough to get to the root of the problem. Swirling the liquid around in the glass, words formed that he didn’t even want to say for fear of offending her, but he had promised that he would always be honest and so he steeled himself for her reaction.  

“I guess I… I just let myself get worried that because of who I am, you expected more from me,” he finished quietly, hardly daring to look at her.

“But I don’t expect anything from you Scott, surely you know that?” Cat inquired, squeezing his hand, needing to feel the connection with him as she tried to silence her brain that was currently screaming that she ought to be upset by his words. Instead, all she felt was compassion, knowing that this wasn’t normal for the man she knew and loved.

“I didn't mean I think you’re some kind of gold digger or anything,” he hastily explained, hating what he knew he’d just implied. “It’s just that you’re so glamorous now. You always look incredible, and you get invited to all these galas and fancy openings of things, and I thought I was letting you down tonight.”

“OK, I think I understand,” Cat nodded, relaxing back on the sofa as her whirling thoughts quickly calmed, the logic behind his statement sinking in. “I know I dress a bit differently now, but it’s just because I can afford to, not because I’ve changed inside. And you couldn’t let me down if you tried, so please, don’t get worried about that.”

“I’m sorry,” he smiled at her ruefully in that way that always made her heart melt. “I know I’m an idiot but I’ve had experiences before with people who were only with me because of my name and my money. I guess I just forgot that I don’t need to worry about that anymore.”

“The unfortunate downside of your success?” Cat sympathised, realising that his job wasn’t the only thing that had made it hard for him to form relationships while they had been apart. “That must have been so hard to deal with.”

“It had its moments,” Scott agreed with a small smile, hoping that she hadn’t seen the flash of pain that had shot through him at the memory of the last relationship he had attempted. “Those kinds of girls were pretty easy to weed out, to be honest, 'cause they tended to get pretty angry when they realised that, just because I could afford to take them out to nice places, it wasn’t always what I wanted to do. It was the one that tried to play the long game that was the real problem...”

Scott flopped back on the sofa, running a hand through his hair as he tried, once again, to marshal his thoughts, knowing that there was a conversation there if he could just get up the courage to revisit a memory that he’d rather forget. Feeling Cat’s eyes on him, he forced himself to look up and meet them, finding them full of compassion and love that made his heart swell. Reaching out, he cupped her cheek, softly tracing the pad of his thumb over the soft skin beneath her eye as she leaned into his touch, turning her head just enough to gently press her lips to his palm. In that moment, he felt like the luckiest man alive to have someone who was willing to listen and try to understand him rather than jumping to conclusions and flying off the handle as others had done before her.  

“I just don’t want to let you down,” he continued, voicing one of his deepest and most abiding fears as he took both of her hands in his and gave them a squeeze. “You’re amazing and beautiful and glamorous and you deserve to be treated to all the fancy restaurants and parties in the world, but that’s not really me. I like going out and doing that sort of thing sometimes but a lot of the time I’d rather just stay home and order pizza.”

“And so would I,” Cat assured him, watching him carefully as she rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb, wanting the comfort of his closeness while still well aware that there were still things that she wasn’t being told. “Scott, listen, I know you think you’ve got me all figured out but that version of me in your head isn’t real. The real me couldn’t give a flying fuck about fancy places 'cause the food in them is too small to be considered a meal anyway. Yeah, it’s fun getting dressed up and going out sometimes but most of the time I’m happier on the sofa with a takeaway.”

“Really?” he checked, as she moved slightly closer to him, feeling his tense shoulders relax slightly in relief that her reassuring words were being backed up by her actions.    

“Really,” she smiled, glad that his uncertainty seemed to be lifting. “I love you. And one of the reasons that I love you is because you’re a sentimental sod who could have chosen to go literally anywhere in the world but decided to take me back to our favourite restaurant, ten years after we were last there. That’s the real you, and the girl that sat opposite you all night, grinning like a loon, is the real me.”

Scott relaxed back on the sofa with a sigh, dropping her hands to rub his face before looking back up at her. “Thank you. You were the last girlfriend I had where I could properly be myself without worrying, so it’s been a while, and I guess I’m still getting used to it again.”

“And that’s OK,” Cat soothed. “We’ve not been together that long and it’s absolutely fine to still be finding our feet. Just because we dated before doesn’t mean we know each other perfectly now. All it means is that we have a bit of a headstart on the basics.”

“I guess you’re right. I always expect too much, too fast,” he sighed, rubbing face in frustration at his constant need to have everything right away.  

“No, you’re just passionate. You care about everything and everyone and that’s no bad thing.”

“Try telling that to my grandfather,” Scott muttered darkly, his eyes shooting up to meet Cat’s as he realised what he’d said.

“Scott?” she questioned, suddenly feeling uneasy, her concern written across her face.

Shifting uncomfortably on the sofa, Scott finished his drink in a single gulp before abruptly standing. Striding over to the bar in silence to refill his glass, his mind whirled with thoughts he’d kept to himself for decades. Grabbing the bottle, he resisted the urge to take a swig, instead watching intently as he poured the golden liquid into his tumbler. He paused, preparing himself before heading back over to the sofa, knowing she'd want him to talk but still no clearer as to what he was going to say.

Cat sat quietly watching him, confused and unable to get a read on what he was thinking, her mind flooded with concern for the man she loved. She had no idea what he could possibly be about to say, or even if he would choose to share with her whatever it was that was bothering him. All she knew beyond any doubt, as he settled himself next to her again, was that she would be there for him no matter what he decided.

“My grandfather on mom’s side of the family, he had some interesting views on what it took to be a proper man,” he started tentatively, trying to remind his muscles to relax even though every fibre of his body was telling him to stop talking. “We didn’t see him very often but, whenever he did come to visit, he always kept at me about how I had to be a role model for the others and that they’d never learn if I kept being, well… me.”

Scott paused, waiting as Cat scooted herself closer to him on the sofa, leaning her head on his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him, giving him a squeeze of support that meant more to him than any words ever could.

“He thought that real men shouldn't show emotions, definitely not cry, and that if I wasn’t strong all the time then people would think less of me,” he continued quietly. “Mom always said after they'd left that it was nonsense but then she was gone and when they came to stay for a few weeks for the funeral, it was just constant. No matter where I hid, he always seemed to know. He found me every time and kept telling me that crying was wrong and that it was up to me to lead by example.”

“Well that’s utter bullshit,” Cat hissed, looking up at him in horror, unable to hold her tongue any longer.

“I know,” Scott soothed, scooping her up in his arms and kissing on the forehead as relief surged through him that she had felt the same as he did about his grandfather's beliefs, her unquestioning support meaning more to him that he could ever put into words. Just by unburdening himself and having his feelings validated he somehow felt lighter, like a dark part of his past had been scrubbed clean. “But I was young and I’d just lost my mom so I wasn’t in a position to challenge it and after a while it sort of stuck.”

“And I’m guessing spending the rest of your life being told you’re just like your dad probably hasn’t helped matters either?” Cat ventured, struggling to keep her emotions under control, sensing that the last thing he needed was to have to deal with her anger too.

“You guess correctly,” Scott smiled, beyond grateful to her for picking up the thread of what he was telling her so quickly and sparing him the ordeal of having to explain it to her. “But it means that any time I want to do something for myself, I’ve got these voices in my head taunting me, asking if it’s what Dad would do and whether it’s good enough. It wasn’t too bad before he went missing because he always led by example, but after he did and I had to step into his role, it was awful. I didn’t really have anyone I felt able to talk to about it and I pretty much lost myself completely for a while.”

“Oh, Scott,” Cat breathed, pressing a kiss on his shoulder and giving him another squeeze for support. “That’s absolutely awful.”

“In the end, it was Virgil who pulled me out of the worst of it, although I’m not sure if he even knew what he was actually pulling me out of in the first place.” Scott smiled to himself, remembering the talking to his brother had given him as they sat in a wind battered tent in the Arctic, waiting out a storm on their way to the Aurora generator. “I think all he wanted was for me to stop taking stupid risks before I got myself killed, but he said enough to make me realise that I needed to try to be truer to myself after that too.”

“Good for you,” Cat smiled as she unwound herself from him to take a sip of her drink, pride flooding through her at how he was coping with a situation that sounded unimaginably difficult to her. “How’ve you been finding it?

“It’s mostly been fine but there was one ex...” Scott paused and closed his eyes, steeling himself to relive something he’d done his best to forget. “Well the less said about her the better really.”

Cat’s heart skipped a beat as her eyes snapped to him, taking in the sudden stiffness in his demeanour as he took a deep breath as if to calm himself. It wasn’t like him to not tell her something without a good reason and she was on her guard as the silence stretched between them.

“You OK?” she asked tentatively, reaching out and gently taking his hand in hers, interlacing their fingers and squeezing it tightly.

“Yeah,” he breathed, meeting her eyes and giving her a small apologetic smile as he gave her hand a squeeze in return. “I’m OK. When I said I hadn’t really had any relationships since we were last together it wasn’t strictly true. After I spoke to Virgil, I decided I was going to be more open and try to be more myself with people and I did actually meet someone and started dating them. We were together for about six months and I thought things were going pretty well but then she saw pictures of me joking with Rebecca, my PA at the time, and decided that I was sleeping with her.”

“Obviously,” Cat agreed in a bid to keep the mood light, well aware that this must be a wound reopened by the false claims about his relationship with Selene that had been made only a few weeks before.

“Yep. Because there’s clearly no other explanation.” Scott shot her a small smile, surprised at how easy he was finding it to open up about something that had been so painful. “Anyway, she decided that I needed to be taught a lesson so she engineered it so that the next time we met up, I walked in on her having sex with someone else.”

“What a bitch,” Cat fumed, unable to stay silent any longer for the second time that night.

“Oh, it gets better,” Scott continued, his face grim. “Before she left, she informed me that she was only with me for the money, as well as filling me in on exactly what she thought of me, including that I was worthless and pathetic, my parents would be disappointed in me and that I deserved to die alone.”

“What the actual fuck was wrong with her?” Cat spat, fury bubbling through her veins, ready to jump up and track down the person who had said such horrible things to him and give them a piece of her mind. Nobody deserved to have their deepest fears reflected back onto them like that, especially not someone who put his life on the line every day for others.

“Trust me, I’ve asked myself that on many occasions,” Scott shrugged with a bitter smile. “After that I just shut down and decided that it wasn’t worth it because my grandfather was obviously right. People didn’t like me if I behaved like myself. They were only interested if I was like my dad, or they wanted to use me for what I have.”

Watching the way that he talked with such calm resignation, Cat’s heart broke for him, all anger being chased away by sympathy for the heartbreak that he had endured in his life. Pulling him into her, she wrapped her arms around him, peppering his face with kisses in a bid to show him that he was absolutely loved, exactly as he was.

“Hey, it’s OK,” Scott laughed, his heart feeling lighter than it had in years as he struggled to sit back up, fearful of squashing her. “I don’t feel like that any more, and I know you love me.”

“OK, but just promise me you won't forget that?” Cat asked earnestly, holding his gaze for a moment before snuggling into his open arms.

“Somehow, I don’t think I’ll be allowed to,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms tightly around her and kissing the top of her head, enjoying the way her hair tickled his nose. “This is the first time since then that I’ve been invested in a relationship to the extent that it could hurt me. Tonight was the first time that I heard those voices in my head again, telling me that I wasn’t enough, so I’m sorry I freaked out, but I hope you understand now where it came from?”

“Of course I do,” Cat soothed, cuddling further into his embrace. “And thank you for trusting me enough to share that with me. It means a lot.”

“You’re welcome. I thought I’d gotten over it but I guess it’s sort of still in there,” he smiled ruefully.

“I don’t think those sorts of things ever really leave you, to be honest,” she told him, sitting up and watching him closely as she spoke. “I’ve definitely got things that I was told when I was a kid that I still struggle with but I’ve got better at blocking them out and dealing with them as time has gone on and I’m sure you will too.”

“You might be right there,” Scott mused. “I would have been happier if you hadn’t had to go through anything similar but I guess at least I’ve got someone who understands now.”

“Yay,” Cat laughed, “matching trauma.”

“You’re absolutely nuts,” Scott grinned, capturing her lips with his own, enjoying her surprised squeak as he did so. “Anyway, now I’ve poured my heart out to you, it’s time for you to tell me what Penny did to piss you off so much, since it was her that started all this. I thought she was with Gordon this weekend?”

“Yeah, she was,” Cat huffed, sitting herself up and reaching for her wine, taking a fortifying sip as she tried to work out how best to explain their argument to Scott.

“Uh oh,” Scott remarked, his big brother senses on high alert at the implication that something may have gone awry. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“To be honest, it wasn't so much what happened that pissed me off, it was the fact that she decided to dump it on me when she knew we were away this weekend,” she replied, placing her glass back on the table and flopping back into the cushions behind her. “Basically, she’d planned on doing one thing, but Gordon decided to surprise her with something else and she wasn’t very happy about it. It caused a bit of a fight from the sounds of things and they ended up deciding to cut their weekend short.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound good,” Scott agreed, already rummaging in his pocket for his phone. “I should just quickly check on Gordon and make sure he’s alright.”

“I’m one step ahead of you,” she informed him, placing a hand on his to get his attention and feeling rather smug about her earlier decisions. “I let Selene know what happened and she’s taking care of it. Apparently he’s a bit pissed off but otherwise fine.”

“Aww thank you,” he smiled, pulling her into a hug and pressing a fierce kiss onto the top of her head as his heart swelled with love for the woman who was already looking out for his family. “That’s so sweet of you, looking out for him.”

“You’re very welcome,” Cat grinned, snuggling into his embrace and curling her feet up under her, getting comfy. “Fights with your partner can be horrible and I just wanted to make sure he was OK.”

“Well, I really appreciate it, and at least it sounds like something that can be easily resolved,” Scott mused, stroking her arm absentmindedly as he talked. “Are you sure it’s just the timing that made you angry though? I get that it’s not ideal, but Penny’s your best friend. Was she not just wanting a little bit of support?”

“I think she was, but let’s just say this isn’t the first time Penny and I have had words about this sort of thing,” Cat said grimly, wondering how Scott always managed to see when there was more going on than met the eye.

“Really? I didn’t think it was possible for Penny to ever do anything wrong,” Scott teased.

“Oh, she has her faults alright. Don’t let the upper-class respectability fool you,” she laughed, unable to contain herself. “I don’t really want to get into it tonight, but there’s a lot of history that I promise I’ll tell you about another time if that’s OK?”

“Absolutely,” Scott agreed, giving Cat a squeeze of reassurance. “Whenever you want to tell me about it, I’ll be here. Besides, I can think of better things to be doing tonight than talking about my brother’s love life.”

“Well, I can definitely think of a few other things we could talk about instead,” Cat murmured, shifting in his arms and starting to trail kisses up his jaw.

Tangling his fingers in the long strands of her hair and pulling her into him, Scott’s lips met hers, feeling the stresses of the night melting away as he lost himself in her embrace.

[soniabigcheese]

22nd December - The Tale of the Five Christmas Dinners

Decided to move away from the Christmas song titles for this one.

A big thank you to @willow-salix for helping to choose todays victim.

******

"Urgh."

"You okay bro?'

- a loud burp as a response

Virgil grinned and looked across at his temporary wingman. Who wasn't looking so good.

And was listing heavily to one side in his harness, the hands were clasped around the locking mechanism and appeared to be holding the whole thing away from his body.

"Can't ... move," Scott uttered, belching again, "gonna be sick."

Virgil's hands gripped his 'Birds steering controls. And he ground his teeth.

Oh no ... not on his ship. No way. Just cleaned it out from Gordon's latest prank.

"Hang in there," he said, casting a worried look at his brother, "not long to go."

There were times like this, where he actually wished that Two would go a little faster. He could push her, but decided not to.

"John's navigating Thunderbird One remotely."

It was an obvious declaration and he felt stupid for saying it. But it was something to say during this trip back home with his stricken brother.

And the cause of this emergency?

Oh, Scott being . Well . Scott basically.

----

Both he and Virgil were called out to a flooded village, where they manage to ferry people to the safety of the village hall. As well as attempting to save as many Christmas dinners as they could.

Now, there are two factors to take into consideration with emergencies and their subsequent rescue attempts.

Their unpredictability

And the time it takes to complete a rescue.

Scott was starving, and seeing those trays of roast potatoes, golden basted turkeys, glazed carrots. Even the sprouts with their chestnut accompaniment.

Was too tempting.

So he sneaked a potato here, a sprout there. Anything to quell his hunger.

But one of the volunteers spotted him, grabbed his arm, sat him down at the table, and placed the biggest plate of food in front of him.

He could have refused but ..

He was starving

It wasn't grandma's cooking

It smelled so good

He couldn't refuse because that would have been impolite

It wasn't grandma's cooking

They probably went through a lot of time and effort to make this feast

Definitely wasn't grandma's cooking

It's Christmas

One plateful wouldn't hurt

He looked across at Virgil, who was helping dish out the food and getting a lot of doe eyes from the little old ladies.

Oh well. Here goes.

It was the most delicious thing he'd eaten.

However, one persistent villager, eyed him up and down. Shoved another plateful in front of him and told him he was too skinny and needed fattening up

He tried to push the plate away but it kept coming back ... with even more added on!

And then the plum pudding arrived, with brandy sauce poured over.

He could barely move he was so stuffed. He knew he couldn't pilot Thunderbird One because he was starting to feel the effects of a food coma coming on.

He was so glad that Virgil was there to bring him home.

-----

Virgil strapped him in, Scott loosened the clasp and was instantly rebuked because ...

Safety first you know

Then settled into his own seat and buckled up.

"That was awfully nice of them," he prompted, "feeding us like that."

Scott groaned, wishing for his bed. They were approaching Tracy Island when Virgil piped up ...

"This is your local takeaway service. Four Christmas dinners coming up, courtesy of a bunch of friendly folks. Get your knives and forks ready."

He turned to Scott, who was starting to sweat profusely and looking quite ill.

"Guess you don't want second... uh .. third ...um ..."

Scott held up his hand.

"Oh . FIVE helpings. Wow! Beat my record then!"