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Origami Around
blake kathryn
TANKHALL
cherry valley forever
Keni
Show & Tell
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Today's Document
art blog(derogatory)
Phantogram Three
izzy's playlists!
shark vs the universe
Noah Kahan
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Color Me Curious
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official daine visual archive
Kiana Khansmith
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@i-t-guy-in-the-sky
Happy Birthday John.
Congratulations on completing another revolution around the sun. I will make sure to take excellent care of our home while you are visiting the rest of our family.
I will be nice and share you with them today. Have fun John.
Thank you, Eos.
Selene and the family have made sure that I've had a restful day, though not necessarily a stress free one.
I'll be back up to the office tomorrow morning and we can finish working on that new programme.
Thanks for your answer. Hm. I had you at the top of the list for having your mother’s ring, given that you are front of the queue. Who has it?
There’s a line? That I’m at the front of? Is there some kind of pager system or what? Nobody has briefed me on the line! What am I supposed to be in line for?!
Yeah, not really my thing. I’m not really a rings kinda guy 🙂↔️ (though willing to make one exception I suppose). And if it was to give to someone else, then I’d rather pick something meant for that person, y’know? They’re lovely rings, they’re a very beautiful representation of the love my mom and dad shared… and that’s what they’ll always be to me. Tied to them. So… yeah.
I dunno is the honest answer to that last question. Scott would be my first answer. Maybe Dad now, I’m not sure?
I know where the rings are but not about to post that info on the internet 😏 but I don’t ‘have’ them in the sense they are mine.
Dad tried to give me Mom’s engagement ring once… for me to give someone else one day. But although I didn’t object at the time because he was in a bit of a state, I’d never have done so.
Firstly because her stuff belongs to all of us - just because I was born first doesn’t mean I have first dibs to give it away. But Secondly because, like you say, Gordon, if it ever came to that for me I’d like to give someone a ring that was about her and me, that I’d done my best to pick out according to her tastes and didn’t have a whole loada pressure of history attached to it. No judgment on anyone who does it differently, but for me it would be strange.
I just meant you were the most likely holder of the knowledge of Family Inventory.
But… yeah. Agree all the way.
Pick out? I’m getting the big guy to help me make it, what’s all that artistic talent for if not brotherly use? 😏
This is precisely the reason I had a ring I designed made for Sel, because a ring should be for one person only.
Also, your hoody is no longer in the laundry room, it's currently in London because Sel stole it again. Sorry about that.
Are we finally gonna get a consensus amongst all five of us? Someone mark the calendar, this is a once in a decade situation…
"I'll alert the media," John deadpans, reaching for his coffee mug. "Tracy family finally agrees on something."
Thanks for your answer. Hm. I had you at the top of the list for having your mother’s ring, given that you are front of the queue. Who has it?
There’s a line? That I’m at the front of? Is there some kind of pager system or what? Nobody has briefed me on the line! What am I supposed to be in line for?!
Yeah, not really my thing. I’m not really a rings kinda guy 🙂↔️ (though willing to make one exception I suppose). And if it was to give to someone else, then I’d rather pick something meant for that person, y’know? They’re lovely rings, they’re a very beautiful representation of the love my mom and dad shared… and that’s what they’ll always be to me. Tied to them. So… yeah.
I dunno is the honest answer to that last question. Scott would be my first answer. Maybe Dad now, I’m not sure?
I know where the rings are but not about to post that info on the internet 😏 but I don’t ‘have’ them in the sense they are mine.
Dad tried to give me Mom’s engagement ring once… for me to give someone else one day. But although I didn’t object at the time because he was in a bit of a state, I’d never have done so.
Firstly because her stuff belongs to all of us - just because I was born first doesn’t mean I have first dibs to give it away. But Secondly because, like you say, Gordon, if it ever came to that for me I’d like to give someone a ring that was about her and me, that I’d done my best to pick out according to her tastes and didn’t have a whole loada pressure of history attached to it. No judgment on anyone who does it differently, but for me it would be strange.
I just meant you were the most likely holder of the knowledge of Family Inventory.
But… yeah. Agree all the way.
Pick out? I’m getting the big guy to help me make it, what’s all that artistic talent for if not brotherly use? 😏
This is precisely the reason I had a ring I designed made for Sel, because a ring should be for one person only.
Also, your hoody is no longer in the laundry room, it's currently in London because Sel stole it again. Sorry about that.
Thanks to Anon for making our voices heard.->#IRisataxdodge<-
Why have I been paying taxes then?! Think of all the nepobaby activities I could’ve spent that money on!
I coulda got a whole fleet of Florences… 🤦♂️
If we dodge taxes why do I have so much paperwork? Seriously, would it hurt any of you to keep a receipt?
Re-whatnow?
I get a lotta emails saying we’ve spent money… do those count? Do bulk-buy celery crunch shipments count as tax deductible expenses?
John shakes his head slowly, eyes closed, praying for patience.
"No, as I told Selene, they do not count as receipts.
And no, fueling the Thunderbirds is an expense, fueling Gordon is not. "
I mean arguably Gordon is a Thunderbird… 😉
Hang on so you’re saying you think we SHOULD be claiming the bird fuel back? That’s kind of an embarrassing figure John… let alone the raw materials Brains orders in.
I think it’s better that given we have no income other than our own, we keep things as Dad set it up - IR being a private, voluntary non-profit entity separate from Tracy Industries: a hobby if you will, which claims no expenses from anywhere other than our own (post tax) private income. We don’t even reclaim VAT on the raw materials because, well, when you’re spending that much on jet fuel ingredients the extra %s are kinda an irrelevance.
He did actually get advice on whether we should be formally registered as a Charity in the early days but that results in so much oversight / inspections / interference and of course it isn’t like we ever get or want donations so we couldn’t claim gift aid on our own money (well technically we could but feels awkward) and which country’s tax rules do you go with in the first place?? If we start saying that we should be able to claim anything back… it’s a slippery slope from “we shouldn’t pay tax on this amount” to the GDF saying “we don’t think you should spend that much on the birds” so uh… yeah. Nah.
Happy for you to keep track of things Johnny boy, but I ain’t going to start doing a reclaim-only tax return for IR… the amount we’d recover isn’t worth the effort we’d put in and I have enough complexity keeping TI ticking all the right boxes.
Hey, anything that gives me less work to do is fine with me.
But personal expenses count from your personal accounts and I don't think you realise just how much you spend on hair gel, big brother.
IT’S A DEEPLY NECESSARY EXPENSE!!
None of the others are as good… no matter what Virgil tries to tell me. And you know how… feral my hair gets when it’s not adequately restrained - I’d get no respect from the Board and the rescuees would likely take one look and prefer their chances with the Situation than with me.
*Thins his lips and declines to comment. His supply of gravity paste was running low too and zero-g wasn't great on his hair*
You got the Tracy hair gene too little bro.
Want me to send up a care package with your preferred glue?
No thanks, it's fine, I'll be down later. I'll grab some from the supply closet.
But you could use that big, fancy, 'bird of yours and get me a burger. Extra pickles.
Thanks to Anon for making our voices heard.->#IRisataxdodge<-
Why have I been paying taxes then?! Think of all the nepobaby activities I could’ve spent that money on!
I coulda got a whole fleet of Florences… 🤦♂️
If we dodge taxes why do I have so much paperwork? Seriously, would it hurt any of you to keep a receipt?
Re-whatnow?
I get a lotta emails saying we’ve spent money… do those count? Do bulk-buy celery crunch shipments count as tax deductible expenses?
John shakes his head slowly, eyes closed, praying for patience.
"No, as I told Selene, they do not count as receipts.
And no, fueling the Thunderbirds is an expense, fueling Gordon is not. "
I mean arguably Gordon is a Thunderbird… 😉
Hang on so you’re saying you think we SHOULD be claiming the bird fuel back? That’s kind of an embarrassing figure John… let alone the raw materials Brains orders in.
I think it’s better that given we have no income other than our own, we keep things as Dad set it up - IR being a private, voluntary non-profit entity separate from Tracy Industries: a hobby if you will, which claims no expenses from anywhere other than our own (post tax) private income. We don’t even reclaim VAT on the raw materials because, well, when you’re spending that much on jet fuel ingredients the extra %s are kinda an irrelevance.
He did actually get advice on whether we should be formally registered as a Charity in the early days but that results in so much oversight / inspections / interference and of course it isn’t like we ever get or want donations so we couldn’t claim gift aid on our own money (well technically we could but feels awkward) and which country’s tax rules do you go with in the first place?? If we start saying that we should be able to claim anything back… it’s a slippery slope from “we shouldn’t pay tax on this amount” to the GDF saying “we don’t think you should spend that much on the birds” so uh… yeah. Nah.
Happy for you to keep track of things Johnny boy, but I ain’t going to start doing a reclaim-only tax return for IR… the amount we’d recover isn’t worth the effort we’d put in and I have enough complexity keeping TI ticking all the right boxes.
Hey, anything that gives me less work to do is fine with me.
But personal expenses count from your personal accounts and I don't think you realise just how much you spend on hair gel, big brother.
IT’S A DEEPLY NECESSARY EXPENSE!!
None of the others are as good… no matter what Virgil tries to tell me. And you know how… feral my hair gets when it’s not adequately restrained - I’d get no respect from the Board and the rescuees would likely take one look and prefer their chances with the Situation than with me.
*Thins his lips and declines to comment. His supply of gravity paste was running low too and zero-g wasn't great on his hair*
Thanks to Anon for making our voices heard.->#IRisataxdodge<-
Why have I been paying taxes then?! Think of all the nepobaby activities I could’ve spent that money on!
I coulda got a whole fleet of Florences… 🤦♂️
If we dodge taxes why do I have so much paperwork? Seriously, would it hurt any of you to keep a receipt?
Re-whatnow?
I get a lotta emails saying we’ve spent money… do those count? Do bulk-buy celery crunch shipments count as tax deductible expenses?
John shakes his head slowly, eyes closed, praying for patience.
"No, as I told Selene, they do not count as receipts.
And no, fueling the Thunderbirds is an expense, fueling Gordon is not. "
I mean arguably Gordon is a Thunderbird… 😉
Hang on so you’re saying you think we SHOULD be claiming the bird fuel back? That’s kind of an embarrassing figure John… let alone the raw materials Brains orders in.
I think it’s better that given we have no income other than our own, we keep things as Dad set it up - IR being a private, voluntary non-profit entity separate from Tracy Industries: a hobby if you will, which claims no expenses from anywhere other than our own (post tax) private income. We don’t even reclaim VAT on the raw materials because, well, when you’re spending that much on jet fuel ingredients the extra %s are kinda an irrelevance.
He did actually get advice on whether we should be formally registered as a Charity in the early days but that results in so much oversight / inspections / interference and of course it isn’t like we ever get or want donations so we couldn’t claim gift aid on our own money (well technically we could but feels awkward) and which country’s tax rules do you go with in the first place?? If we start saying that we should be able to claim anything back… it’s a slippery slope from “we shouldn’t pay tax on this amount” to the GDF saying “we don’t think you should spend that much on the birds” so uh… yeah. Nah.
Happy for you to keep track of things Johnny boy, but I ain’t going to start doing a reclaim-only tax return for IR… the amount we’d recover isn’t worth the effort we’d put in and I have enough complexity keeping TI ticking all the right boxes.
Hey, anything that gives me less work to do is fine with me.
But personal expenses count from your personal accounts and I don't think you realise just how much you spend on hair gel, big brother.
Thanks to Anon for making our voices heard.->#IRisataxdodge<-
Why have I been paying taxes then?! Think of all the nepobaby activities I could’ve spent that money on!
I coulda got a whole fleet of Florences… 🤦♂️
If we dodge taxes why do I have so much paperwork? Seriously, would it hurt any of you to keep a receipt?
Re-whatnow?
I get a lotta emails saying we’ve spent money… do those count? Do bulk-buy celery crunch shipments count as tax deductible expenses?
John shakes his head slowly, eyes closed, praying for patience.
"No, as I told Selene, they do not count as receipts.
And no, fueling the Thunderbirds is an expense, fueling Gordon is not. "
Thanks to Anon for making our voices heard.->#IRisataxdodge<-
Why have I been paying taxes then?! Think of all the nepobaby activities I could’ve spent that money on!
I coulda got a whole fleet of Florences… 🤦♂️
If we dodge taxes why do I have so much paperwork? Seriously, would it hurt any of you to keep a receipt?
More reasons why Brains didn't make MAX bipedal...
I don't know @brains-ir. You built Braman, and he doesn't seem to suffer the issues that the robots in the clips do. Though MAX being bipedal and having wheels wouldn't be a good idea. Not unless you taught him to rollerskate.
That is true. Bear in mind that the robots in this clip are from a few decades ago and technology has come a long way since then. Braman doesn't have these issues but for most robots, like MAX for example, bipedalism isn't needed. The design I settled on for MAX is actually much less complex than what I designed for Braman and trying to make MAX bipedal, whilst possible, would've been unnecessarily complicated. Simplicity is often the best course of action.
"If MAX had been given legs it would be even easier for him to trip me up, so I for one am glad he doesn't. "
He whispers to Selene, "I swear, he's out to get me. He likes to make me look bad."
Weird thing that came out in response to the prompt of ‘Touch’
I don’t know where this came from other than my thoughts still being with my pondering post yesterday, that and the thought that people are too quick to judge, too quick to put their own thoughts and feelings onto another person, too quick to jump to their own conclusions rather than simply ask. Thanks to the awesome @gumnut-logic for the prompt and the callenge.
Touch is such a simple word, as can be the gestures themselves. It’s something that most people don’t even think about, it’s something that is so often freely given and received, almost automatically added into gestures of affection and friendship that are now a part of everyday life. No one questions it, no one pays any attention when they see people hugging or kissing, it’s just how it is, even if that touch is so often uninvited, unrequested and sometimes unwanted.
If someone tries to hug you and you flinch, you’re the bad guy, you’re the one in the wrong because you don’t automatically allow someone to invade your personal space. Then you are thought of as cold, unfeeling, unemotional and unsociable. Does anyone bother asking you what you want or if you are OK with it? Not in his experience.
If you don’t freely accept every touch that people choose to bestow upon you, because they deem it necessary even if you don’t, it’s you that is seen as being in the wrong. Never them. Touch can be positive, but it can so easily be negative.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like to be touched, he just had to feel comfortable enough with the people around him that were doing the touching. He hadn’t always been that way, in high school he was quiet but comfortable with his small circle of friends and his family, more than happy to receive pats on the back, a brotherly shoulder bump, a hug or to have someone snuggle up to him during family time.
He was sandwiched in the middle of four brothers, two older, two younger, all with very loud, boisterous personalities, his older brothers always there with a comforting hug or a consolatory arm slung around his shoulder on a bad day, or his younger brothers who’d happily throw themselves on him with little to no warning.
He’d grown up surrounded by people that were free with their affection and never thought twice about touching, and neither had he.
Losing their mother had changed everything for all of them, the youngest two got the most attention, something he’d never begrudged, they had needed it. Their father had withdrawn into himself, leaving Virgil and Scott to pick up the slack with the house and Alan, leaving him to pretty much fend for himself. He’d been extremely close to their mother and without her there to mediate, knowing when he’d had too much and needed some space or when he needed to be drawn back into the family circle, he’d been left to his own devices and that had meant that he’d locked himself away to grieve in peace.
Eventually, as a family they had grown stronger and they had attempted to integrate him back into the family unit but it had been too little too late. He’d withdrawn further and it had been noticed at school where he had grown used to either the pitying looks or the nasty sneered comments that were thrown his way. He was a loser, he was a loner, he was weird. His shy nature and now natural inclination to pull away from any physical contact was a beacon to those with a cruel streak as he’d found out to his cost.
University was supposed to be a game changer, the place where he could find himself and grow comfortable in his own skin but it had had the opposite effect. Long hours spent in solitary study, staying awake into the early hours of the morning to watch his stars, snatching a few hours sleep before attending lectures all day had played havoc with his social skills, poor as they had been before, and had given him an excuse to retire further into himself than he had before.
He’d gotten used to being alone, not having to worry about saying the wrong thing or having to act a certain way. He’d grown used to having his own space, to not having that social interaction, not having people constantly in his face and demanding attention. It was peaceful, quiet and freeing in a way he couldn’t put his finger on but above all it was a relief to be able to think without constant demands on his time.
But with that had come the absence of people who actively sought him out, who would check in with him even if he felt like he didn’t need them to. He made no effort to join any of the fraternities or clubs that the university had boasted, feeling he didn’t have time for them, and so his friendship circles had grown even smaller. Strangers weren’t as inclined to randomly grab him or touch him as his family had been and so it hadn’t been unheard of for him to go days, sometimes weeks without having any form of physical contact with anyone for the first year of his studies.
His second and third years had been a little different, he’d promised Virgil that he’d try to broaden his horizons and spend more time with people that shared his interests and had actively put himself out there a little more. Going to parties, all of which he had hated and made excuses to slip out early, forming friendships, dating, some casual relationships when they had the time, but at heart he’d still been more comfortable alone.
After leaving university and devoting his life to International Rescue full time it hadn’t been unheard of for him to spend more than a month alone in his craft with nothing but the odd call from home. He’d been so busy that he hadn’t even realised that he’d barely spent any time with other humans in over a year.
Coming down to the Island for the first time in more than two months had been a challenge in itself. After the peaceful quiet of space, entering the lounge had been like walking into a wall of sound. A bubbling cauldron of light, noise, energetic siblings and fussing Grandma and it had been overwhelming to his senses. Alan had rushed at him, almost bowling him over in his exuberance and it had caught him off guard. He’d flinched at the sudden impact of a hard, round head connecting with his sternum and Alan had noticed, they had all noticed.
Alan had apologised and John had assured him that it was fine, he just needed a little warning next time, but next time had never come. He didn’t know why, but after that no one had touched him unless he reached out first and he had to admit that he didn’t do it often enough. He just didn’t think about it, he wasn’t used to including others in his daily life. He never reached out because usually he had no one to reach out to.
Sometimes they would forget this unspoken rule that they had implemented without his knowledge and would sling an arm around his shoulders or nudge him with an elbow but they always caught themselves, jerking away as if contact with him burnt and backed off without his say so. It made things awkward for him, like they didn’t know how to act around him and in turn it made it so he didn’t know how to be with them.
Everyone tiptoed around him, like he was a stray dog that had to be left alone in case they scared him off. Like if they came near him he’d run away.
His social anxiety would nag at him, telling him that he was making them uncomfortable, that he was in the way, even though he knew in his heart that it wasn’t true. They loved him, he loved them, but it had become easier to stay away, for all of them to make excuses for his absence.
That was until she came into his life. She was his complete opposite, where he would wait to be invited into someone’s personal space, she shoved her way in and set up camp. Where he was tentative and shy she was bold and confident.
She hadn’t seen him as someone to be pitied or coddled, she hadn’t seen him as someone who wanted to be left alone, she had just seen him as someone she wanted to be close to, so she would be no matter how long that took.
Initially he’d been on edge, his very rusty social skills, his extended periods of alone time, combined with his family’s reluctance to get too close to him had left him with what amounted to a mental barrier between himself and reaching out to people. What if they rejected him like they thought he did with them? What if she was just being friendly and didn’t actually want him that way at all? The thoughts running through his head had been loud and obnoxious, drowning out all rational thought, urging him to stay away and forget about her. And he’d listened to it, done as it bid. Until she had stepped in.
She’d been different, she’d respected his boundaries, been aware of his reactions but instead of backing away and waiting for him to ask, she’d offered herself first.
That had been the difference, she’d offered affection, she’d given him permission to reach out without words and had done it all without making it into a big deal. Because she’d never known him any other way. And that in itself had been refreshing.
He’d had to shift his perspective, had to learn to relax, to open up and accept someone into his heart. After years of being left alone here was someone that very much wanted him close and wanted to be close in return.
There had been a steep learning curve to letting someone as chaotic as her into his carefully controlled life but if anything her ability to never take things personally and to not give a single fuck had been a blessing. He’d quickly learnt that he could say absolutely anything and she would never think the worst of him, she had endless patience and for all her high maintenance ways, a calming energy he was drawn to.
She’d treated him like he was normal, not like he was made of glass that would break any second and he’d responded to it without thinking. She’d touched him unconsciously, a brush of her hand, an arm draped over his as she cuddled against his side watching a movie, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder and he’d done the same. He’d look down and find that his fingers were caressing the soft skin of her wrist, his fingers playing with hers, his hand landing on her knee as naturally as if he’d been doing it forever. And his brothers had watched, watched and smiled.
The shift had been subtle, so subtle he hadn’t been sure at first, but she’d somehow managed to bridge the gap between him and his family that he hadn’t even realised had widened that much.
When she sat next to him the others took it as permission to do the same. When she slid her arm around his waist it gave the others a chance to see that he was fine with it, meaning they followed her lead and draped a casual arm around his shoulders without worrying he’d flinch away.
His brothers had been shocked the first time they had seen her throw herself into his arms after a tough night but that had opened the door for Alan to do the same and John had hugged his baby brother tightly for the first time in years. He was taller, stronger and slightly smellier than he had been the last time it had happened, but he was still the same boy he’d introduced to the wonders of the night sky and rocked as he cried. It had been so incredibly welcome.
It’s strange what you could grow accustomed to given enough time but he hadn’t realised how much he had missed that simple closeness until he had it again. How much he’d missed a casual hand on his arm in the place of words, inquiring as to his well being, how much he’d missed the warm weight of a brother squashed beside him on the couch and was grateful to have it again.
His brothers had seemed more relaxed too, like they weren’t worrying about him as much and that in turn allowed him to relax with them. They were still respectful of his personal space, giving him time to acclimatise to being home before they started mauling him, but that was fine by him. No one was on edge, no one was worrying that they would do the wrong thing, they had found a happy medium that had been lacking. It was nice and above all it was normal.
She was free with her affections and treated his brothers the same way, hugging them, cuddling them, comforting them, loving them and they in turn loved her back. She’d unknowingly become the glue that had cemented him back into the family that he’d broken away from, fitting him back in as if he’d never been gone.
They say that you shouldn’t have to change yourself for love, but sometimes it happens for the better. A good relationship should allow you to grow in ways that benefit you not your partner. He’d never given it much thought before, other than believing it to be a load of sentimental, romantic rubbish, but he was happy to find that it was true.
The first time he’d reached out to touch for comfort had shocked him, for so long he’d not needed anyone, but it had been a long, hard day and she was there, all soft, warm and welcoming. Her hair had smelt like home, her head had fitted perfectly into the curve of his shoulder and she’d melted effortlessly in his arms.
He’d held her, solid and dependable and the world had made sense again. He’d understood what he’d been missing, understood how touch didn’t have to be something you endured but something to be enjoyed.
Touch is a simple word, a simple gesture but it can convey so much.
how do you stay so swag mr john tracy sir
please teach me your ways
"Erm..." He rubs the back of his neck, unsure what to make of the question or how to answer it.
"To what swag are we talking?" he asks, just to confirm. "Is that the same as that Rizz thing the youngsters keep talking about?"
He ponders the question a little longer then says honestly, "I'm just myself, and I hadn't ever thought that was anything particularly swaggerish, so I would say you should just be true to yourself."
He nods, like that solves everything.
what do u smell like?
.... i dunno if you actually want an answer to that?? (mostly i smell laundry soap rn.)
when in your life have you ever smelt like laundry soap.
He smells like whatever teenage deodorant a certain streamer uses.
Ooo ooo! I can answer that! Let me answer that!
*drags Allie into a hug* He smells like hopes and dreams! But also *drops her nose into his hair and inhales deeply* Like Cheetos...with a hint of... *Sniffs again* chlorine, so I'd say he recently dipped in the pool with Squidward... And....*faster sniffs* and chocolate milk!
I think there might be a bit of eau du space there too... Which unfortunately isn't as pleasant as you'd think and unfortunately my darling husband often has the same stench...
*considers him some more* And I think I detect... My strawberry lip balm again!
Wah- Sel! could be worse than a hug -
ignoring everything else uhhhh what does hopes and dreams smell like
John wanders in to -yet again- something weird and unusual going on. Honestly it said something about his previously peaceful existence (if you didn't count the rescues and brothers almost getting themselves killed on a daily basis) that it was more unusual to not walk in on something weird.
But this time his wife was sniffing his brothers like a bloodhound and even he was at a loss to figure out what the heck was going on.
He folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Do I even want to ask what this is all about?"
I got pissed off today.
What can I say, I was hangry and I was not in the mood to play.
Which obviously meant that (spoiler) Scott WAS in the mood to play. And apparently in the mood to die.
Because he stole my most delicious sweet and salty popcorn that I'd carried all the way from the Tesco near my flat.
And when I yelled at him, he grabbed a blanket, threw it over my shoulders and said....
NOW YOURE SUPERANGRY!
Can I kill him yet?
Permission granted.
Mainly because I want to see where this goes…
Omg I leave him alone for five minutes… 🤦♀️
WHY ARE THEY LIKE THIS?!? I married the sensible (mostly) one by the rest? A danger to themselves.
It’s Tracy zoomies, Selene. Tracy zoomies. 😔
I’ll walk him more I promise
Been meaning to visit my parents so I may take Scott with me. He’s always so happy playing with Hazel and Tripod 🥰
Good plan, take him away before I take him out permanently.
Hey! That’s my man you’re talking about.
As his designated best friend I'm allowed to threaten him. It's the law. But no one else is because then I'd kick their arse. It's a complicated balance.
Ah, I see. Must’ve not been updated on the paperwork. As you were 🫡
Thats his fault too! He was supposed to change it from backup boyfriend to bestie forever.
STOP REMINDING ME OF THAT! I'm still not over the horror of that closet and you STILL haven't used the app I made you.
I got pissed off today.
What can I say, I was hangry and I was not in the mood to play.
Which obviously meant that (spoiler) Scott WAS in the mood to play. And apparently in the mood to die.
Because he stole my most delicious sweet and salty popcorn that I'd carried all the way from the Tesco near my flat.
And when I yelled at him, he grabbed a blanket, threw it over my shoulders and said....
NOW YOURE SUPERANGRY!
Can I kill him yet?
Permission granted.
Mainly because I want to see where this goes…
Omg I leave him alone for five minutes… 🤦♀️
At least I'm counted as somewhat sensible.
*sighs*
Now, the question is, do I attempt to save my brother from my wife or pretend I saw nothing?
[FIC] 📖 Thank you to our wonderful community for another fantastic TracyThirstThursday writing session! We’re going to post snippets throughout today of the most ‘liked’ (but let’s be real, all TracyThirst is worth reading! ☺️)
To get us started, a wonderful little piece of work by @MrsTankTracy about the King of the Tools himself 💚
Title: “Heavy Lifting”
Rating: 300% Thirst. OSHA violation levels of tension.
Pairing: Virgil Tracy x Reader
Warnings: Blatant objectification. Emotional damage. Welding.
- 💪🏻- 💪🏻- 💪🏻-
There he was, standing next to the claw assembly of Thunderbird Two. Grease on his forearms, welding goggles pushed up into his messy hair, muscles doing ungodly things under bronzed skin and sweat.
You froze in the doorway, immediately rethinking every choice that led you to this moment, including but not limited to waking up this morning and choosing to have a pulse.
“Hey,” he said, casually, voice like warm thunder, like he had no idea he looked like a sculptor’s forbidden dream.
“You - you’re welding,” you said brilliantly, as though that wasn’t visibly happening in front of your face.
Virgil just smiled, which was a problem. A big one. It was the kind of smile that made you think about lifting things - you, specifically, maybe placed gently somewhere totally appropriate, like a worktable - and not about the unfolding situation at hand.
He walked toward you, wiping his hands on a rag like he hadn’t just given your entire nervous system a jumpstart. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said. “Had some maintenance I wanted to finish.”
You nodded. Like an idiot. “Of course. Why sleep when you can just casually rewire rescue tech with your biceps?”
That caught him. His mouth twitched. “You think my biceps are casual?”
Oh no. Oh no, no, no.
- 💪🏻- 💪🏻- 💪🏻-
I.... I feel like I'm spying on my brother-in-law but ... Yeah.
Also, I feel like I need to post some thirsty posts about the hubby now... Oh John! I'm going to objectify you, is that ok?
@i-t-guy-in-the-sky
@selene-tempest
1) Stop staring at Virgil's muscles
2) I'm used to you objectifying me.
3) I couldn't stop you if I wanted to, I gave up trying years ago.
*waves his hand in a "get on with it then" motion*
We are gathered here today to celebrate the life of Scott Tracy, brother, pilot, rescuer, and idiot.
He met his end at the hand of his beloved sister-in-law and best friend because Mr "I will wear fingerless gloves in the Arctic and damn the consequences" came home and shoved said fingers down the back of his beloved sister-in-law's neck because he thought it would be funny.
Indeed, it was not.
The end.
@scott-flyboy-tracy you're dead to me.
I would try to argue, but I don't lie.
Am I seeing this right? There are fans who still run TAG rp accounts? (other than our dear John because that precious blog is a constant and I am here for it) That is delightful news! 🤩
Yeah, there's a few, I run one for my oc but that doesn't really matter tbh.
We've got @socialitesleuth (Penny) @ill-put-the-kettle-on-then (Fischler) @gordonthesquid (Gords)
That's all the active ones I can think of rn (;^^)
Still here and wearing my holiday hat. It's a vibe, my fishy friends.
🐙🐠🐡
Still here too
