#because you like Bertie despite it all. you love him and want him to be happy

[aceredshirt13]

extremely funny to me seeing people say that Bertie has a heart of gold when his immediate solution to getting Freddie back together with his fiancée was to kidnap a child

[adrenalineeyes]

obviously the best headcanon for george's relationship with thomas when he grows up is the one where george is also gay and he looks to thomas for advice/community/understanding/etc. be it in person (he can move to the us) or through mail

BUT consider the second best, and debatably funniest, headcanon for their relationship in the future: which is basically the bertie & his gay cousin dynamic. like, george is straight and marries a nice girl and everything, but he's a sensitive, kind person, who doesn't treat thomas' sexuality the way robert did (with tolerance but irresponsibility and disregard for thomas' feelings and privacy) or thomas' ex-coworkers (poking fun, using it against him, outing him left and right, not understanding how hard it is for him, etc.). instead, he explains to his wife that the reason why he still keeps in touch with his once servant, is that thomas was the one who spent the most time with him throughout his childhood, allowing him and his siblings to ride on his back for hours at a time while his mother was supervising the estate and going out, often out of town, other adults not being much less busy, and the endless stream of nannies not being very interested in playtime. he waxes poetic about how kind thomas' smile was, and how he was the only adult who was never, ever annoyed at them, not even slightly, who seemingly always had time for them despite his many duties, who has never spoken a single ill word or made an irritated sigh towards them out of tiredness. how, one day, thomas left for good, and he asked his mother why would thomas choose to leave downton when they had so much fun playing together, and his mother said "because he found a person who would make him really happy, and that person lives in america, so they left to be happy there, together". how he taught himself how to write so that he could write to thomas in america, to ask him what was so good about that person, and then what was so good about america, and then what was thomas doing exactly, and then they just kept in touch. thomas never revealed the identity or gender of that person, not even when george discovered that you could fall in love with girls, and started to ask thomas for advice (he would never give his sisters that ammo), since apparently he was so in love with some girl that he moved across the ocean for her. thomas gave him some great advice, although george did find it a bit, well, vaporous at the time. at some point, george discovers gay people (insert your favourite scenario here), and has his hmmm moment, after which he puts all of his writing skills into the effort of helping thomas put his trust in him in regards to his sexuality and choice of partner. having perfected the art of discussing thomas' private life in their letters, he tells his wife (obviously with thomas' consent) about the amazing home that they have built together and about their role in their local community and about how amazing and brave thomas is to have lived through what he did and come out on the other side of it as such a considerate, emotionally developed person, and how much he admires thomas and treasures their correspondence as a genuinely important interpersonal connection in his life, and will never allow anyone who wants to stay in his good graces to disrespect thomas.

TLDR; george & thomas = bertie & his cousin, allyship headcanon 4lyfe

[esperfruit]

More short TTTE Human AU refs

Victor de Cèspedes

Age: 42

Height: 183 cm

Victor is a mechanic and engineer from Cuba. He came to Sodor after he was recruited by Sir Topham Hatt, who heard about his famous skills after the company Victor worked for went bankrupt. He had a lot of trouble shortly after his arrival because he couldn't speak English at first. The first English word he learned was "red" when he chose his new uniform. His primary job is the repairs of machines, there is almost nothing he can't fix.

Despite being busy and strict, he has a charming and accomodating personality and wants to create a good work atmosphere for everyone. He earned many sympathy points with people after he told off Spencer and embarassed him. In an accident, he feel down a cliff but miraculously survived. After he went missing for a while, he cleared up the misunderstanding that Luke might have killed him. Victor has a clumsy assistant named Kevin, who tests his patience on a daily basis but Victor knows he's a good guy.

Charlie Wardle

Age: 20

Height: 177 cm

A young man from the city, who just entered the work life. Before that, Charlie was partying all the time and was very popular. He has an easy-going and fun-loving personality and loves making others laugh. Unfortunately he has the bad habits of being careless, easily distracted and often doesn't treat things serious enough. The younger ones like Thomas, Percy, Rebecca and Paxton see in him a good friend and fun to hang out with while on the other hand most older adults like Gordon, Henry and Cranky find him, annoying, unfunny and view him as a general nuiscence.

After Charlie got into a lot of trouble due to his carelessness, Edward took him in as his apprentice because he saw how Charlie felt genuine regret for what he did. Charlie feels a lot of gratitude towards him and started endearlingly calling him "Eddie".

Trevor Foster

Age: 63

Height: 171 cm

The principal of the school Thomas, Percy, Rosie and Philip attend. He his very good-hearted and likes children, he wants nothing but the best for them. Trevor is usually polite and peaceful but he will take any measures to make sure everyone, who hurts a child will be punished.

Outside of school, he helps out at the local church by taking care of its orchard. He owns a steam tractor in which he often gives rides with. Trevor is also good friends with Terence and Bertie. The three organized a big party once to earn enough money so children could go to the beach during summer vacation. He also became a close friend of Edward after the latter brought him to the hospital when he collaped once. Even since then Trevor looks after Thomas in school for Edward.

Terence Crawler

Age: 33

Height: 190 cm

A local farmer, who owns a caterpiller tractor. He usually uses it for ploughing but on request he can fulfill other jobs. Similar to Bertie with his bus, Terence has a strong atattchment to his tractor as he was willing to do anything to save it from falling into a lake when ice under it cracked. He is assertive, helpful and always eager to do a job. He has the saying: "You have to be sensible if you want to stay safe." and he easily forgives other for getting cheeky with him. Despite being very friendly and good-natured, a few people such as James find him quite unsetteling because he always has"that smile"...

Kenji Shima

Age: 17

Height: 169 cm

A high school student from Japan, who took in an internship with an inventor during summer vacation. He accompanied his superior to a science fair on Sodor and was helping out with presentations. When members of a smuggling ring failed to steal secret and valuable blueprints, they held Kenji hostage to get away but he was saved by Sonny, who betrayed the ring.

Kenji is from a family of scientists and his parents have high expectations for him to become their sucessor but there is one severe problem: Kenji struggles with technology. Regardless, he studies hard to learn and adapt skills and knowledge. Kenji is determined, organized and clever but also a bit anxious as he hates being alone and he fears dissapointing his family if he doesn't become scenentist like them.

[katy-133]

Some Ace Headcanons and Tropes

Happy June, I made this post for discussing characters who I headcanon as ace, as well as discussing some tropes related to ace coding.

Ace, or asexuality, is when a person feels little to no sexual attraction towards others. This is separate from being aromantic, which is feeling a lack of romantic attraction (though an asexual person can also be aromantic, not all ace people are).

For some of the characters I've listed below, I'll specify as romantic ace (aka, aceallo), someone who feels romantic attraction whilst feeling a lack of sexual attraction. Or demiromantic, someone who feels romantic attraction only after forming a deep emotional bond with a person. Others I'll use the ace umbrella word exclusively.

While you can headcanon characters that fly in the face of canon, I like my ace headcanons to be canon-friendly. Meaning, if the story were to ever confirm that the character is ace, it would not contradict previous characterisation.

Bertie Wooster from Jeeves & Wooster as romantic ace:

The entire book series (and tv adaptation) is about Bertie trying to find ways of getting out of arranged marriages and accidental engagements with various women. These woman are canonically stated to be beautiful--sometimes by Bertie himself. Therefore, Bertie doesn't want to marry them because he finds their looks off-putting, he doesn't want to be with them for another reason. So the plot can be read as an ace story (it is a common experience for ace people to feel pressured by their family to marry someone). Bertie can be read as specifically romantic ace. He's fallen in love (with Miss Wickham and Pauline Stoker). In the books, there's this running motif of Bertie (who narrates the stories) describing his butler-valet, Jeeves, in a way that a person would typically describe their love interest or spouse, with Bertie sometimes making the comparison himself. This has led to interpretations of Bertie being in love with Jeeves.

Crowley from Good Omens as romantic ace:

Is a demon who falls in love with an angel and proceeds to pine for him for 6000 years (which I'm sure is some sort of slow burn world record). There's this trope that demon characters will aggressively flirt and try to seduce another character (the trope's origin stemming from the idea that evil and corruption is seductive in some way, as well as links with the succubus in folklore), which Crowley markedly subverts. Also, take Lucifer in the titular Fox/Netflix series (also based on a work linked with writer Neil Gaiman) and compare him with Crowley in that aspect--Lucifer acts more allosexual and is canonically in multiple sexual relationships. Fiction isn't created in a bubble, so this trope's context helps to code Crowley as ace, as he's subverting a trope (human-looking demons) linked with allosexuality ("demons are seductive"--though ace people can also flirt, in fiction it's often used as a shorthand for allosexuality).

Tintin from The Adventures of Tintin:

Is never given a love interest in the canon, nor shows interest in pursuing it, despite the series being 24 albums and the other protagonists of the "globetrotting adventurer" genre often have love interests (James Bond, Uncharted, Indiana Jones). Similar to Crowley, above, Tintin is subverting a staple aspect of the genre he exists in.

Sniper (Mick Mundy) from Team Fortress 2 as romantic ace:

Sniper never shows attraction towards a woman in any part of TF2's canon (which is particularly notable to me compared to some of the other mercs, who do). We see that Sniper's closest loved ones are his parents; he has no wife or girlfriend (the Administrator only threatens his parents also in the comics). While Sniper's backstory is a direct homage to Superman and is about him being adopted from outside his place of birth, his backstory can also be read as queer coded (he didn't fit in with his peers and he felt like there was something that made him different from them). Sniper is considered to not be attractive by typical Australian standards (in TF2's universe, Australians have superhuman strength and grow moustaches, due to a fictional element called Australium), so Sniper may have never had a relationship while living in Australia, but wanted to. His design and character based on Crocodile Dundee (the lead in a romantic comedy film), but despite that association (and repeated references to it), Sniper has no love interest.

Nick Valentine from Fallout 4 as romantic ace:

He's a robot detective (in the Fallout universe, he's not actually a robot, but a "synth," or synthetic man, but in terms of his character archetype, he falls under the robot archetype. Unlike other companions in the game, you can't be physically intimate with him to gain stat boosts. He has a deceased fiance whom he remembers fondly, and whenever he talks about her, he doesn't allude to sexual attraction, allowing the player to read his love for her as exclusively romantic. Robot characters being ace coded is an old trope with negative associations (such as ace people being viewed as "cold, robotic, and/or emotionless"), but Nick Valentine (being a companion character who gets his own backstory and inner conflict) ends up feeling more human than other characters in the story, subverting the trope. Nick Valentine's symbol is a heart. A neon heart is on his detective agency sign, which you see before you even meet him, a reference to his surname (Valentine = heart). The ace of hearts is an ace symbol for romantic aces (with other card suits representing other aces). Though I would guess naming him Valentine was done to reference different noir detectives (whom Nick is inspired by) being named after card suits (Sam Spade, Nick Diamond), the ace association is still there for viewers.

Reigen Arataka from Mob Psycho 100 as romantic ace:

When Mob asks Reigen for advice on confessing to a crush (season 3 in the anime), Reigen cheats by reading advice he found online. His colleague Serizawa notices this and notes that Reigen is inexperienced with relationships. Later on in the conversation, Reigen tells Serizawa that he thinks he'd be rejected if a woman got to know him for who he really is. He's referring to being a con artist, but the scene can also feel ace coded if you read it as Reigen being worried that a girlfriend would dump him if they found out that he was asexual. Earlier in the story, Reigen has a conversation with the spirit Dimple about a spirit stalking a woman. Dimple says, "It's pretty uncommon for spirits to have any sexual desire. We couldn't reproduce if we wanted to." Reigen replies, "Is sexual desire always a part of love, though? I-I really don't want to talk about this with you." Meaning that Reigen separates romantic attraction from sexual attraction.

Dexter Morgan from Dexter as demiromantic ace:

Does not show sexual attraction in the books, as well as the first season of the show (but does show sexual attraction in later seasons that deviate from the books, but we don't talk about those seasons). He describes himself as not being interested in sex. As he puts it, "For me, sex never enters into it. I don't understand sex. Not that I have anything against women, and I certainly have an appropriate sensibility about men, but when it comes to the actual act of sex, it's always just seems so undignified."). Again, similar to robot characters, killers being coded as ace is an old trope with negative connotations. It equates sexual attraction with humanity, empathy, and good moral alignment--implying that asexual people are in some way inhuman or cold. While he's still an antihero or villain protagonist, Dexter in a way subverts this idea, as he only targets other killers, and as the story progresses, he learns more about humanity and it becomes clear to the reader that he's not as inhuman as he describes himself. Dexter also has a girlfriend, Rita, and they're in a celibate relationship due to her past trauma with her ex husband. This leads to conflict in their relationship when Rita later starts questing if they should remove the celibate part of their relationship and Dexter tries to find ways to keep it. Dexter agrees to being her boyfriend at first to help "blend in" as a normal human, but ultimately proves to genuinely care about Rita as a girlfriend. The dramatic irony of him being ace coded and living in Miami, Florida was also a great choice ("Every night in Miami is date night," as Dexter puts it). It leads to Dexter constantly bombarded with his allo colleagues talking about their relationship problems and him awkwardly trying to pretend to relate to it. This can be read as queer coded, as Dexter is trying to fit in while feeling like there's something about him that makes him different from those around him.

Sherlock Holmes:

Film (and to a lesser extent, television) adaptations of Sherlock Holmes have a habit of making the character Irene Addler as Sherlock's love interest. She is not this in the original books, she is known as "the woman" because she taught Sherlock the important lesson of not underestimating someone because of their gender. Sherlock shows no romantic interest in women in the books, with his strongest bond being with Watson. Watson, the narrator, frames it as Sherlock being married to his (Sherlock's) work, which is a trope that invites ace interpretations (read as: It's not just "the work" that keeps them from pursuing sexual relationships--it's their orientation that led to them pursing "the work," reversing the framing). Similar to the "cold killer" character type talked about with Dexter, the "married to their work" trope can have negative inference that the character is cold or unfeeling by valuing their work over their interpersonal relationships. Though in the Sherlock Holmes books, Sherlock is shown to care about Watson as well as show compassion to other characters, including the culprits of some of the storys' mysteries.

Tropes are patterns in storytelling. They're tools, and can be subverted and altered in different ways. They have a history, and learning about their origins and their purpose in a story can help inform you as a storyteller.

In conclusion:

"Aces!" -Sniper

[legends-of-time]

The Journey of Living at Downton

Chapter 48: July 1925

Masterlist

A/N: Again the dates. So the Brooklands race is said to happen on the 9th and Daisy's exams on the 20th and then both events happen on the same day? I decided to go with the 9th partly because it gives more of a gap between this chapter and the next one.

——

A month after the house opening, Cora has settled in well at the Hospital as the new president as they continue with the merger. Emma wishes she could be a part of it more but she can't just walk down to the Village anymore for a quick visit and bringing out the car would just be an inconvenience for everyone.

They are having tea in the Library. Robert is in an armchair, Cora, Emma and Edith are on the red settees while Tom stands nearby. Mary is in a chair close to Robert.

"We'd stay with Rosamund, drive to the track, have lunch, see some racing and come home the following day." Robert argues. "Billy's even agreed to take a few days off work to join us."

Ever since they'd received the invitation from Henry Talbot to come to the races next week that morning, Robert has been desperate to go despite still convalescing.

"It's so unnecessary in your state. And what about Emma?" Cora retorts.

A heavily pregnant Emma pouts at her words. "I'm not an invalid. Plus, if anything happens, we're near London where I can receive the best medical care."

"If Emma says she can, she can. And I'm not in a "state". Unless it's a state of boredom." Robert grumbles causing Emma to chuckle at that. "Please let me."

"It's not my decision." Cora counters.

"If you mean that, then we're going." Robert says gleefully.

"Are you sure about coming?" Cora asks Emma.

"I'll be fine." Emma retorts. "It's only up to London, it's not liking I'm racing or traipsing the highlands like Mary did when she was pregnant with George." She gives a pointed glance to Mary who rolls her eyes but says nothing.

"Tom, what do you say?"

"Nothing if he knows what's good for him." Emma answers before he can. She turns her pointed gaze to Tom, who simply smiles softly at her. Good.

"Edith?" Tom asks, turning away from Emma's gaze.

"Oh, I'm in if Bertie's coming."

Emma smiles approvingly.

"It's a long way for him." Robert comments.

Emma side-eyes him. Please don't ruin this!

"Maybe there's something else for him to do in London." Edith replies breezily.

"Isn't it enough that it's a chance to see you?" Mary asks almost snidely.

"Would it annoy you if it were?" Edith quips. She gives Mary a challenging look over her tea cup.

——

It's next week and they have all left for London and Brooklands for a few days. Before they left, Emma made sure to wish Daisy luck for her exams which will be happening while they're at the race. Mr Molesley as well for his own exam.

That evening, Rosamund hosts dinner for them all – Mary, Emma, Tom, Cora, Billy, Edith and Robert – with her at the head of the table.

"Looking round the table, I wonder if we ought to have opened Grantham House. I feel rather guilty." Robert remarks.

"Oh, don't. I know what a palaver it is." Rosamund dismisses her brother's words.

"More so, now there's no real staff." Robert grumbles.

"Almost everyone we know is selling their London house. But I suppose that's not for me to say." Cora says.

"I went past the site of Devonshire House on my way home. There's something vast going up in its place." Edith tells them.

A footman steps out when the doorbell suddenly rings. Emma watches after him curiously.

"Flats and offices and salerooms." Rosamund explains.

"People don't want vast palaces any more, even if they can afford them." Tom points out.

Emma nods in agreement. "Exactly, the London house isn't used often enough. We keep using Rosamund as a hotel anyway when any of us stay in London."

"They were fun, though. In my youth, all the great hostesses used to have luncheon laid for twenty every day. And if you turned up in time, you just sat down to a lovely feed." Robert says dreamily.

All chuckle. A footman opens the door and Henry Talbot walks in unexpectedly. Emma glances over to see that Mary's reaction is one of shock.

"I'm so sorry, Lady Rosamund, I thought dinner would be finished." Henry apologises.

"And so it should be. We'll go through." Rosamund rises causing the rest of them to do the same. "Unless the boys prefer to stay and talk racing cars."

"I think I'd rather join the ladies."

"Like Lord Byron?" Robert remarks.

Henry chuckles. All the guests move towards the door. Henry shakes Tom and Billy's hands when they come face to face.

"Well done for rounding them all up. I'm very grateful." Henry says to them.

"Don't be. I'm as keen as you are." Tom says.

"While I'm ever more curious." Billy adds.

"Ah, should've known you two had a hand in this." Emma remarks with a grin.

"I hope you do not disapprove, Emma." Henry says, shaking her hand.

"I suppose not. Good to see you again, Henry." Emma leaves the room along with Billy and Tom, leaving Mary and Henry alone.

——

The first thing Emma notices about the racetrack is how strikingly different it is from early 21st century ones. Maybe it's the lack of advertisements everywhere as well as the lack of barriers between the crowds and the actual track, which makes Emma rather glad they'll be in a higher stand away from it and don't get her started on how unsafe these old cars look.

What Emma is very much enjoying is seeing her husband in his element, particularly when she watches him, in his shirtsleeves doing some last minute fiddling with the engine of Henry's car, who's in a white coverall.

When moving to the canopy, which seems to be the VIP section for the spectators, they come across Edith standing with an unknown woman.

"Who's this?" Emma questions with a warm smile, already clocking that this woman seems a bit anxious.

"Laura Edmunds, my editor." Edith introduces. "Laura, this is Emma Branson, her husband Tom Branson, and the man of the hour, Mr Henry Talbot."

"Nice to meet you." Laura says, shaking hands with them all.

Under a canopy, they meet Robert, Cora, Billy and Mary.

Edith continues with her introductions, "My sister Mary. Billy Prior, my brother-in-law. And these are my parents. You can sort them out in your own time."

"Nice to meet you at last." Robert says warmly. He's clearly got used to the whole idea of her.

"Lord Grantham, Lady Grantham." Laura greets respectively.

Charlie Rogers, also in a coverall, has walked up to them, too, so Edith introduces him as well. "This is Charlie Rogers. He drives on Henry's team."

"Henry's team, is it? When I beat him into a cocked hat every time?" Charlie remarks in fake aghast.

"Oh, he's just showing off." Henry rebuffs cheekily. "I'm faster, I'm younger and better."

"But not at driving." Charlie quips back causing everyone to chuckle.

"I wish there was something more I could do to be useful." Tom says eagerly.

"Oh, just cheer, Tom." Henry says.

"He doesn't have to be asked," Billy says with a laugh. Tom rolls his eyes with a grin.

Edith leaves to find Bertie and Mary and Henry move to the small buffet that's been set up, watched over by Miss Baxter, Anna and Mr Bates while Rosamund joins Emma, Tom, Robert, Cora and Billy in the group surrounding Laura Edmunds

"Is it hard to be a woman editor? Fleet Street sounds so very tough." Rosamund questions.

Emma finds it all really that they keep using the prefix 'woman' when talking about Laura Edmunds' job though she supposes she can let them off as it's still very new to them.

"It's hard to be a woman anything if it isn't domestic. But I do my best." Laura smartly answers as Edith and Bertie arrive. Bertie doffs his hat to the assembled group.

Emma grins. "Now that's the spirit."

"I think it's courageous and good." Robert agrees.

"Heavens!" Cora gasps almost mockingly. "Papa's conversion to the modern world is almost complete!"

"Don't be deceived. He'd still like to see us happy wives and mothers, admit it." Edith quips.

"That's not fair. Even leopards can change some of their spots."

"Quite. Now, there's still some food." Robert gestures at the buffet.

Tom guides Emma towards it along with everyone else. Emma can't help but notice that Laura walks side by side with Billy, the two conversing quietly. Interesting…

——

Once Emma has had her food as well as talked with those at the table briefly, the call comes through for the drivers to take their places so everyone moves to their spots to watch the race.

Now the nerves are beginning to hit Emma as the racing cars stand ready, the crowd cheers and claps. It's now hitting her that there's a severe lack of safety around this.

The drivers walk to their cars wearing extremely fetching pieces of headgear (note the sarcasm) and gloves and a Commentator speaks to the crowd. They get into position, outside their cars on the edge of the racetrack – getting into their cars and getting started quickly is part of the race.

"Now, any moment, the flag will fall and the race will begin." The Commentator announces.

The drivers put on their goggles, which makes them all look infinitely more fetching than before. A silence falls, and everyone looks up with bated breath for the starting signal. The flag comes, and the drivers race to their cars as the audience cheers. They jump in, start the engines and drive off.

"Just listen to the roar of those engines, ladies and gentlemen. And they're off. There they go, tearing down the straight and jostling for first position…"

The words of the Commentator become indistinguishable over the roar of the engines and the noise of the audience. Next to her Tom, Edith, Bertie, Billy, Robert and Laura applaud cheerfully in the front row of the spectator stands as the cars as they race around the track. Mary stays silent as her eyes are glued to the cars while Emma anxiously holds onto the railing. Cora and Rosamund watch on as well.

"Here they come!" Robert cries as the cars come back round once more. Henry approaches in his car. He's by no means in the leading position. "Come on, Talbot!"

"I don't think you can shout that. Isn't Talbot the name of a car?" Rosamund questions.

"I can't shout 'Come on, Henry!' They might all be called Henry!"

"Oh, my God, here they are." Mary observes anxiously.

Emma grimaces as they zoom past.

"When will it be over?" Cora asks.

"Not for a while." Mary replies. "They just go round and round."

"Come on! God bless you! Come on!" Tom shouts enthusiastically.

"What's the point? What do they get out of it?" Mary questions in disbelief.

"What do you think? Speed!" Tom says happily.

"The race is going to hot up now because the lead car, car No.6, driven by Sir Patrick Axford, has withdrawn with what looks like radiator trouble. Oh, dear. It looks like Sir Patrick has blown a gasket too!" The Commentator says, drawing attention to the driver on the side of the track who is gesticulating his frustration next to a car whose bonnet has smoke rising from it.

Henry and Charlie are getting very close to each other now. Charlie, in car No. 10, is further ahead than Henry, but Henry is catching up.

"Here they come again!" Billy cries.

"My God, but don't you envy them?" Tom remarks gleefully. Emma looks at her husband in disbelief.

"No, I don't!" Edith shakes her head with a laugh.

"Nor me." Bertie agrees. "Clearly we're going to have to keep an eye on Tom."

"Please tell me you're not getting any ideas." Emma pleads. "I'm anxious enough without you actually racing."

Tom huffs reluctantly.

"There is something gallant and daring in it, even I can see that!" Robert enthuses.

Christ.

——

The race continues. Emma's eyes are focused on the cars as the Commentator's words screech through the speakers. Henry Talbot and Charlie Rogers are now both in the lead, battling for first place. Eventually, Charlie comes out front just as they pass the stands. Next to Emma and Tom, Mary turns away, unable to watch this any longer.

Emma gives her a sympathetic look knowing all sorts must be going through her mind. "Don't worry, it shouldn't be long now."

Mary lets out a shaky huff. "Really? It feels as if we're trapped in some witch's curse for all eternity."

Suddenly, there's a noise of tyres screeching and cars crashing causing everyone to turn around in alarm. Smoke rises from somewhere a little further on from the spectator stands.

"Oh, my God! This is terrible. This is awful!" The Commentator cries as Emma stares at the distant smoke in disbelief and quickly grabs Mary's hand as the look on the woman's face reminds her too much of the day Matthew died.

Tom turns to Emma and Mary, suddenly dead serious. "Stay here. Bertie, Billy, come with me."

The two men nod and all three of them hurry off while the rest of the crowd gasps and shrieks in horror.

"No, it's no good. I can't stay." Mary declares, wrenching her hand from Emma's and runs after the three men.

After a shared look between them, Edith follows, passing Emma who stays where she is, knowing she'll be no help in her state despite wishing to do something. Robert tries too, but Cora holds him back. Emma grasps her stomach as she watches them go, the kick she receives from her baby is her only comfort.

——

Charlie Rogers had been the one to crash. His car had gone up in flames and it was too unsafe and too late for anyone to help him. His car had gone off the track and into the woods. The car had overturned and caught fire. The most heartbreaking moment was when Emma spotted Henry after the ambulance had taken Charlie away. The man's appearance was blackened by smoke and he looked like his whole world had collapsed around. Emma supposed it had after watching his best friend die so horrifically.

Dinner, even with the added guests of Bertie and Laura Edmunds, is a very subdued affair.

"I assume that none of us are going to eat anything else." Rosamund says softly.

"One talks of risk and danger, and it sounds like fun. But of course, the reality behind it is sudden death." Laura says shakily.

"Sudden, stupid, wasteful death." Mary agrees sounding close to tears.

"It was a bloody awful business. A bloody, bloody awful business." Robert says, deeply shaken.

"The English language never lets you down." Rosamund remarks in a rather censorious tone.

Emma can't help but shoot her a glare at that statement. "Oh, do shut up." She spits angrily. Tom reaches down and grasps her hand tightly.

Rosamund looks at her in surprise but remains calm as she turns to the rest of the group. "Shall we go through?"

"You're going to bed." Cora says to Robert pointedly. Her husband doesn't argue as they both rise.

"Me, too. The rest of you can talk into the small hours." Rosamund adds.

"Emma?" Tom prompts, standing up.

Emma lets out a heavy sigh before nodding, taking her husband's offered hand. "Yeah, yeah, I'm going up."

In the background, the telephone can be heard ringing in the Hall. Billy quietly goes to take it.

"Should I say goodbye?" Bertie asks Edith.

"Not yet. Come into the Drawing room for a drink." She replies. The two move away.

Mary remains sitting at the table in a daze. Billy comes back in as Tom and Emma reach the entrance to the Dining room.

"Henry's on the telephone." Billy tells her.

"Tell him to ring tomorrow." Mary responds.

"Mary," Emma says softly, drawing her attention, "you can't leave him waiting on a night like this."

Mary reluctantly nods and follows Emma and Tom out of the Dining room and into the Hall.

Emma can't hear what's being said between them over the telephone as she walks up the stairs but she does hear Mary hang up and begin to sob. She looks over the railing to see Billy wrap her in his arms for a moment before Mary pulls herself away and begins to walk up the stairs. Tom and Emma share a sombre look and move on to their room.

——

They don't linger in London for longer than they need to and return to Downton swiftly. Thomas, Andy and Albert are seeing to the luggage while Mr Carson moves to greet them.

As Tom assists Emma out of the car while Mr Molesley holds open the door, she overhears Mr Carson inform Cora and Robert that Isobel is waiting for them in the Library and has been for some time along with the fact that Mr Spratt, Violet's butler, has been calling to find out when they'll be back from London. Odd.

She joins the curious crowd of Tom, Billy, Mary and Edith as they follow Cora and Robert through the Hall and into the Library where Isobel is waiting and looking rather tense. She gets up from one of the red settees to greet them.

"Isobel, I hope we haven't kept you waiting for hours." Robert greets.

"Not at all, it's entirely my fault. I got here far too early." Isobel reassures. "How was it?"

"Dreadful." Emma replies simply, taking a seat on the settee. More like slumping into it really. She winces as she feels a slight cramp in her lower abdomen.

"But let's not go into that now." Cora declares.

"Oh, I am sorry." Isobel says apologetically. "And, to be quite honest, I feel rather awkward."

"Why, what is it?" Mary asks. Her tone still sounds despondent as it has ever since she had broken up with Henry over the phone.

"I have a letter from Cousin Violet." Isobel approaches Robert and hands it over.

Robert looks baffled but takes it. "Why didn't she bring it herself?"

"Because she's gone away."

Wait, what?

"Gone away? Where?" Edith questions.

"She's on board the 'Paris', headed for the Mediterranean."

"I wouldn't have thought abroad was her preferred destination." Billy quips.

"This is me, isn't it? I've done it. She's furious with me." Cora realises.

"I don't see the point of bringing any of that up now." Isobel replies.

"What does her letter say?" Emma asks Robert.

The man looks up from the letter he's been reading. "Nothing much. She needs a change of air, and Spratt is bringing a present by way of goodbye. That's why he rang."

Mr Carson enters. "Mr Spratt has arrived, My Lord."

"Oh, show him in." Robert says.

Mr Carson hesitates. "Well, that is, he's in the Servants' Hall with a present for Your Lordship, and he doesn't want to bring it up here."

"What's going on?" Robert asks the room.

"He may be right, My Lord."

"Let's go and see what it is." Tom placates.

Robert is unconvinced and grumbles, "If you wish, but it all seems very rum to me." He leads them out of the room.

——

They all come down the stairs and meet Mrs Hughes just outside the Servants' Hall.

"What is it? What's the surprise?" Robert immediately questions her.

Mrs Hughes smiles. "You'll soon see, M'lord, but I think it's a good one."

Mr Spratt appears in the doorway of the Servants' Hall. "Good day, M'lord."

"Spratt, what is this great secret you're about to reveal?" Robert asks impatiently.

"Her Ladyship chose her herself, M'lord. Er, she was most particular."

Mr Spratt leads the way into the Servants' Hall, where they are all gathered around something on the table. They move aside to reveal an unspeakably adorable Labrador puppy in a basket on the table.

Robert's eyes bulge with delight at the sight of her. "Oh! Hello, little one! Oh!" He lifts the puppy into his arms with a happy laugh, in which everyone joins. Cora and Edith, who are closest, start caressing the little dog. "Now, what are we going to call you, eh? Oh, I know, Teo."

Emma grins and steps forward to have her turn at giving the puppy her own scratch behind the ears.

"I thought we always had names from ancient Egypt." Edith points out.

Robert outright huffs in disappointment like a child at his daughter. "Teo was a wife of Amenhotep II and the mother of Thutmosis IV. Don't you know anything?"

Edith huffs amusedly at her father's remark while Teo starts happily licking Robert's face.

"She's not exactly trained yet, M'lord, so we decided against bringing her up to the Library." Mr Spratt says.

"Oh, I don't care about that." Robert dismisses. "You're coming upstairs with me!"

Of course he says that, he's the one who won't have to clean up after her mess.

Robert kisses Teo right back and starts carrying her out of the room, presenting her gleefully to Tom and Billy. "Billy, Tom, what about this, eh?"

The two men offer their compliments as they all gather in a circle as they welcome the new addition.

And it's at that moment Emma feels another cramp in her stomach and a trickle of water leaving her.

"Uh, Tom…" Her voice trembles as she speaks.

Her husband snaps his head towards her as everyone else quietens. They all look at her dampening skirt.

Oh, Lord…

——

A/N: And onto baby number 3!

Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

Info dump:

Brooklands: A 2.75-mile (4.43 km) motor racing circuit near Weybridge in Surrey, in operation from 1907 - 1939 and the first of its kind. Now a motoring museum.

Fleet Street in the City of London has been the hub of Britain's publishing trade basically since printing was even invented. Being home to many newspapers and other publishing houses, it's still a common metonym for the British national press.

[sweetfirebird]

Multifandom fic recs!

I mentioned doing a fic recs list the other day, and since I couldn't work on my needlepoint for a while (in which I feel like Mr. Thorton's mother doing her linen embroidering in North & South), I actually did one.

This is a multifandom recs list because it was more fun to just skim through various fandom bookmarks than to do a concentrated list for one show or whatever. Also.. some of these are for fandoms I read in and some are just fics I stumbled across one day, so they could be representative of their fandoms or not I have no idea. {insert shrug emoji here}

These are also all m/m and I think.... fairly cis? I did consider doing some f/f and trans and Rules 63 stuff but uh my bookmarks are a mess. The only fandom where I set aside some genderfuckery aside in any sort of organized fashion is Les Mis with Rule 63 stuff which maybe should get its own post. ? If people wanted?

Anyway, read the tags for each story, etc

Recs across the starboard bow, captain!

Star Wars Rogue One

waaay before the movie. I've recced this before. Chirrut/Baze

A Monk in Good Standing (Must Be in Need of a Bro)

The Eagle

Marcus/Esca

What Big Hands You Have

modern au, Esca is a size queen

From the Depths of His Heart

Canon-era werewolf AU

Póga

Canon-era  Esca teaches Marcus to kiss slow

Devotee

Canon-era gay farmers with some yearning

The Losers

Jensen/Cougar

The First Eight Don't Count

Jensen is a cat sometimes. Like a house cat. Yeah it’s weird for him too.

By Daybreak We'll Be Gone

werewolf AU (sensing a recurring trope here lol)

Inception

(Obv Arthur/Eames.)

Breaking and Entering

Jeeves and Wooster

Misplaced

Bertie has lost something

Voltron (the… whatever the new cartoon’s subtitle was. Legendary Defender?)

(I know that fandom is a hotbed of strife) but I am not/was not involved in any of that. Yikes.)

the electric synthesized pop ballad of why keith can’t have nice things

a/b/o au... but like... he just wants to be good

The Vorkosigan Saga

This is Ivan/Byerly because that is the only ship that matters

Twenty-Year Man

Ivan's getting older and having some realizations despite himself. Also... side note but... carefully and cynically yearning Byerly is a delight.

Original, historical

Darling and the Cinderella Club

Teen Wolf --HOWEVER! These are all Teen Wolf/SGA fusion

Why? Because the space marine vibes are impeccable

All Sterek

Show You What All That Howl is For

The Ring of the Ancestors is Not a Euphemism

Faint is a Medical Term

What We Do in the Shadows

Something Here Will Eventually Have to Explode

Guillermo/Nandor

Venom

Venom/Eddie, obviously

Heartthrob

Good Omens

Good Old-fashioned Lover Boy

Get Religion Quick (cause you're looking divine)

The Hobbit

all Bilbo/Thorin

Rations

pre-adventure sexual tension

The Subways of Men

modern au, but still with hobbits and dwarves

okay and then because idk I just love them finding each other after things

Plant Your Trees

It's Been a Long Day Without You, My Friend

(slight au)

And then one just to be sad

Hold Onto Hope If You've Got It

Les Mis

Enjolras/Grantaire because I am basic aw yeah

The Laurels of Doing is Enough

modern AU

True Love's Kiss

modern AU but with magic

Adequate

The first in a small Star Trek AU series that is cute

A Reversal of Celestial Mechanics

Canon-era, Enjolras takes Grantaire up on his offers… offers Grantaire didn’t realize he was making lol

There is one where Grantaire is fucking Courf while they both discuss/hint at his feelings for Enjolras but I cannot begin to express the chaos of my bookmarks so.... couldn't find it.

And finally...

Check, Please

Dex/Nursey

Bless This Mess and Call It a Home

Magic AU

The Most Room in Our Hearts

Dex sees Nursey holding some kids and gets Feelings about it

(there is a small nurseydex commentfic with sort of a similar bent but like so many things, it was posted to tumblr then deleted so is now lost forever.)

ok this one is uhhh read the notes and tags. It is known to me and @vashti-lives as the one we don’t talk about  aka the 1950s coal miners AU

Strange Lovers

And to finish up, a Ransom/Holster kink/getting together fic that was actually the first thing I read for this fandom.

When You Got Skin in the Game (you stay in the game)

I will post this to pillowfort too but I need to stop and eat first.

[brassandblue]

" i want you to prove me wrong. " [ Ur pick of muses ]

I want you to prove me wrong, Daniel had said. He said he felt he was unwelcome at the King's funeral, despite having been one of Bertie's friends. The thought took what little bits of Arthur's heart that remained and stomped them like a bootheel crushing glass back into sand.

It had barely been two days since they'd put Bertie in the ground, and Arthur's strength had given out mere hours following the service--he sat weakly in a wheelchair with Jack hovering nearby and a nurse doing most of the tending. (Jack had at least seen to ushering the nurse out of the room to give Daniel and Arthur a bit of privacy when the conversation had turned... terse.)

All Arthur could do, for the moment, was mournfully shake his head. His heart had been so wrapped up for nearly two hundred years, now. What on Earth was he supposed to say? How could he put to words what he felt would be painfully unrequited, rebuked, scorned?

But the demand to prove him wrong appealed to a primal part of Arthur, the center of him that fought and rebelled and reared its head in defiance of anything and everything; the bit inside him that was once a roaring flame, but now smoldered, exactly as used up as the rest of him was. It flickered in his chest painfully, and Arthur could not meet Daniel's eyes.

He was tired, so dreadfully tired, and he knew how thin and pathetic he looked, even dressed properly as he was. It was humiliating, especially to sit in front of Daniel--him, of all people! And that was to say nothing of the other Americans, Amelia, Alfred, Bradley, and the rest--all healthy and strong. Much as Arthur knew he deserved this, he still wanted to lash out at them and spit the bitter vitriol that sat like acid on his tongue. But he couldn't. And he knew Bertie wouldn't approve, and if there was one more thing Arthur could do for him, it was to honor his memory.

"You want me to prove you wrong?" Arthur asked shakily, rhetorically, doing little to mask the trembling, bitter exhaustion in his voice. "I can't. You'll just have to go on my bloody word, for-- for whatever that's worth. You're-- you're welcome here. You always have been, Daniel. There's never been a time you weren't. Welcome. Here."

Arthur swallowed thickly and took a breath to continue. He still couldn't look at him.

"I-I-- I l-loved-- I love you, I always have," he managed to get the words past his lips and they tumbled out of him, crashing past the bitterness and into the air to linger haphazardly between them as Arthur gripped the armrests of his chair.

"I never stopped-- I... I don't understand why you did, I never understood that. Maybe... you were unwelcome here sometimes--I mean, in-- in the way that it hurt to be near you, because I never knew what I'd done wrong; or maybe it was just the universe telling me--like it always had--I'm a bloody curse on the people I love--" Arthur shuddered and took another breath, his voice heavy and trembling with emotion.

"--S-so, there's your bloody proof, for whatever that's worth," he huffed, and began wiping at the hot stinging tears at the corners of his already tear-stricken eyes.

[tadokorochann]

NAUGHTY

a Bertholdt x Reader shower sex drabble, born from a convo between me and @erwnsmith who is a BADDIE and you should all check her out

word count: 1629

genre/warnings: pure filth, female reader, shower sex, thigh-fucking, submissive berthoidt, a bit of sub/dom dynamics (bert isn’t allowed to touch himself without asking but, he may have been naughty)

a/n: this is the first time ive written anything more than 200 words in like 5 years, and it’s definitely my first time posting it to tumblr, so it might suck, but i hope u like it.   

  “Mmmph… hah…” The noises Bertholdt makes as you shove your tongue into his mouth send shivers straight down to your core, tingling in a way that made you feel even warmer than the droplets of water raining down on you both from the shower head. His hands are slow to find purchase on your sides as you press your body against him. He’s nervous, and he has good reason to be. 

   “I-I’m sorry,” he whines, muffled from the wet kisses you continue to layer on him. You only stop to let out a light chuckle, brushing your hands over his arms, his chest, his abdomen. Watching his muscles tense under your touches and his cheeks redden as he tries his best to look at anything but your naked form.

   “Are you? You know our rule, Bertie,” you coo, in a familiar tone that, despite his best efforts, makes blood rush to his dick. You notice, too, he knows you do, because the predatory grin on your face only grows wider. You lean in again, pressing your lips against the shell of his ear. “You have to ask for my permission if you want to touch yourself. You promised you would, Bertie. So why did I just find your face buried in a pair of my panties, fisting your cock like your life depends on it?”

   He’s too worked up to respond, too hot and too embarrassed to properly articulate to you how the risqué pictures you’d sent him earlier in the day had affected him, or the way he felt seeing your skirt ride up and show off your ass when you’d bent over to pick something off the kitchen floor a few hours later. All day, you’d been doing things —intentionally and not—- that made his blood pump and his palms sweat. His cock had been aching for hours, and he’d tried to follow the rules,  he really had, but when the throbbing between his legs had reached a breaking point, he’d found you asleep, and, not wanting to bother you but unable to wait any longer, he’d swiped a pair of panties from your hamper for their scent and set about giving himself a much-needed release. Evidently, he hadn’t been quiet enough, because the noise was enough for you to wake up and give him a heart attack. You scolded him, and it led to where you were now- pinning him against the shower wall and staring at him like he was your next meal.

   “I, I- I didn’t mean to-“

   “It’s okay, baby. I think I know. You’re such a good boy, you just need to cum, don’t you?” Bertholdt’s cheeks burn at the words, but he nods his head, letting out a soft gasp as your hand finally grasps his cock, head tilting back almost instinctively as you give it a few gentle strokes. He feels like he’s in heaven as you touch him, eyes snapping shut as his hips begin to arch into the movements of your wrist but it doesn’t last long, because you soon stop. You don’t leave him hanging for very long, though, instead shifting your stance and moving to slot his dick between your legs. 

   “Why don’t you fuck my thighs?” You feel his cock twitch in response, and for a few seconds he just stares at you, but it doesn’t take long before his hands are grasping at your waist so he can hold you in place and jerk his hips forward, shuddering at the feeling of your flesh surrounding him. He loves how soft and how warm it is, hugging his cock perfectly as he begins to drive himself in and out, desperate for friction, desperate for release. It already feels so good; he doesn’t know how long he can last like this and he has a feeling that you know that, too. Why else would you be guiding his fingers up, easing them to rub at your swollen clit in the way he knows you like, drawing soft, heavy breaths from your lips like an addictive mantra?

   It’s too much. It feels too good, and the sweet noises you’re making have his balls beginning to tighten, full and ready to release at any second, but somehow it’s not enough, either. With each drag of his cock between your inner thighs, he can feel the slickness of your hot little pussy, wet and pulsing on the top side of his shaft. It’s driving him crazy. He lets out a grunt, snapping his hips forward with more force, loving the way your skin feels around him, but consumed by the temptation of something even better. 

   “What’s wrong, Bertie?” The tone of your voice between heavy, layered breaths sends shivers down his spine, and he’s barely even aware of the moans emanating from his own chest.

   “I, I, can I … inside, please?” He can’t form a coherent sentence, but the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance tells you all you need to know.

   “No.” A pathetic whine escapes Bertholdt’s throat as you take hold of his dick, tears of desperation pricking at the corners of his eyes as you reposition him between your legs.

   “Please, I, I need it, I need it so bad-“

   “If you wanted my pussy that badly, you should have come to me and asked. You’re still in trouble, baby.” You pause, bringing your lips to his ear. “If you’re desperate enough to touch yourself without permission, my thighs should be more than enough to get you off. They’re all you get right now, so if you want to cum, you’d better use them. Otherwise, I’ll step out and make you wait even more.” He can’t handle waiting any longer, so with a frustrated whimper, he begins thrusting his hips again, desperate to find release between the plushness of your thighs. His fingers circle your clit with a renewed vigor, and you smile, pleased with how he’s still tending to you despite his ragged state. 

   You can feel a tightness building in your lower belly, rising steadily from the way he touches you, and the way his cock feels, throbbing between your legs so close to your core as he desperately chases his own release. You relish in the power of the situation- Bertholdt is desperate to please you, desperate for you to forgive him, you could tell him to do anything right now and he’d do it without question so long as you let him cum. That thought alone is enough to coax your release, and you find yourself shivering, thighs trembling as you struggle to stay upright with the pleasure pulsing through you.

   Bertholdt lets out a choked sob as you cum, feeling your pussy convulse above him and your thighs shake, the added friction driving him absolutely wild as he frantically moves even faster, broken whines and needy whimpers falling freely from his throat. He keeps touching you, working you through your orgasm until the pressure on your clit becomes painfully oversensitive, at which point you smack his hand away. He recoils briefly, with a look that almost hurts you, but he soon forgets about it as you open your mouth and begin to praise him.

   “Such a good boy, such a diligent boy, making me cum first even when you’re so needy.” You begin kissing at his neck, one hand moving to pull at his hair almost painfully, but not quite, an act that makes his muscles tense and his balls ache. He’s painfully hard now, no- scratch that. He’s been painfully hard this whole time, having been on the edge for what feels like hours. He can hardly believe what he babbled about to you before; as if the velvety skin of your thighs wasn’t good enough, because right now it feels so fucking good he can’t hold it in anymore. 

   “M’gonna  - ‘mgonna-“ he can’t even finish warning you because one more thrust has him coating your inner thighs with rope after rope of hot, sticky cum, a strangled cry of relief coming from his throat as he finally gets the release that’s been building him all day. His hips jerk wildly as he rides it out, nearly losing his footing in the process. Thankfully he catches himself, hands coming to rest on your hips as he lets out several long pants, his face red and flushed.

   “T-thank you.” 

   “Of course, Bertie.” You press a tender kiss to his lips, giving him some time to catch his breath and let the water wash away the evidence of your activities together. A few moments later, you realize he's still staring at you, making you tilt your head in curiosity.

   “Something wrong?”

   Bertholdt quickly raises his hands in defense.

   “N-No, nothing is wrong! Nothing at all! I-it’s that you’re beautiful…. and I love you.”

   You feel your heart pound in your chest, your face flushing slightly.

   “I love you too.” A couple seconds later, you speak up again. “Let me know if I’m ever too hard on you, or I say something you don’t like, okay? I won’t ever get mad at you for letting me know you’re uncomfortable.��  Bertholdt nods in response, smiling, so you place a final peck on his cheek before moving to grab a bottle of shampoo. 

   “We should probably start washing up for real before the hot water runs out. Reiner’ll be mad if it’s still cold when he comes home.”

   “Hey, I wasn’t dirty in the first place, you’re the one who dragged me in here!” You chuckle at that and give him a playful grin.

   “Sassy. Are you ready to be in trouble again so soon?” He freezes before shaking his head, muttering to himself before lathering up a handful of soap.

[ripfredweasley]

Dexmas headcanons - missing scenes from DA2

I might actually turn these into a fic series but who knows if I will find the time for all of them so here they are in short.

After Guy went to visit Thomas in the pantry, a nosy Daisy goes in to ask what Mr Dexter wanted (hoping it was something she could assist the Butler with) and finds Thomas still staring into nothing, a confused smile on his lips. Daisy ends up being the first to know.

Lady Mary breaks the news of Thomas leaving to her family. Edith and Bertie are happy for him. Tom worries about how to break the news to Sybbie. And finds that Mary fears the same with George. Robert is mostly worried about the house having no butler and doesn’t really want to think about just why Thomas is leaving the house.

Thomas goes to say goodbye to the kids and despite them being almost too big for it now (and Mary trying to stop them from it), both George and Sybbie demand piggyback rides from Mr Barrow. Thomas explains to a very sad Master George that he is leaving because he found love and not because he wanted to get away from him and the family. And if Master George asks his mother later if Mr Barrow loves Mr Dexter like she loves Mr Talbot then that’s not Thomas’ problem anymore is it.

The staff downstairs being informed by Thomas. Daisy smirking because she knew. Anna being shocked by finally realising just why Mr Dexter never got married (after having read about it) and even more shocked that Thomas got to live with a film star now. Thomas and Phyllis drink to their respective engagements and wishing each other well.

Mrs Hughes putting Carson into his place when he starts to go on about how improper it is for Thomas to give up his job and his loyalty to the family for a life with a movie star.

Andy and Thomas having a small conversation between themselves. Thomas leaving some of his books for Andy to read. Andy promising to write to Thomas in Hollywood and to keep in touch because “I am so grateful for everything you have done for me Mr Barrow. You were a true friend to me all these years even if I haven’t always been the same to you.”

Thomas leaving with the knowledge that he actually has friends now who want to stay in contact with him and the knowledge that people are sad to see him go despite being happy for him. Even Lady Mary asks for him to update them on his life every now and then (for George’s sake obviously) and if Mr Dexter is ever back in England…

[junkshop-disco]

Did you watch the Guy/Thomas scenes? Just wondering if it changed your opinion at all. I can't decide whether to watch them or if it'll upset me :(

I did. Under here for anyone still (somehow) dodging spoilers.

Tbh I quite liked some of the scenes themselves and the actors do a good job with the little they're given (although the colouring makes everyone look like Ross in The One With The Spray Tan Mishap, good luck gif makers). But I am still... sort of confused/uncomfortable about how ambiguously it's pitched? The music is doing a lot of heavy lifting to suggest the storyline is romantic but despite the likability of Guy in the other scenes, if I was at work and someone came into my office, sort of offered me a job and then felt me up, I would punch them. And I can't quite shake that feeling of not knowing what this is supposed to be: romance, work offer, some kind of job with benefits arrangement, or just sexual harassment Thomas is too weary to fight against or sees some kind of opportunity for escape in.

Regardless of what I think of the plot, I would like to be certain what the plot actually is, you know? If it's a romance, have Thomas kiss him and make it clear? If it's not, leave off with the workplace groping unless you're making a point about period-typical workplace groping? That Thomas himself seems confused about the nature of their relationship in the scene with Mary does not help and makes the whole thing come across like one big hedged bet, so if you're hoping for closure by watching the scenes or the film, you're probably not going to get it.

It feels to me like whether you're into this storyline for Thomas or not, you've got to bring a lot to it yourself in order to have it be satisfactory. To be sad for Thomas, you've got to imagine his feelings about leaving Downton and what happened with Richard because they're not really explored. To be pleased for Thomas, you've got to imagine him a future where this pans out somehow: his joy and hope is not on the screen. None of this is new for Thomas or indeed DA generally, of course, but JF has somehow pulled out of the bag a storyline that feels deeply indifferent to Thomas, which imo is the greatest injustice of all whatever your feelings about the content of this film. I can't tell you whether watching the scenes will upset you more or not because I watched them and I'm none the wiser myself.

And not to ramble off, here, but I actually think this touches on a wider problem for me with how JF sees and writes romance as an almost entirely social contract. He repeats the pattern over and over that romantic fulfilment is tied to moving up socially or becoming rich and will deus ex machina things out of his ass to make it happen. See: Edith could've had a perfectly nice romance with Bertie as an agent and continued the writing/editing career she enjoys and provided a counterpoint to Mary's life at Downton, but instead, out of nowhere Bertie is suddenly promoted to one of the most important people in the country despite it being in-verse unlikely and hinging on the death of a person we've never seen onscreen. See also: Molesley has always wanted to make something of himself and finds fulfilment as a teacher but that's not enough for JF, he has to suddenly become a screenwriter before he can be with Baxter, who would've happily married him when he was a delivery boy. There's this sense that meeting a person you love isn't enough: it has to come in a package of being whisked away to something JF considers better and more glamorous and that's nearly always oriented around money and viewed through a deeply classist lens.

Characters who don't follow this pattern tend to get shafted. See: Mary gets a whirlwind romance and a marriage with Henry, overlooking her reservations about his standing, and then he ghosts her on a fairly epic scale for two films and may as well not exist. See: Tom and Sybil marry, live a more ordinary life, and then Sybil dies. The Bateses start with the upgrade package: Bates gets left a house (by his presumably working class mother, but let's just handwave that) and so then they can marry, but the price for this is they will both go to prison for different murders, sexual violence, and a series of miscarriages.

The happiest relationships portrayed are the ones tied to financial or social gain on the part of one person, with Robert and Cora as the blueprint. I'm not saying these kinds of matches are unrealistic or ahistorical when it comes to the aristocracy, but the issue for me is that when you apply the same thinking to working class people, especially working class queer people, you're saying something completely different. You're saying: you don't get to be happy unless someone with more money and status chooses to pluck you out of your life. And with Thomas specifically, you're saying: discovering a community of queer men on your doorstep doesn't matter. Meeting someone from that community doesn't matter (because I do think we're supposed to read Richard as knowing about the existence of Turtons even if he's too circumspect to be a regular). Only proximity to glamour and money matter, making yourself complicit in the system that oppressed you is your only chance at any sort of freedom.

When you look at it like that, in JF world, Thomas could only have ended up with Richard if Richard was somehow revealed to have been a minor royal all along. Which JF couldn't do because he'd basically given that plot to Tom and Lucy.

As a working class queer, I have a massive problem with this underlying current that only social and/or financial climbing can bring contentment in relationships. It doesn't recognise that often part of queerness is seeing that all the systems, not just the ones about sexuality and gender, are complete bullshit. Which is a position and an understanding Thomas has espoused throughout. Guy hints at sharing this viewpoint with his 'don't call me sir' request (which Thomas rejects, incidentally), but his offer is written in such a wooly way that again, you have to do the work yourself to see it as a meeting of minds rather than a conditional, vague promise of enhanced freedom based on servitude and complicity in a bunch of bullshit systems. It just feels really... anti-queer to me, in a way that’s very little to do with how I feel about Guy as a character or even the decisions made around Richard, and far more to do with what the procession of disposable working class men (including Jimmy and Chris) says about the route to happiness and fulfilment presented.  

Anyway this has become a dissertation so I'll stop. Whatever you decide, good luck anon and my inbox is always open for venting <3

[bertholdtwiththeweather]

AOT Goes Clubbing (Warriors!)

Part One | Part Two | Request :)

Y'all ready for some chaos?

Reiner:

Reiner is the most uncoordinated drunk you've ever seen. He's just too large. Plus, he has the lowest tolerance of the bunch, despite how big he is. He crashes into EVERYONE on the dance floor and insists that they are all in his way. Really, he's like a toddler that has been unleashed on the playground. He drinks whiskey, flings himself around for ten minutes, and then passes out in a booth somewhere. Armin is the one to find him. He pokes Reiner and asks, "Are you okay?" To which Reiner tosses him aside with one arm and shouts, "I WAS JUST RECHARGING! TIME TO FUCKING DANCE!" Towards the end of the night, Reiner accidentally walks into the girls' bathroom where he meets Sasha. "Hey," he says, "You strike me as someone who's really good at keeping secrets."

Annie:

Annie does NOT smoke. No, sir, she does not. Well... that is until she's on her third drink. After that, Annie is outside the club, asking anyone, "Can I bum a cig?" Naturally, she gets what she wants in an instant, and ends up hanging outside for the rest of the night. It's just so much nicer out there. She doesn't have to dance or look pretty if she doesn't want to. She can just kick her feet up and relax. She loves her nights out! Until Bertholdt stumbles outside, barely coherent, saying, "Reiner just went into the girls' room!" Annie sighs, cracks her knuckles, and says, "Thanks, buddy. Now go away." But right before she heads back inside, she's almost positive she sees a figure scampering across the roof. It must have been her imagination.

Bertholdt:

Berty is the most entertaining drunk, unknowingly and innocently starting shit wherever he goes. Give the guy a break, ya know? He spends all week stressed out of his mind, making sure Reiner doesn't snap and spill a certain secret, so Bertholdt really lets loose on the weekends. He orders the pink and orange drinks because they're fun and always come with fruit on the rim. But since they don't taste strongly of alcohol, he easily consumes eight cocktails. This is when Berty becomes increasingly messy. He can't stop asking probing questions with his big doe eyes. "Eren, why are you so angry all the time?" "Connie, are you bald by choice?" And most frighteningly, "Do you guys dare me to boop Levi's nose? I mean, it's right there! You can't expect to have a nose out in the open like tha-" NO!

Pieck/Porco/Colt:

Pieck slept all day to prepare for the big night out. She wasn't too enthusiastic about going to the club, but Colt was so excited about it, he almost cried. "Booze! Girls! Oh, Pieck, please can we go?" Not that Colt needed her permission to go out, but he definitely needed her permission to go out. Of course, Pieck gives in to the goober and the posse hits the town. Pieck is the one who hovers alluringly at the back wall, one leg kicked up, and a scotch in her hand. She subtly attracts the attention of everyone there. But people are gross and not to be trusted. Pieck can handle herself against drunk idiots, but still, Porco takes it upon himself to act as her bodyguard. This self-appointed job is just Porco deciding who is unfit for Pieck (which is pretty much everyone). And if he deems someone unworthy, he will drunkenly bark at them until they leave.

Zeke:

Zeke doesn't get very drunk at the club. He much prefers to get inappropriately wasted at events that don't call for that kind of behavior. Think funerals or ice skating. At the club, however, Zeke likes to have a drink or two, and then pretend like he's way drunker than he actually is, just to see what he can get away with. For example, he asks Erwin, "May I have this dance?" right in front of Levi, who crushes his glass with his bare hand. Then, Zeke goes to the DJ (who is now Connie) and requests the Glee version of Total Eclipse of the Heart so he can recreate the scene from the show with Levi and Erwin. Later, Zeke finds Colt passed out behind the bar. Thinking it would be hilarious, he drags Colt back onto the main floor, puts a pair of sunglasses on him, and plays Weekend at Bernie's with his rag doll body.

[coffee--writes]

The Message on the Wall

Pairing: James Potter x gn!Reader - Marauders x Reader Content

Word Count: 5.9k (jdklfdh im sorry) 

Warnings: Underage Drinking, Implications of... yeah. I think that’s about it. 

Requested: Yes, a long time (i feel bad for only getting to it but i hope the nonnie stuck around to see this piece) by an anon who asked for James x Reader with childhood best friends to lovers trope. 

Summary: In which, James Potter was busy writing himself a message on the wall but was too blind to read what he had to say. 

Pictures. 

In actuality they were only images. For Muggles, they stood stagnant, for James Potter they moved slightly. 

But in deeper meaning pictures were moments in time captured in a frame. They were a personal reminder of things that were, things that used to be and anything else that didn’t fall into one of the other two categories. 

James Potter adored pictures. His room was littered with them. A handful were of Quidditch players and Tutshill Tornados merchandise. One picture of him and his parents sat on the nightstand beside his bed. But adjourned on the wall to the left was a mostly blank wall. One small Tornados banner was pinned against the soft red paint and in the middle a picture he was particularly fond of. 

The film captured James at the age of four. A broom was clutched in his left hand and a toothy smile on his face as the wind rustled his hair causing it to stick up more than it already did. Beside him was you, your eyes crossed and your tongue licking a swirled lolly. 

When his mother had shown him the picture you had just left for home, making a young James quite sad that his friend couldn’t stay just a little longer. Euphemia Potter had smiled, handing the picture to her son. “It’s okay, my love. Now you have a piece of Y/N with you.” 

“How?” James had asked, his lower lip jutting out in a frown. 

Euphemia laughed. “The picture captures you together. Look how happy the two of you look!” she points at her son’s smile in the photo. “You can do whatever you’d like with it.” 

James grinned, his eyes lighting up once more. “I want to hang it, mum!” he dragged her hand into the bedroom with him, climbing on top of his bedsheets and pressing the picture to the wall. “Here. That way I can say goodnight to them even when they're not here.” 

Euphemia Potter smiled watching as her son tucked himself under the covers. “That’s a brilliant idea, James.” With a wave of her wand, two pins fastened themself to the wall, the photo beneath. 

That was the beginning of James’s love for pictures. More pictures would accumulate such as the one of him and his father at a Tornados game. Drawings you would give him of flowers and Kneazles. The pictures would come and go but yours stayed the same. An additional picture of you and James would later be added three years later when the two of you were seven. James’s broom no longer sat in one hand, instead was gripped with two and hovering five feet off the ground. He had a wicked smile on his face, his glasses slightly falling down his nose. You sat behind him, your small fingers clutching to his waist as the picture captured you mid-squeal. 

Time went on yet the pictures of the two of you stayed the same. Along with your drawings, which had improved dramatically since you were seven, he’d occasionally find a Hollyhead Harpies banner plastered to his wall. When he came to scold you, pink banners adjourned in his hand, you’d laugh at the pout on his lips. He could never stay angry at you and always joined in on your laughter. 

The final year before things would slightly change was the year before going to Hogwarts.  A third picture was added at the age of ten. The Potter family had accompanied your family on a trip to Diagon Alley in which you had bought your screech owl, Juniper. James had one arm wrapped around you. His hair was untidy and a goofy smile was on his face as his other hand flicked your forehead. Your eyes were closed mid-laugh as one hand pushed his face away and the other perched with Juniper who screeched happily on your available arm. 

Again, time went on quickly and changes were made in James Potter’s room but you were not one of them. He packed up his Hogwarts things the night of August 31st, leaving his room full of pictures with a soft smile. 

You rode on the train with him, both of you waving goodbye to your loved ones. You grinned at him wickedly, “Excited?” you ask. 

“Definitely.” he responded. “Do you have money for the trolley?” 

You slide into a train compartment, one small boy already sitting there. “Yeah. Do you need to borrow some?” 

James nodded and you rolled your eyes, handing money over to the kind witch who passed by, grabbing pumpkin pasties for you and Bertie Botts for James. 

The ride was life-changing as you made acquaintances with similar mindsets. Two more boys entered your compartment and along with the scrawny boy from before, all of you made it to Gryffindor. “Where dwell the brave at heart” as James liked to put it. 

First year was an interesting feat with James quickly falling head over heels for Lily Evans. Your friendship never faltered although the thought of her in his life made you feel odd. However, you were sure she wouldn’t be in his life for quite some time seeing as his persistent efforts were met with an equally stubborn rejection. 

“She’s a firecracker, that one.” he sighed, walking beside you down the hall after another devastating encounter with Lily. 

“You’re just embarrassing yourself now, my boy.” you reply, dubbing his nickname to ease the comment. 

He smirked. “Then why do you hang out with me?” 

“Because, I’m the one who makes sure you don’t cross the line from embarrassing to mortifying.” 

He shakes his head with a silly grin. “I doubt that. You love me. That’s why.” 

You laugh, an effective way of avoiding the curious ideas that ran through your young mind. “Don’t throw around the l- word so quickly! You’ve got to mean it.” 

James bumped your side. “But I’ve known you for years.” 

You ruffle his hair, making it messier than it already was. “Save it for Evans.” 

---

The year ended and the two of you went home to Northern England hands overflowing with Gryffindor red, spirits high with a drive for Quidditch practice and addresses from Remus, Peter, and Sirius tucked away in your pockets. 

James’s room changed tremendously that first year. Alongside the Tutshill Tornados merchandise were small Gryffindor banners, lions enchanted to roar at the touch. You had given him one of your sketches from the school year, one of Sirius and him laughing in Transfiguration, another of him and Peter skipping stones. The pictures of the two of you still remained, a small collection of dust coating the edges which he wiped away with a smile. 

Second year was merry and full of high spirits. James had acquired his father’s invisibility cloak which gave cause to a number of nighttime rendezvous and adventures in the kitchens. Suspicion arose on Remus, whose monthly disappearances came to your attention. With the help of Sirius and Peter, the group soon discovered Remus’s guarded secret and accepted the furry little problem with open arms. 

The Lily Evans situation did not get any better with James’s persistence holding up fiercely and her hatred toward him even more harsh. As Sirius had dubbed it, “Mate, at this point you’re never getting married.” Remus and Peter whole-heartedly agreed, sending James into an adolescent spiral. 

“What if I don’t get married, Y/N/N?” he confided in you by the shores of the Black Lake. 

You chuckled, his delirium quite adorable. “You’re going to get married, James. Trust me.” 

He sighed, snapping a twig between his fingers. “It’s not definite.” 

“Nothing is.” you counter. 

James groaned. “I know. I know. But I would like it to be. Wouldn’t you?” 

You contemplated the idea, a thought coming to your head. “What if it could be?” 

He stared at you curiously. Your eyes lit up and James grinned. “Hit me.” 

“If by the time we are thirty neither of us are married then we should get married to each other.” you propose, a proud smile on your face. “That way we can have a definite of our own.” 

James grinned. “I like that idea. But what if one of us gets married before that?”

You frown. “Then I guess it’d be a flop. But it’s better than nothing, right?” 

He agreed quickly. The sun was setting into a pond of pink. The wind rustled and birds chirped and the moment seemed picture perfect and James wished a camera would magically pop up and capture the moment so he’d be able to hang it on his wall for years to come. It did not work that way, instead, he turned to you with a smirk. “I don’t have anything to propose with.” 

You looked down in embarrassment and gave him a shove. “We’re not getting married yet! It’s just a deal not the real thing.” 

He rolled his eyes at you. “I know but it feels as though something special should happen. How about we seal with a spit swear?” 

You stick your tongue out and pretend to gag. “Ew! No.” you flick his forehead causing him to wince. He grins before flicking you back, watching as you fall back onto the grass. 

“I guess a flick works as well.” he sighs. “Y/N Potter has a nice ring to it.” 

Your head falls against his shoulder. “I can’t believe I might be a Potter one day. Sounds disgusting.” 

James laughs, the weight of your head feeling oddly familiar against his shoulder. “Oh, shut it!” 

--- 

The years came and went. Third year, James made the Quidditch team and he quickly became a ladies man despite his obvious pining over Evans. You made sure to keep his feet on the ground as you didn’t want his ego to get larger than it already was. You came to all his games, occasionally bringing a camera so that James could add his moments of glory onto his beloved room wall. There was the time he tried dedicating a shot to you and ended up getting knocked off his broom by a Beater. 

He made the next one thankfully. 

On the other hand, you had earned the title of master dueler amongst the third years for your quick arm and sharp spellcasting. While James was at Quidditch practice: you, Peter, Remus, and Sirius would practice in empty classrooms although after a while they became rather bored as you would always win. James would cheer you on, even when you beat him there was a compliment of your skill and he was more than anything, proud. 

The summer between third and fourth year was the year the Marauders got their first group picture together. Everyone had met up at the Potter residence, Euphemia Potter snapping the photo with Sirius and James to the left, Peter and Remus on the right, and you in the middle. James hung the picture on his wall as it was routine by now. The whole gang got to see his famous wall of pictures, his life an open storybook to anyone who looked closely. 

Fourth year sparked love, pranks, and new ideas. Peter went on his first date, flaming at the cheeks as his friends waved him off embarrassingly. Group pranks ensued upon Snape whose oily hair was dyed all colors of the rainbow by the end of the first semester. You had gone on your first date as well, Steven Goldstein from Hufflepuff whom James threatened to beat up and Sirius who gave him “a talk”. 

Most importantly, the group addressed Remus’s furry little problem seeing as each year he came back with more and more scars than before. Two ideas sparked up from the meeting and both were large feats that every member of the group was willing to take. 

“So wait..” Peter asked. “You want to make a map… that tracks everyone in Hogwarts?” 

James nodded and Remus shook his head. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Don’t look at me that way, Remus.” 

Remus shoved him lightly. “How would that even work though? Isn’t it a little invasive?” 

You smiled. “It most certainly is invasive but think about how awesome it’d be to have something like that. All we would need is…” 

“A complex locator spell.” you and Sirius said together. 

Everyone grinned. “Pete can do the drawing and sketching. He’s good at that stuff. We should check for secret passageways. All of us could do the magic. We’ve got the brains.” 

“I don’t think someone with brilliant magic technique would use the word brain to describe their intelligence.” you point out. James simply flicked you in the head. 

“And there’s the Animagi thing…” Sirius added. 

“That’s a reach.” Remus replied. 

“More than the map?” Peter questioned. 

Remus sighed. “You guys don’t have to do that for me. I’ve been transforming on my own for years. No need to have buddies now.” 

“Nonsense.” you say. “Anything for you, Rem. This is what you deserve.” 

The friends looked at each other silently. “Are we ready to pull off the biggest student feat in Hogwarts history?” Sirius whispered. 

“Aye, aye.” Everyone cheered. 

Peter grinned. “We’re up to no good.” 

James smiled back. “Then let us manage our mischief well.” 

WIth that the group commenced, exiting the abandoned classroom they used and taking off to class. James walked by your side as you headed to astronomy together. 

“I can’t wait till we pin this down. It’s going to be an epic year.” he grinned. 

You chuckle. “I know you’ll end up stalking someone, Potter. Evans by the looks of it.” 

He shook his head, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Nope. I’m gonna stalk you instead. See if you’re hiding any secrets from me.” 

You smile. “What secrets could I possibly be hiding from you, my boy?” 

James nudged your side with a smirk. “You’re telling me a good-looking fellow like yourself isn’t sneaking off with some other lad other than their best friends.” 

You shook your head, the word “good-looking” repeating itself in your mind. “No. If I did I would tell you.” 

“Good.” he said, starting up the stairs to the Astronomy tower. “I don’t need some arsehole stealing you away from me.” 

You roll your eyes. “No one could ever steal me from you, James. I’m not a Quaffle.” 

He nods with a grin. “Yeah. I suppose you’re more of a Snitch.” 

You laugh, dashing up the stairs in hopes that you wouldn’t be late for your Astronomy lesson.

--- 

As one could guess more pictures and sketches made their home on James Potter’s wall. It was a cluttered mess but beautiful nonetheless. It was as though the wall had an expression of its own with its array of Quidditch jerseys, photographs, art, and ticket stubs. Nobody touched the wall except James as he liked having every picture in place. His wall organized the way he liked it best… messy. 

Fifth year was the first year you didn’t see James every week. He had eagerly signed up for Quidditch camp and had left for Wales with promises that’d you write about the boys and the progress on the map and Animagi projects. The projects went well with Peter completing the outline sketches of the maps, Remus filling piles of papers on Animagi transformations and finally Sirius and you gathering the needed ingredients for the Animagi process. 

You had grown taller over the summer, hair lightening and your features more accentuated. Eagerly you awaited James’s return and when the time did come you had woken up early in the morning to see him arrive by Portkey on the hill. The second he appeared you had rushed over, engulfing him in a hug. You had missed his touch, his constant nagging and overall  the James Potterness that followed him around that would never fade with time. 

Meanwhile, he was left out of breath, a couple of inches taller and a smile on his face as he squeezed you back. “Y/N/N! I missed you, you lazy hag.” 

You laughed, messing up his hair that sat more neatly than in previous years. “And I missed you, my boy.” 

The next days before school were spent catching him up on the map and at the pond by your house. With each swim you noticed the changes in James such as the six-pack the tedious trials at Quidditch camp had given him. 

“Oi!” you shouted, splashing him in the face. “Whatever happened to the skinny twig that was my friend?” 

He smirked. “Oi! Why are you looking?” 

You bit your lip, not allowing him to see you flustered. “I’m sorry. You’re my best friend and it’s a very noticeable change!” you pointed at his toned stomach. 

James tapped your nose and you stared at him in annoyance. “It’s only noticeable if you want to notice it.” 

He turned around, making to walk back to the shore of the pond. You didn’t remember when James had gotten so cheeky although he’d always been that way, just never with you. Wickedly, you took the bucket that floated beside you and dunked it in the water. With a mischievous grin, you snuck up behind him, dumping the bucket of water on his head. 

James turned around with a gasp, jaw dropped. You laughed, a wide smile on your lips at the sight of him drenched in his swim trunks. It wasn’t until his arms tucked along your waist, dragging you to the deeper ends of the pond did the smile drop and his return. 

“Why you little…” you seethed. “James Fleamont Potter if you-” 

It was too late by then, your body submerged in the water and you swam up, his laughter the first noticeable sound. You scowled as he doubled over with laughter on the shore. “I’m never letting you go to Quidditch camp again.” 

The two of you walked home as the sun set, many flicks to the forehead ensuing as you did. 

---

Fifth year was by far the most epic year of your Hogwarts experience. Everything was prepared for the Animagi transformation and phase two of the map project was ready to launch with Remus having gained access to the restricted section of the library. 

It seemed as though the whole student body had recognized the change in James’s physique which only led to an inflation of his ego. The worst part was that Lily Evans just so happened to be one of those said noticers and while her defiance toward him was still strong, she could be caught staring in class much to James’s delight. 

The Animagi process began as soon as the September full moon. While Remus suffered in the Shrieking Shack, the four other Marauders set their Mandrake leaves into their mouths preparing for an uncomfortable month of bitterness on their tongues. The leaves were held under their tongues when talking in class and for the rest of the time they resorted to note passing leaving the entirety of Hogwarts wondering why the Marauders went quiet so suddenly. 

During the period between moons, they worked on their map. Stacks of books, both regular and restricted, lay among them. Each had a quill and parchment used to take note of spells or pass messages back and forth. As you worked you received a message from James in the form of a crumpled ball of parchment. You smoothed it out with a sigh. 

I hate this thing. It tastes like piss and lime. 

You held back a chuckle, writing your own message next to his. 

You’re not backing out of this, Potter. It’s for Remus. 

He stuck the leaf under his tongue in order to stick it out at you and you rolled your eyes. He scribbled a message back. 

I know. I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t complain about it. 

You smirked, tossing the parchment back to him. 

If your scrawny arse can come back from Quidditch camp with abs then you can stomach keeping a leaf in your mouth for a month. 

He smoothed it out and you went back to your work only getting in a minute's reading before the parchment bounced off your head. You scowled at his antics but he only looked at his book with a smirk. Unfolding the paper, James’s messy handwriting took up the last blank space on the parchment. 

Nice to know you still think about my abs. 

Your stomach squirmed at the feeling that inflamed from his words and the smirk that was on his face. You flicked him on the head, throwing the parchment into the fire before Sirius could ask what it was. 

--- 

It took moon soaked leaves, untouched morning dew and a lightning storm to finally complete the transformations. It was on a late November night that a lightning storm finally struck and in the fifth corridor bathroom the Marauders made their first transformations. For Peter, a small rat with a wriggling tail. For Sirius, a pure black dog. For James, a large stag with mighty horns. For you, a sly fox with sleek orange fur. 

Thus that night began the use of the nicknames: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs and Vixen. Dubbed by James and agreed upon all around. The final full moons of fifth year were spent prancing around Hogsmeade alongside Remus whose scars diminished with each transformation spent with his friends. 

The downside of it all was the building tension in the school. With Lord Voldemort on the rise, more and more of your classmates were showing their true colors. Select Slytherins no longer wore short sleeves, their wrists always covered even in the heat of summer. Watchful eyes and protective glares, you went home for summer in worry. 

Over the summer, Prongs lost his Pronginess. He wrote to Lily Evans most days of the week and now the things she sent him hung on his wall alongside you and the Marauders. An anticipated change but a scary one still. Every outing with James became more about Lily and less about anything else. You could feel your best friend slipping away and you told him so the night before the start of sixth year. 

The two of you sat together in the branches of a tree. The sun hit your skin in rays and clouds passed by over your heads. James’s voice droned on about his darling Lily flower and with an unknowing malice you snapped at him. “Shut it!” you groaned. 

His eyes looked over at you, hands holding your head in remorse. “Aren’t you happy for me? You’ve been acting off all summer.” 

“I’ve been acting off because you’ve been acting off. I am happy for you but Evans is the only thing you talk about these days. What happened to talking about the Tornados or sneaking out together for milkshakes?” 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s different now.” 

“Well, it shouldn’t be.” you exclaim. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t grow up. I support the idea of you no longer being a cheeky bastard. If you’re happy with Evans then I am happy for you. But being with Evans doesn’t mean you have to forget about me or the Marauders or everything else.” 

James nodded, a leaf spinning between his fingers as he frowned. “I’m sorry, Y/N/N.” 

You shake your head. “I am too. Sorry I snapped at you, my boy.” your head fell onto his shoulder the same way it had done for years only this time things had changed. The weight still felt perfect on his shoulder but now his stomach turned and his breath hitched at the close proximity. Things were indeed changing although the two of you only danced around it, not wanting to address the mess you two had made. 

Your head was still against his shoulder as you spoke quietly. “Just remember you’re not a Quaffle.” 

He chuckled, stroking your hair affectionately. “I guess I’ll be the snitch then.” 

You smiled, swimming in the feel of the James Potter you knew so well. Later that night, the two of you snuck out like old times, sharing a chocolate milkshake and sending each other glances the whole way home. 

--- 

Sixth year was a rollercoaster. The map was finished, all the efforts poured out finally receiving an equally impressive outcome with the parchment branded with the names of the Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs and Vixen. Remus had his first kiss and Sirius decided on leaving home and James welcomed him with open arms. 

The other Marauders were not impartial to the changes in your and James’s behavior. The miniscule changes in his face when you napped on his lap or the flush of your skin when he rustled your hair. In all honesty, it was as though the two of you were finally waking up and seeing what they’d been seeing all along. However, your own defiance was strong and love wasn’t simple. James was still under the impression that his heart beat for Lily Evans and you flirted around your feelings as opposed to finally confronting them. 

When Gryffindor won the Quidditch season, you were the first one in James’s arms to congratulate him. He spun you around, a large grin on his face. “We won!” 

You smiled. “That you did, my boy. Celebration calls and are you thinking what I’m thinking?” 

He tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Hmm? Let me guess… Firewhiskey?” 

“That’s my boy.” you cheer, linking your arm in his and dragging him off the field as Lily Evans watched the boy she had taken a chance on run off with someone else.

---

Firewhiskey made for a fine celebration and resulted in James and you collapsed on the floor of the Gryffindor common room at two in the morning. His glasses were crooked as he stared up at the ceiling and your hair fell in waves on the floorboards. 

“Blimey, I can’t believe we won.” James chuckled, his words slurring together slightly. 

“You deserve it, my boy.” you say, lightly punching his arm. “How are you feeling on this fine evening?” 

His cheeks went pink but a smile overtook his features making for a hilarious expression when he shouted out. “Randy!”  

You doubled over with laughter. “Gosh, James. I don’t need to hear about this.” you shove his grinning face with your palm. 

“What, you've never felt randy before?” he asked, a childlike expression on his face juxtaposing such an intrusive question. 

You hide your embarrassment behind a grin. “Yes, but I’m not going around telling you about it.” 

He tapped your nose with the tip of his finger and your stomach swirled. “And why not?” 

You turned over to your side. “I’m not sure best friends tell each other about being randy, Prongs.” 

James sighed. “I guess not. But how are you feeling, my little vixen?” 

With a swig of your drink and a grin you reply. “Randy.” 

The two of you erupt into fits of laughter. James pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I suppose it’s the whiskey then.” 

You stare up at the ceiling. “Yeah, I suppose so.” 

Both of you knew that wasn’t the case. You knew that despite the whiskey slowing the gears of your mind you still noticed James’s hand laying by your waist. You could still trace the outline of his chin and the bridge of his nose. James could still see the curve of your lips and the rise of your chest. Firewhiskey was most definitely not the cause of your randiness. 

But it was the easiest thing to blame. 

--- 

Your birthday came soon after with the Marauders celebrating in joy. Presents were exchanged with Remus giving you some books, Peter knitted (with the help of his mother) a pair of mittens for you and Sirius had gifted you a record to play on your stereo. 

But James had to be extravagant. It wasn’t everyday his best friend turned seventeen and he marked the occasion with something expensive yet meaningful. When you opened the small box inside had been a silver fox ring. It’s eyes sparkling gems that twinkled as if blinking. 

“James, I’m going to kill you.” you seethed. “This is way too expensive. I’m turning seventeen not fifty.” 

He laughed. “Oi, woman! It’s fine. Nothing I couldn’t handle. Besides, only the best for you.” 

You stared at it once more before engulfing him in a hug. “It’s beautiful, my boy. Thank you.” 

His arms squeezed your waist, breathing you in and remembering the sweet smells of childhood and friendship rolled into one. His eyes closed and it was as if he had drifted off into a pleasant dream. “Of course, my little vixen.”

You made certain to flick his head after. 

He was starting to regret giving it to you already. 

---

Sixth year came to a close with an even more devastating end than the last. The war only continued to rage with Muggles being murdered miles away from the school, Muggle-borns driving into hiding. Sirius’s brother was slowly falling into line with the other Slytherins, devoting their hours to the torture of Muggleborns, Lord Voldemort and the likes. 

James left Hogwarts heart-broken when Lily Evans broke up with him on the last day of term. “Look around!” Lily had told him. “You’re blind, James. I’m not the person you want and it’d be clear if you’d stop and take a look.” 

He hadn’t known what she meant and the first week of summer was spent crying and eating ice cream on the sofa with you by his side. His room had become a mess and Lily’s letters no longer remained on the wall instead crumbled up in a ball in the trash. 

Euphemia Potter couldn’t dread to see her son in the dumps any longer and she made sure to tell him so one evening after you had left. 

“James, you need to get your life together, my love.” she whispered, rubbing her sons back reassuringly. 

His words came out muffled into her neck. “It’s hard.” 

“I know.” she soothed. “And I’m always going to be there for you.” 

“Promise?” he asked. 

“Promise.” she smiled. “Now how about you go clean your room. It’s become quite dirty.” 

He nodded, trudging to his room with a broom. Lily’s words repeated in his mind as he entered. “You’re blind, James. Look around!” But there was nothing to look for. All he saw was his wall and a soft smile came to his face as he approached it. The Tutshill Tornado banners clung loosely to the paint and drawings of Kneazles and landscapes and trees. Pictures of the Marauders and Gryffindor lions. 

And finally the ones of you. 

His fingers ran across the picture in the middle. Four-year old James grinning and you licking a lolly. His eyes moved to the next one, seven years old and flying together on a broomstick. A grin broke out on his face as he saw the one with your owl in Diagon Alley, his fingers flicking your forehead. James’s mind was on hyperdrive as he examined each picture, one common factor in almost all of them. 

You. 

You were in many of the photos, a smile adorned on your face. If you weren’t in the photos you were the one taking them, knowing how much he adored them. Any pictures that hung were sketched by your hands. Here was James Potter’s open story, the story of his life all plastered to the wall as though it was an empty canvas. Present in every moment, every aspect, had been you. You had been the start of his book, the picture of the two of you as tots still smacked in the middle of the wall. Yes, he realized. You had started his book and had remained in it for quite some time. 

Lily Evans must’ve noticed and maybe everyone else had too. 

James had been blind to the message that was sprawled across his wall. He had been the one writing it, maybe not knowingly but writing it out all the same. Everyone had seen it except the writer and his subject, the message painstakingly clear years prior to its conception. 

He quickly removed all the pictures from the wall, grabbing each one that hung and piling them up in his hand. The door swung open as he dashed out of his room yelling, “I’ve got to go, mum!” before running out the front door. The hills of green were illuminated by the night sky, the stars burned for James as he hopped over branches and boulders to get to you. 

Your house was in the distance, your figure standing a few feet away from the home. He called out to you, your eyes turned to meet his. When he reached you, he paused, catching his breath. 

“James, what on Earth are you doing here?” you laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder as he breathed. 

He stood up straight, panting as he held up a photo. “This is us when we were four. The first photo we ever took together.” 

You squinted at him. “Right?” 

He shuffled through the pictures, fingers tracing each one. “And this is from when we were seven. That one from when we were ten. You gave me this drawing when we were six because you loved Kneazles and wanted one as a pet. That drawing was from the first year when we went skipping stones at the Black Lake and you sketched me and Peter.” 

Your face melts slowly. “James, I don’t understand. You’ve had these for years.” 

He exhaled, his eyes lighting up. “That’s the thing. I never saw it till now but Lily said I was blind and that she wasn’t the person I wanted.” You nod, wiping the sweat from his forehead with your sleeve and he grinned. “See that right there. That’s what I want.” 

The night air bit at your spine. “You want me to wipe the sweat from your forehead?” 

He shook his head with a soft chuckle. “Not exactly. I want you to wipe the sweat from my forehead for the next year and the next ten and then the next fifty. You’ve been doing it for years already and the thing is… I don’t think I want anyone else doing it for me.” 

You blinked as he came closer, his palms cradling your cheek as you gazed into his eyes. “You’ve been in my life for as long as I could remember and I want you to stay in it for as long as I live. You told me once to not throw around the l-word and I said…” 

“But I’ve known you my whole life.” you mutter. 

“I think I’ve loved you for a while. I just didn’t know it yet.” 

You shook your head as the wind rustled the branches, the windchime on your porch creating soft melodies. A large grin spread across your lips yet you continued to shake your head. “There’s a war, James.” 

He smiled. “Only more the reason to be with me.” 

“But I’ve been with you my whole life.” you tease. 

“Oh, shut up!” he chuckles, before leaning down to capture your lips. At that moment everything made sense. All the pieces of the puzzle sifted into place and the stars applauded you from the sky and the night gale created a ruckus at your shed blindfold. 

“Be my Snitch?” he asked. 

You rolled your eyes, “That’s the cringiest thing you’ve ever said, my boy.” 

He smirked. “Oh, but you love it.” 

“Perhaps I do.” you replied, flicking his forehead for good measure. 

---

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[helenadelacoeur]

slytherin!reader x Fred

‘Why are you all by yourself, (y/n)? Got tired of all the snakes?’

You sigh but you don’t turn around, instead keeping your eyes on the stack of magical candy that is in front of you. You recognized the voice, of course.

Fred Weasley.

He isn’t deterred by the lack of answer.

You’re still deciding between Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans or chocolate frogs when Fred appears beside you, following your gaze. ‘Looking for some candy?’

‘Obviously,’ you respond.

‘Need some advice?’

You roll your eyes. ‘No, thanks.’ Just to get rid of him, you walk along towards the sugar feathers and the glow-in-the dark gums that are displayed on another table. To your dismay, Fred follows you.

‘You must be very hungry, coming here despite the weather.’

You automatically glance over your shoulder. It has been snowing for hours, the flakes forming a thick white carpet on the ground. The snow – and the freezing wind accompanying it – is the reason your friends decided to stay in the Slytherin Common room.

You sigh. ‘Since when are you so noisy?’

Fred puts a hand against his face in mock-embarrassment.

‘And where’s your brother?’ you say. ‘Why are you here all by yourself?’

Fred grins. ‘George has a cold – so it is up to me to fill up our resources.’ He shrugs. ‘His own fault. He knows my enchanted snowballs are the best.’

‘I am sure they are.’

‘So why are you here, {y/ln)? I never took you for a Bertie’s kind of girl.’ You look at the packet in your shoulders. ‘If I tell you, do you promise to leave me alone?’

He shrugs.

‘They’re not for me. They are for my sister. It’s her birthday in a couple of days and this was my last chance to get her a gift.’

You walk back and grab some chocolatefrogs as well.

‘How old is she?’

‘Eleven in a couple of days.’

Fred grins. ‘So she’ll go to Hogwarts next year, I presume? Do you think she’ll end up in Slytherin?’ He grins. ‘Gryffindor might steal her.’

‘I don’t think so,’ you respond.

‘Why not? Is it a family tradition to end up in Slytherin?’

‘That’s not what I meant. I meant: she’s not going to Hogwarts.’ You flesh him a smile, enjoying his surprise. ‘She’s a muggle.’

Now he looks completely dazzled.

‘A muggle?’ he responds. ‘How?’

‘I am a halfblood. My mother – the muggle parent, married another muggle. She’s my half-sister.’ You walk towards the counter, Fred still following you, even though you have already told your story. As you wait in line, you shrug. ‘She loves magical candy.’

‘So she knows?’ Fred asks.

‘Of course she knows. Otherwise I wouldn’t be sending her these, would I?’ You gesture towards the chocolate frogs.

‘I guess not, no,’ Fred says. He’s silent for a couple of blissful seconds, a thoughtful expression on your face. You glance at him. When he’s not teasing you, he is quite handsome, you think. You have always had a thing for redheads.

‘Would you like a butterbeer?’ Fred asks.

Now it is your turn to be surprised. ‘What?’

‘A butterbeer. My treat. Because I have teased you.’ He smiles at you. ‘I do have to buy a few things here, but it won’t take long. I know this store by heart.’

He stares at you and it takes you a couple of seconds to realize he’s waiting for your answer.

‘Why?’ you ask him. ‘Do you really want to be seen with a Slytherin?’

‘Not if you don’t mind being seen with a Gryffindor.’

You hesitate.

‘It is really cold outside,’ Fred says. ‘Butterbeer will warm us up.’

That is a good argument.

‘Fine,’ you say.

Fred grins.

 ~~

He keeps true to his word. It takes him less than two minutes to select everything he needs. He looks very happy as you leave the store.

‘The snow is getting worse,’ you say.

‘Better, you mean,’ Fred corrects you, still smiling. ‘Don’t you like playing in the snow?’

You shrug. ‘I like ice-skating.’

Fred looks surprised. ‘I have never done that.’ He ponders it for a couple of seconds. ‘If you teach me how to skate, I’ll teach you how to bewitch a snowball.’

‘That might be a useful trick for our next game.’

Fred scoffs. ‘I have survived bludgers, I think I can take a snowball.’

‘Iceball, then.’

He grimaces. ‘I am starting to regret my offer.’ He glances at you. ‘Are you cold?’

In fact, you are shivering.

‘We are almost there,’ he says.

‘I’ll be fine,’ you mutter. ‘I just prefer summer, that is all. Or autumn.’

‘What about spring?’

You shrug. ‘I think spring is overrated.’

Fred laughs, out loud. ‘I have never heard anyone say that.’ He looks at you appreciatingly. ‘Do you have more siblings?’

‘No. It’s just me and my sister.’ You look at him. ‘You have six, don’t you?’

Fred nods. ‘You know most of them.’

 ~~

It is busy in Three Broomstick’s Inn, but Fred finds you a place in no time. The butterbeer is warming you up quickly.

You notice Fred staring at you and quickly wipe your upper lip.

He grins.

‘What do you do for fun?’ he asks.

And that cliché question starts a conversation that lasts for hours. You don’t realize how quickly the time is passing, only that more and more people are leaving. You realize that you did not know a lot about Fred, but that he is in fact a very interesting person.

This morning you weren’t too happy that you had to leave your warm and comfortable bed, but now it turns out to be one of the most enjoyable days you have had in months.

‘It’s already dark outside,’ you realize, jumping up. ‘We still have to get back.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Fred responds, still sitting down. ‘I’ll protect you.’

You scoff, but can’t suppress a small smile. Fred notices it and his grin widens.

‘Let’s go and pay,’ you saw, but he places his hand on your wrists. His fingers are warmer than yours, his face is softer than you have ever seen it before. ‘This is on me,’ he says ‘I’ll pay – like I said I would.’

‘You don’t have to,’ you protest.

‘I am a gentleman,’ he says. ‘I always pay on the first date.’ He looks at you, as if he is waiting for you to protest. As a warm feeling spread to your stomach, you nod. You aren’t entirely sure this isn’t going to turn out to be a prank just yet, but you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. Besides, you never though Fred to be a cruel person.

Annoying, perhaps.

But cruel, or even mean? No.

What will your friends say, when you tell them you have been on a date with Fred Weasley? You are still trying to image their faces as Fred returns. ‘Ready to face the snowstorm?’ he asks.

You stand up. ‘Fred?’

He looks at you questionly.

‘Was this really I date? I mean – I thought you ha- disliked Slytherins. Especially the ones on the Quidditch team.’

Fred smiled, but this time you noticed something that could be called doubt on his face. ‘It is a date if you want it to be.’ He hesitates. ‘And I never really disliked you, (y/n).’

‘But you dislike Slytherins.’

‘Not really,’ he admits. He falls silent for a few seconds, seems to reconsider his words. ‘Perhaps I did. But that was stupid of me.’

‘You mean that?’

He nods.

‘That I do want this to be a date,’ you say. You’re still wondering what will happen tomorrow – if you’ll talk when you are back at Hogwarts. But as you are walking back, occasionally throwing non-bewitched snowballs at one another, you don’t really think about that question anymore.

[aitarose]

AOT BOYS IN LOVE ISLAND

⤷ characters: eren jaeger, jean kirschtein, armin arlert, levi ackerman, erwin smith, connie springer, reiner braun, bertholdt hoover, marco bott, niccolo

eren would be the type of contestant that’d come off extremely strong at the start, knowing full well of what the show entails—and ready to make any type of connection that could conclude in success.

he’d be the third or fourth contestant to walk into the villa, on the very first day. there’d be about two to three women that’d step forward for him—so he’d definitely get his pick of the bunch. 

however, throughout the season his confidence would start to waver—he’d get overwhelmed with the concept of being filmed 24/7 and wish to have his privacy back. 

there’d definitely be a few breakdowns on his part, solely from the stress of making vulnerable confessions of feelings and emotions in front of the entire world on film. 

that being said, he’d still manage to find someone that relates to him on a deep level that he can walk out of the villa with. the two of them would end up self eliminating—believing that it’d be more effective to build there connection within the privacy of their own homes. 

jean wouldn’t be the immediate heartthrob on the show, but would end up stealing not only the contestant’s hearts—but the viewer’s as well.

he’d be the first to walk into the villa, and literally no one would step forward for him—not because he’s unattractive or anything, just because they wanted to keep their options open and not jump at the first person they see. 

his first couple would be a friendship couple and he’d be best friends with that woman throughout the entirety of the season, they’d be connected at the hip in the best platonic way possible. 

but about halfway through the season, he’d be called to go on a surprise date with a new contestant and they’d just hit it off right away. like this person would be his perfect match and the viewers would be ecstatic for him.

i full heartedly believe that he’d be the one to win the show, obviously choosing to share the $50k with his significant other—there’d be no doubt in his mind that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with them.

armin would be the contestant with a completely open and vulnerable heart. he’d be open to any connections and relationships, just solely focused on the bonding aspect of it all—wishing to have a great summer and find some real friendships. 

he’d be the person that’d stick through their first coupling throughout the entire show, finding that connection extremely valuable and not wanting to let it go.

challenges would be a breeze for him, like this boy would win a majority of them due to his knowledge of strategy and complex thinking—he’d find loopholes to each riddle and physical struggle, just showing off his intelligence in every way. 

however, casa amor would be a big blow to him. he’d feel so secure in his couple that he wouldn’t have that serious conversation of where they’re both at, and his partner would end up recoupling in the other villa. 

he’d be completely blindsided and end up self-eliminating soon after—not having the energy or time to take on an entirely new connection, believing that that person was it for him and that the villa would have nothing else to offer him. 

firstly, i don’t think levi would ever be a contestant on a reality television show, let alone a dating one—but in the off chance that he did so happen to be on love island, it’d be because hange signed him up for it without his knowledge.

he’d be the lone wolf type of character, just living his own life—not interacting with any of the other contestants unless they’d come and approach him for conversation. 

there wouldn’t be very many connections for him—probably only one if i’m being honest—and it’d be with a sort of bubbly type of person, one with good morals that wouldn’t be afraid to break him out of his shell and show him how to enjoy his time in the villa. 

while he’d be wary of a romantic relationship, he’d end up falling for his partner extremely hard and would find himself protective and somewhat possessive of them—just to make sure that he wouldn’t end up losing them to someone else. 

considering all of his doubts, he wouldn’t make it to the final four—probably only to the casa amor point, before being eliminated by viewer vote. however, he’d be amazing at challenges. 

sexy dilf erwin would be a bombshell entrance in the villa—the kind where he’d be waiting in the hot tub balcony for his chosen date partner, just sipping wine and relaxing in the bubbles with his one arm resting on the side. 

he’s very charming and would manage to sway the attention of a majority of the villa, men and women alike—and there’s no telling the shenanigans he’d get up to with the friends he’d make in there. 

this man would be the cause of inborn relationship drama, but wouldn’t be involved directly—rather the type of drama where he’d be discussed but not actually have any say in whatever the matter was. 

his placement would be around the top six or seven, just because he’d be so sought after that there’d be a hard time finding someone who he really connects with—since he’s trying his best to give every suitor an opportunity to try it with his sexy self. 

he’d also have the thickest cockney accent that you could dream of—or a really really posh south london accent, like pinky up tea drinker and everything. 

connie would be the fan-favorite contestant. he’d be that guy that absolutely no one stepped forward for and be the pity party right off the start, but manage to sway the audience with his natural humor and amusement.

he’d be the king of friendship couples, like he’d be the villa’s safety net for contestants who wouldn’t have anyone else to couple up with, and would secure their places in the show—without ever harboring any real feelings for those people. 

casa amor would be his time to shine, he’d be living his best life in the other villa and have all the girls on his arms—with a wide variety to choose from and connect with. this is where he’d meet his perfect match. 

coming back to the main villa with this partner, all of his friends would be extremely happy for him and just excited that he was able to get the experience that he signed up for. 

him and his partner would end up in third or second place—though they’d be a fan favorite pairing, they just wouldn’t have had enough screen time to win the show completely. 

reiner would be the shock contestant that’d be revealed after the first five couples were matched. he’d run into the villa with full confidence that he’d be able to snag one of the beginning contestants with ease.

however, that confidence would soon fade by his own insecurities and emotions—the fear of being unwanted and alone catching up with him in the worst possible ways, causing him to have a small breakdown before the coupling ceremony. 

but he’d still choose one of the contestants, not having any real connection with her other than the first conversation—and that couple would completely crumble beneath him. 

he’d get eliminated soon after by the following recoupling ceremony, and sadly wish his friends goodbye with a tear running down his cheek—it’d be extremely emotional despite the minuscule amount of time viewers would get to know him .

that being said, he’d still leave an impact on the season as the contestant who just couldn’t catch a single break.

lil ole berty would be the contestant that everyone looks over, contestants and viewers alike. he’d be that nice background guy that everyone is fine with, but often forgets he exists—which really puts a stunt on his time in the villa.

he’d be in a safety couple, one where him and his partner are loyal to their connection, but not head-over-heels interested in one another. just two people who are attracted to one another with no real bond. 

challenges would be a bit of a struggle for him, just the competitiveness of it all and the pointless wonder of the whole ordeal—the show in general wouldn’t really be something up his ally.

him and his partner would end up getting eliminated early on to halfway through the season by an islander vote. it’d be a this or that couple elimination and only about two couples would vote to save them, causing him to have to pack his bags and head out. 

twitter would have a field day with memes though, his sleeping positions would be trending all over the love island hashtag every night. 

marco would be the nice guy contestant. the one that’s the boy next door kind of character type that everyone would love and see as the voice of reason and peace. 

he’d be somewhat of the villa’s therapist, if that’s the appropriate word, and would always be there to lend an ear to any islander who’s having issues in their couple or just problems in relation to the show’s process and journey. 

his encouragement would make him a fan favorite with viewers and allow him to make it fairly far into the season—probably past the casa amor point and nearly to the family segments. 

he wouldn’t ever be in a totally stable couple, always having to take on the stress of the other islanders and never having the opportunity to really focus on his own time and relationships. 

but he’d gain a massive following and get a shit ton of brand deals after the whole show is over. 

niccolo’s love island experience would be different from all the rest, as he’d be one of the casa amor contestants—there to sway the main villa’s relationships and connections with a mere four-five days of conversation.

he’d end up stealing the hearts of the women and finding a person that matched him on a deep level—with not only his good looks, but the way he manages a kitchen as well.

the main boys would love him and immediately see him as one of their own—enjoying his company and how he’d make everyone a full course meal every single morning right as they woke up to the automatic bedroom lights.

the viewers would also be a little obsessed with him as his pairing would just be lovable in all ways—the look in his eyes being one of pure adoration and love, nothing falsified or phony—just absolute infatuation.

i feel like he’d snag a fourth place win, happily in the final four, yet still not quite there. overall, secure and safe within his couple—and excited for the future of him and his match.

aitarose do not copy, claim, or mimick my writing, works, themes, copy and paste my words, or headers and tags as your own. do not use my blog as a template for your own, or base your theme on mine.

[ultimate-marysue]

I actually love the CR3 party, and now that I have some time I'll try to articulate why. Also, At the end I might add a few encouraging words for those of you who are not yet feeling the party. Not my experience this campaign, but trust me I see you:

*spoilers up to cr3 ep3 below*

Imogen I was more on the fence about, but after this episode she's starting to grow on me. At first she seemed a bit bland by comparison but I'm finding her whole thing quite fascinating. It has quite a few interesting ramifications and I want to see how they explore them.

F.C.G. is super cute and I think the comedic duo they form with Ashton is gold. As the rest of the fandom, can't wait for Sam to rip my heart out of my chest with this little robot guy. I think they have a lot of potential for both party bonding and party conflict. Anyways, a treat.

Ashton is just wonderful. I like their dynamic of assertive and we'll adjusted menace to society. His attitude of "have any of you children ever crimed? Would you like some pointers?" They have a shit ton of mystery around them and I can't wait to find out. Also, barbarian Ashton means it's less likely that Taliesin will have his character snatched too soon.

Laudna is super funny to me and I'm having such a blast theorizing about her between Thursdays. I can't wait for Marisha to just destroy all of my headcanons (or maybe validate them, who knows). Her dynamic with Imogen is really sweet and I enjoy watching the cast interact with her (with the whispers and stuff)

Orym is my man. I just love his quite sense of humor, the way he balances his morals and naivete with the world he lives in...He might be one of my fav characters honestly. Orym just oozes comfort! The mini exu party also have a wonderful dynamic with one another and I want to see how he opens up to the others! All in all, very solid character, don't really get the whole "calling him boring" stuff.

Fearne is unhinged and I'm with her every step of the way. Ashley Johnson is just peak comedy gold for me. Just, the sweet little voice with the chaos god level shenanigans she gets into...man, it's my cup of tea. I think she's great as a party player because although she doesn't seem to care that much for the plot she just loves interacting with everyone in the group. Specially loved her interactions with Bertie.

Dorian is probably my favorite or my second favorite character. I pray to the CR gods that he's a permanent addition to the table. Sure, more players make things a bit more chaotic, but I just like him too much. The exu dynamic is one of the things I like most, and I just really love bards. They're my favorite class and I like how Robbie plays them. He's funny, but very well mannered and outright a deconstruction of the bard stereotype at times. Seeing a Charisma 20 player play a high charisma character is always great.

Bertrand was just perfect. He came and went, staying every second in his peak. He was funny, he was mysterious, he was tragic and he was oh so lovable despite (or maybe because) it all. I think he died at a perfect point, the right push for the party from "yeah, solving this would be cool and we get money" to "This is personal now". I knew he wasn't forever so I enjoyed him while I could. I'm excited for the actual character but, until then, well played Travis Willingham.

I might change my mind though the campaign and maybe the characters won't live to this new expectations, but I'm fine with that too. I'm just really surprised of how much I'm liking them this time around. As a og VM fan, it always took me a while to like all the characters. Like, maybe I'd had a few I immediately like and the others slowly grew on me. I found Beau a bit annoying at first but she was one of my favorites by the end, same with freaking Scanlan.

My recommendation for old CR fans, specially those that only watched MN, is to give them time. And I mean time. Not every character will show their true colors at the start. Maybe the ones you dislike now might actually turn into your favs for the same reasons you used to hate them. If it's truly not that enjoyable for you, then there's a lot of other podcasts about D&D. Trust me, you don't owe this show anything, you can just leave whenever. But if you're enjoying the show, just not so much the characters, don't worry too much about it. With 8 players, we've barely had any time with each individually.

[writeblrfantasy]

excerpt from brandr wip: nightmares

Ivan sighs again, both hands running along his shoulders under his thin nightshirt. It’s a sort of mindless rub, an absent massage, and it does a good job of tethering Brandr to the bed. The rocking of the sea and the memories fade away, the phantom scent of blood, with Ivan’s touch. “Brandr, do you want to stop off at an island? Take a breather for a few hours? A day?”

“No time,” Brandr mumbles, ignoring how enticing the idea of stepping off the boat even for an hour, a few minutes is. This boat is suffocating, dark, encased in nightmares. It’s so much worse than last time, even with the sea battle and Bertie and Carr and fire raging all around them. There was no time to think there, or even on the way to the Oslands. He just shut the nightmares out, took his breathers at night, compartmentalized, carried on.

He contemplates stepping out to the deck now for some air, but just leaving the bed, lugging his cane up and fumbling his way around in the dark—all that fuss just feels like more effort than it’s worth. His whole body aches to run away, but just getting out of bed is a mountain he’s not strong enough to climb just now.

Ivan chuckles, resting his chin on Brandr’s shoulder. Brandr reaches back for one of his hands to hold, desperate for something to squeeze. Ivan is warm and steady where Brandr is sweating cold and shaky still. “Brandr, we’re not going to drop dead just yet. We have time.”

“No, I’m fine. We press on. Cerrick said it himself, we can’t afford to dilly dally lest someone else find Prince Mikhail first.” He scrubs at his eyes with his free hand, the strange mix of tired yet wide awake after a nightmare like that. The candlelight is a haven in this room, keeping the shadow figures away the way moonlight can’t.

Ivan sighs, grumbling, “Stubborn bastard,” but not protesting further. How do he and Edda know how to handle him so well, Brandr wonders? They both know if they pushed just a little more, he would give in and agree to stop at an island, but they know the blow to his pride would be too high a price. Brandr would obsess and beat himself up over delaying the whole mission just because of a few nightmares, he wouldn’t be able to focus the rest of the voyage, and he’d get into the Oslands on a wrong foot.

How does Brandr only see these things about himself when it’s his loves who point it out?

“If you’re not going to spiral,” Ivan murmurs, slipping away, voice already drowsy with sleep again, “come here and let me hold you. You’re not there, wherever your head took you, and I’m not going anywhere. No better way to prove that than by”—he’s interrupted by a yawn—“by me squeezing the breath out of you.” Brandr smiles despite himself, despite everything. He’s overcome with gratitude for Ivan, and a fierce, sharp pang of love he lets wash through him utterly.

feels good to be posting excerpts again :) having an absolute BLAST with this wip even if it doesn't have a title yet. i hope you all love them as much as i do <3

orderverse taglist (lmk to be added/removed) @willowiswriting @ninazeniks @magic-is-something-we-create @myhusbandsasemni @ren-c-leyn @justwriteyoudummy @47crayons @yejidoesthings @ettawritesnstudies @faithfire @a-forgotten-dusk @talesfromaurea @ashen-crest @thelaughingstag @nicola-writes