#we just got a bit of normalcy back for all of them i need more than one more season of that

[n1blakelover]

i feel like i’m the only one that doesn’t want arc 3 (seasons 8-10) to be set far into the future. like im talking 10 years into the future. because i know that if this happens and the characters are in marriages and have their own children then the story is more than likely going to be about their children and i personally want to know more about the characters we’ve been with, not their kids. don’t get me wrong, i would love to see domestic rayllum and their kids and how all the other characters have grown up, but i don’t want those children to be the focus. i want more of the characters we already know and love. which is why if we do get arc 3, i want it to still be about our main characters (obviously while branching out to seeing others like how arc 2 has branched out to lux aurea) and their conflicts and stories and lives. i’ve seen a lot of theories for how they could still be the focus and my favorite one is probably with the antagonists being the cosmic order against our characters

[trainsinanime]

I wonder: Do Americans know about american school buses? Not their existence in general, but how they're seen overseas.

Over here, they're one of the symbols of America, on par with the Statue of Liberty, the flag, the Eagle, and well ahead of any chain restaurant you can name. People won't know any US states, but they will know these vehicles.

The thing is, here in Germany, we don't have dedicated school buses. The general idea is that kids go to school on their own. When that's not practical, they're expected to use (and given free tickets for) public transit. Public transit is designed around this requirement; there are many places where there is a bus, and anyone can get on it, but the route and timetable really only makes sense for school children. In case a dedicated school bus is really needed, that's generally subcontracted out, and the lines either use something like a Sprinter Van for smaller routes, or a normal city or interurban bus (often a used one that's a bit older). School trips are normal public transit, or a rented bus, typically a coach or regional bus.

It's not a perfect system, in the past couple of years there's been an epidemic of people bringing their kids to school in their cars instead of letting them walk, which is less than ideal. It is what it is. But building a dedicated network of public transit lines only for students, and building dedicated vehicles only for that, has never occurred to anyone here.

Of course we know about these buses, from movies and such, but they're as foreign here as cacti or pick-up trucks (actually we're seeing more and more of these here) or yellow cabs (all europeans will assume all cabs in the US are yellow until they actually visit).

You do see these buses here at times, because people still generally like the idea of the US, even if they have a lot of issues with a lot of details, and so folks bring them over, along with stretch limos and stuff (also not really a thing here). And of course, if someone goes to all that trouble, they don't do it to haul school kids, they rent it out for city tours or as a party bus or whatever.

So you see these yellow things as a symbol of faraway places, scenic vistas, some vague undefined idea of freedom that doesn't necessarily hold up to any contact with reality, and it's just a huge part of the whole US aesthetic.

And then you go to a student exchange with the US, and you finally get the chance: You yourself get to ride in one of these iconic chrome yellow buses! It looks just like in the movies! You get in, you drive in them a little…

…and you realise they're shit. Just the worst buses in the western world. Terrible suspension. Uncomfortable seats with weirdly high backs (so they don't have to put seatbelts in, they just restrict how far kids can fly in an accident). Everything made out of the cheapest materials. Turns out the reason why the US uses school buses like that instead of normal modern city buses, which the US has, is to save money and because they just hate kids.

And then it hits you why US Americans say "as American as apple pie", a dish that is made and enjoyed literally anywhere in the world, instead of "as American as yellow school buses". Of course the Americans already knew all this. They got tortured by these things forever. It would never occur to them to see this as a symbol of America, it's just a normal part of life for them. It's a symbol of school and school life and sometimes normalcy, and tells us that these actors getting out of it are supposed to be teenagers, nothing more.

But most people in Europe have, of course, never ridden on these buses. So when they see them in movies and TV, that's a giant big yellow signifier that we're not in Hessen or Wallonia or wherever anymore. A symbol of a different world, one that may be at most a once-in-a-lifetime-experience for most people, just like a picture of a tropical beach, Mayan Pyramids, the Great Wall of China, or Hildesheim (there's no reason to go there twice). And I think Americans don't know that, and that's fascinating.

[remeberm3]

anything | k.m

⎯⎯“Did you… raid every orange grove in the area?”

warnings: he's so sweet, fluff

The late afternoon sunlight streamed into your shared home, casting a golden glow over the chaos in the kitchen. You were perched on the countertop, cross-legged and holding a peeled orange in your hands like it held the meaning of life. Klaus leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with a mixture of bemusement and fondness.

“You’ve been staring at that orange for ten minutes, love,” he finally said. “Is this a new hobby I should be concerned about?”

You looked up, your lips twitching into a sly smile. “Did you know oranges are kind of the perfect fruit? They’re sweet, tangy, and they smell amazing. Plus, they come in their own packaging. It’s genius, really.”

Klaus raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Are we still talking about oranges, or has this turned into some elaborate metaphor about life?”

You popped a wedge of the fruit into your mouth, chewing thoughtfully before replying. “Maybe it’s a metaphor, maybe it’s just a really good orange. Who’s to say?”

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You are insufferable.”

“And yet,” you said, pointing a sticky finger at him, “you love me.”

He leaned in, placing his hands on either side of you on the counter, effectively caging you in. “More than anything, but that doesn’t mean I understand half the things that come out of your mouth.”

You smirked, offering him a piece of the orange. “Try it. Maybe you’ll see the light.”

He took the wedge, his fingers brushing yours briefly. “I don’t need to eat an orange to see the light, darling. I’ve got you for that.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “Are you trying to distract me with sweet talk, Mikaelson?”

“Is it working?”

“Maybe,” you admitted, your voice softer now.

༊*·˚

The next day, you woke to the smell of something citrusy and floral wafting through the air. You padded into the kitchen, still rubbing sleep from your eyes, only to find Klaus standing amidst what could only be described as an orange apocalypse.

The counters were covered with oranges—some whole, some peeled, some sliced into perfect wedges. There was a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice on the table, next to what appeared to be an orange-scented candle.

“Klaus,” you said slowly, looking around the room. “What… what is all this?”

He turned to you, wiping his hands on a towel, a smug grin on his face. “Good morning, love. I thought I’d surprise you.”

“You certainly succeeded,” you said, picking up a perfectly sliced orange wedge. “Did you… raid every orange grove in the area?”

“I may have gone a bit overboard,” he admitted, though he didn’t look the least bit remorseful. “But you seemed so taken with them yesterday, I thought I’d make it my mission to give you the best orange experience possible.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet,” he said, stepping closer, “you love me.”

“More than anything,” you admitted, repeating his words from the day before.

By the end of the day, you’d eaten so many oranges you were fairly certain you were radiating Vitamin C. Klaus had insisted on making orange-infused everything—pancakes, salad dressing, even some kind of experimental orange-glazed chicken that, to your surprise, was actually delicious.

༊*·˚

As the sun set and the kitchen returned to some semblance of normalcy, you found yourself on the couch, curled up against Klaus’s side. He was absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair, the other hand holding a book he wasn’t really reading.

“You know,” you said, your voice muffled against his chest, “I didn’t mean for you to go full orange fanatic on me.”

“I know,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But I’d do it all over again if it made you smile.”

You pulled back, looking up at him. “You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Without question,” he said, his voice as steady and certain as the way he looked at you.

Your heart swelled, and you couldn’t help but grin. “You’re kind of perfect, you know that?”

“Only because you make me so,” he said, his tone teasing but his eyes soft.

And in that moment, surrounded by the lingering scent of oranges and the quiet hum of his love for you, you felt like the luckiest person in the world.

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

What is the first Christmas outside of the factory like for the toys? Do they celebrate it?

Normalcy and other weird things you never heard about

Hiiii! Decided to write something short for this one. I'll be working on all the other Christmas stuff possibly tomorrow! Thanks for the ask, Anon!

As always: 2nd person POV because Angel refers to themself as "you" instead of "me". Also not as always, but this isn't proofread!

"This is weird".

Bunzo holds the comically large Santa Claus hat, wriggling it around. You carefully grab a few extra chocolate boxes to put on your already full cart. "Why?", you ask the bunny as he almost hits his head against another person's legs. "Eyes on front, not the floor!"

"Why would anyone believe a single guy can give presents to all the kids in the world?"

"Parents tell their kids that so they can have more fun during Christmas time", you respond, stopping the cart to now realize you forgot the milk. Again. "To have some magic, I guess".

"Kids are dumb", Bunzo then tries the hat on, ignoring the price tag clashing against his head.

"You are a kid".

You chuckle at his indignant expression before being surprised by a pair of comically long yellow arms. Ollie emerges from the other corridor, milk on hand and a tired expression on his face. "You forgot that again".

"Thanks, Owl".

The long legs then stares at Bunzo and rolls his eyes. "You look like a dumb kid".

"Hey!"

"Please don't fight at the grocery store again", you sigh. "Where's Dogday?"

"Here!"

The pup appears, wheelchair adorned with Christmas decoration and a red scarf wrapped around his neck. He's holding a few items on his lap, while Delight walks next to him with a very proud expression on her face and a cart full of things. "We completed our list!", she announces. "Did you finish yours, Angel?"

"Ollie just grabbed our last items".

Bunzo climbs your back. You dont even react. "But I helped!"

"Heck yeah, you did", a well-deserved head scratch for him. Bunzo stims in satisfaction, much to Ollie's disdain. "Alright, kiddos, guess this is everything on our part. Any news on Marie's group?"

"Last time I saw her, she and Poppy were debating on which pears were looking the best...", Dogday's voice tone is enough to tell you everything you needed to know: The perfectionists are doing their thing. "... They all looked the same to me..."

Still, you chuckle a bit. "Looks like they want everything to go well for our first Christmas together, eh?"

And indeed, they were.

-

Grabbing the girls away from their perfection crisis was sure a moment, but in the end, you are all able to leave the grocery store after challenging the final boss (read: The waiting line). The van becomes full of bags, and for a moment you're a bit scared y'all wouldn't fit, but years of playing Tetris have sure done a good job to you.

Together with the kids, you head back home. Miguel and Amy, wonderful babysitters as ever, are out in the backyard with the mini toys as Catnap looks over them. Your brother smiles when he sees you, and you feel very, very happy that he and Amy didn't have to deal with the kids trying to burn the house down again.

Bobby watches from her chair as you, Marie, Delight and Kissy put the groceries away. "Is that... All for Christmas?", she asks, confused.

"Heck yeah", you nod. "Christmas is for eating a ton of stuff, Bobs. Gotta go all out now that we have 87 of you!"

"But...", she bites her bead necklace. "... All of that for one day?"

"To be fair, we normally can't eat it all in one day. We cook a ton and it can last for a few days! And then after that, it's New Year's eve, and off we go to eat a ton of stuff again".

"Woah...", her eyes are shining. "A-and the cookies?"

"You're going to be the one helping me bake them".

"Yaay!"

-

You stare at the pile of gifts you got the kids. It's... A lot, and you're not even counting the stuff people donated to them. You're lucky Miguel and your parents accepted giving up their garages to fit it all in. A surprise is still a surprise, even if the kids don't believe in Santa.

Your mom is excitedly chatting with Dogday, teaching him how to crochet a scarf. Crafty listens closely, excited. When the three of you eventually have to leave that house, the kids completely oblivious to the gift plan. "Y... Y-your mom is really nice, Angel", the unicorn mutters, staring at the ground. "Really nice..."

"Don't be weirded out, Crafty. She loves all of you, like a grandma would".

"But she's not our grandma..."

"Well, f'course not, she's my mom and YOUR grandma".

"That's not what I meant...", but she's smiling, so the joke worked. "Uh...?"

"Excuse me!"

The three of you stop when a man pops up. He's probably in his mid 30s, if not maybe late 30s. You cross your arms, noticing a notebook he's carrying around. "Yes?"

"Are you the Angel from the PlayCo. Case?"

You eye the kids, annoyed, and they eye you back, also annoyed. "Yes".

"Oh, that's wonderful to hear! You see, I'm a-"

"Reporter?"

"Oh?", he seems surprised. "Yes, yes! I have been meaning to talk to you, miss, about what you plan to do with them for this holiday season. You see..."

"Nah", you walk past him. "Not interested in exposing them more during their first normal Christmas of their lives. Goodbye".

-

Christmas eve is chaotic.

Huggy wakes you up at 5 in the morning, too agitated to go back to bed. You end up being used as a plushie by him as the others sleep, the house being too crammed with living toys for you to have the luxury of proceeding with your day. When most of them awaken, you tell them about the plan.

You have to use the van a few times, but by the end of things, you're able to bring all the kids to your parents' house. After some time, they all organize in small teams in order to "help" with the very important jobs they were given. Huggy, Kissy, PJ, Boxy and Bunzo, being the youngest of them, are tasked with taking care of the snow (read: playing outside), while most of the minis don't need to be coerced into having fun.

Poppy and you get stuck in the kitchen. Your father is helping Marie with making some of the many dishes, and Bobby, Crafty and many minis are having the time of their lives with baking cookies. Catnap sits outside, "guarding" you all. Dogday goes to check on him from time to time as he tries helping you with making some good Christmas soup.

Piggy ends up helping Marie the moment she comes back from sulking outside. She's shy, but Marie's grumpiness with only having one harm is enough for her to try to help. Not that she can do much without her hands, but Delight makes a "hook" with some textiles laying around so Piggy can at least hold a spoon by herself. The three girls and your dad talk nonstop, and you and Poppy try your best to not laugh at them.

Bubba seems grumpy for not being able to do much. Despite how well the toys heal from their wounds, Bubba is a special case. A very special one. So he watches, and ask questions, while Dogday runs from place to place trying to organize the house and the extra decorations the kids insisted on buying.

Hoppy and Kickin are having their third argument of the day as they try to make pastéis. Never have you ever ate a pastel for Christmas, but the kids loved them and you didn't want to force them to follow any traditions. Ollie is merely going from place to place, helping everyone a little bit and pretending he isn't excited about it all. Eventually, your aunts and uncles pop up, and the chaos bubble pops.

They overflow you with questions, of course, but they also dote on the kids a lot, so you accept answering some things. Nando pops up right behind you, and you jump before rolling your eyes. "Fuck off, you idiot, I'm cooking", you growl.

"Parent of 87 kids and still using the same foul language", your cousin rolls his eyes at you. "Nice to see you too, dipshit".

Poppy, who's busy cutting things for you, seems curious. "Hello, sir!", she nods at him. "I'm Poppy. It's a pleasure to meet you!"

"Thought you were bigger", he jokes, and you hit him with your elbow. "Hi, Poppy. Name's Nando. I'm your dad's cousin, nice to meet you. Good to know at least someone has manners..."

"Cut it off, Nando", Miguel FINALLY pops up, snow on his hair. "Leave them alone".

"Them who?"

"My kids", you reply, smiling. "You're bothering them".

"I'm not doing anything to them!"

Another elbow hit. Poppy chuckles, understanding the situation.

-

More and more questions arise for the kids. You avoid some, the kids avoid others, and some of them have answers. The 87 toys become the theme for the Christmas eve, and when night arrives, you help everyone dress up for the occasion, sweaters and silly hats for all of them, no exceptions.

Miguel's oldest kid helps you so, so much through all of this. She's pampering her new friends, of course, while her baby sister is catching everyone's attention, including Catnap, who cannot stop staring at her. She tries grabbing his ears, and, strangely, he allows it.

Your mom takes pictures of everyone. Literally everyone, no exceptions, including one of the whole family, which had to be taken outside. When you all finally sit down to eat, many of the toys try to show off how they can finally sort of use forks and knives now. Kickin and Hoppy annoy each other to the point you have to tell them to cut it off, and Amy giggles, saying they remind her of Miguel and you.

"Really?", Kickin asks, smiling. "Didn't know that guy over there was like that".

"I'm not", you reply.

"You are", your parents, Miguel AND Amy cut you off. You shake your head. Humiliated by your own family, it seems.

Gift giving is equally chaotic. First, the human part of the fam opens their gifts. Then you open the garage's doors, and the kids all seem so, so surprised. It's... Cute, almost, to see the way they all react, and how much they help each other grab and open their gift wrappings. Dogday, especially.

Of course, not all the presents are opened here. Instead, during the following day, you put everything back at your own house before going back to your parents' to grab the kiddos.

They're happy. Surprised, yes, but extremely happy, and this is what matters most to you.

... Despite all the plushies they obtained, however, they still insist on using you as one when they have to go to sleep again.

[inbarfink]

I wanna go a bit full-circle with a post I did right after the first two episodes of ‘Fionna and Cake’ dropped - about the nature of Simon Petrikov’s sense of identity. And more specifically, with how his titular episode centered around the ways his deteriorating mental state and the new context of his life has really torn away at everything Simon used to define himself as. 

Because Simon Petrikov used to be a lot of things. He was an antiquarian and an archaeologist, a man deeply fascinated by the concept of Magic and the supernatural in a mundane world that ridiculed him for it at every turn, an adventurous outdoorsman, and a deeply caring and fatherly man.

But when we meet him at the start of “Simon Petrikov”, he has lost all the passion for his job - especially as he now has to perform it basically as a living museum exhibit. He is now stuck in a word filled with Magic and feels like the only mundane thing in it. He is unable to handle the sort of dangers you would find in an Oooian camping trip. And he made a little girl cry.

And there’s one more thing Simon used to define his identity as, and that is the one he ended up clinging to more than anything in that one episode, even though it was just as decimated as every other facet of his old identity, and the one that ends up jump-starting the plot. And that is being Betty Grof’s other half.

So now, looking back at this second episode at the end of the series, it really feels appropriate that throughout his adventures Simon managed to rediscover these old elements of his personality, that all these aspects of his identity managed to get reinforced and validated…

For most of the series he was basically doing his old job again - travelling around, trying to discover and uncover an ancient artifact.

And you can really see how he regains his excitement for research. 

And by the end of the show, he ends up really rediscovering a passion for his work (and also realized that this Living Museum Exhibit set-up is not conducive for his mental health, which is also a step in the right direction).

 

And he gets to show-off his understanding of Magic

And by the end of the show, Simon doesn’t feel like such an outsider in Ooo anymore. Probably helped by the fact his cellphone connection with Fionna gives him that little connection to 'normalcy' he was missing.

And he got to go on an adventure again, and handle it better than his Camping Trip Funtimes with Finn. Probably because he was around Adventure Novices Fionna and Cake, who were a bit closer to his ‘level’ than a crazy-seasoned adventurer like Finn

And by the end of the show, you can see him seeking thrills on his own terms.

And his ability be kind and fatherly and comforting was validated both by his constant interactions with Fionna - who isn’t a child, but is still a younger person who often needed his emotional support

And also by a very grim reminder of how truly important he was for Marcy.

And by the end of the show, he has managed to make a connection with Astrid, despite them starting out on such a sour note.

But 'Simon Petrikov, Betty Grof's beloved'? That aspect of himself did get some validation, via him getting to share their love story with Fionna

But it was not entirely validated, was it? That was the one aspect of himself that was actually challenged - the one part of himself was clinging to like a lifeline when he felt like he was falling apart, that was the one part of himself that he had to both recontextualize in his head and eventually realized he had to finally let go off…

[madridfangirl]

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Chapter 6

(Series Link)

Jude * female reader. Mature Language in parts.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Would she make him change his ways? Even though she resists him every step of the way, would he fight all odds (& her) to have her in his life? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

...........................................................................

‘Jude Bellingham, Jude fucking Bellingham was in our house?’

Ananya was plopped onto Roma’s bed, enjoying her friend’s frantic outburst. While holding on to the black RM leather jacket he had left behind. 

‘For the zillionth time, yes.��

Roma paced around the room, delirious with excitement & borderline rage.

‘And I was right here? 25 feet away? And you couldn’t call me?’

‘He was only here for like 10 mins, and….we were otherwise occupied.’

And I wasn’t really in my senses. Well, this bit she didn’t say out loud.

‘Oh my fuckin lord. Think my brain’s gonna explode. You kissed him. You kissed Jude Bellingham. Should I be happy for you or throttle you in jealousy? Fuck man!’

She continued her frantic pacing which amused Ananya further. Yes Roma had a crush on Jude (everyone did) but she had been with her college boyfriend for over 3 years. The crush was quite harmless. Borderline horny at times but generally harmless.

‘He kissed me.’

She clarified plainly, lips curving into a smile as her friend burst into another rant.

‘Yeah yeah. Lover boy couldn’t resist snogging you. I got it. But he could have said hi after.’

Ananya pulled Roma on to the bed, next to her, and hugged her tightly.

‘Next time, promise.’

That cheered her up. Her attention then went to the jacket in Ananya’s hands. When Ananya confirmed it was indeed his, she grabbed the jacket, sniffed it and hummed appreciatively.

Ananya smacked her arm in mock admonishment.

‘What? You get the whole package and I can’t even get a whiff? How’s that fair?’

Ananya just pulled the jacket back in response, wrapping it around herself.

‘Behave. Or I am telling Chris.’

Roma dismissed the false threat regarding her boyfriend. 

‘Yeah yeah. Tell me, would lover boy be open to a threesome? My birthday is in a month and you’d make the Guinness book for being the best friend ever if you serve me that sweet piece of ass.’

Ananya gasped and hit her with a pillow, both bursting into a fit of giggles.

That ugly voice inside her did wonder if he had done something like that before. Also, how easy it would have been if he had met someone as easygoing as Roma. Instead of her.

But, two nights in a row, he had asked for a chance. And she wanted to give him one. So she nipped the thoughts in the bud and let Roma distract her with all the plans she was making with the three of them together.

Monday morning brought her much needed normalcy and routine. The office was still buzzing with the Classico excitement. 

It hit her how nuts her weekend had been. When she left work on Friday evening, she had never met him. He had stormed into her life 2.5 days ago and turned everything upside down, inside out, consuming every waking moment of hers.

She opened her laptop, somehow zoned out of everything else, only checking her phone at lunch. Smiling at the notification. 

Jude: Lads are saying am buzzing today. Wonder why.

She smiled at his insinuation. Then pictured him being a nuisance in training. 

Ananya: No clue. Classico hangover? Hit your head in a tackle? 

He came online when she sent the message, probably having lunch too.

Jude: Need me to come over and give you a reminder? Your office desk instead of your dining table? 

He cut to the chase straightaway. Her whole body jerked as she pictured what he was implying. He wasn’t one to concede, on or off the pitch. She was starting to see that. 

He also was a shameless flirt. And she couldn’t afford to let him get her all riled up in the middle of work.

Ananya: Fine, you win 🤷‍♀️

Jude: Good girl :)

They both said goodbyes soon after, returning to their busy schedules.

In the evening, she sent him a quick message to wish safe travels. He responded with a relaxed selfie of him onboard the flight, making his patented ‘say cheese’ face. A sweet, goofy, handsome face. 

Next evening was Madrid’s away match. It was also Ananya’s most stressful day at work since she joined 5 months ago. She ended up missing the match but caught the highlights when she finally got a breather after sending her report. They looked rough - tackles, yellow cards, clashes all over the pitch. Madrid had drawn and missed out on 2 crucial points.

She checked her phone. The match had ended 90 mins ago. Where would he be and what to even say to him right now?

Ananya: Hey!

She dropped the message and quickly checked her laptop to see if there was any response from the New York team on the report yet. No new mail. It was already 10 pm but she would just have to wait in the office till they give an ok, or for 45 mins, whichever was sooner.

Her phone flashed.

Jude: Horrible day. Wanna punch someone.

Ananya: Punch my New York team, they pissed me off nonstop today. On your way back?

Jude: Oh nooo. Fuckin runway is down in this fuckall city. Red-eye flight tmrw then straight to training. Fuck my life.

Ananya: Wanna talk?

He face-timed her instantly. She rushed to find an empty cabin and answered his call.

It was quite a scene. It looked like someone had robbed him & trashed his hotel room. 

He was sat on the table, in front of his laptop, head resting on his forearms. That’s how she found him.

‘Hey Jude’

‘Hmphh.’

He groaned, still keeping his head buried.

‘Want me to sing it like the fans do?’

He whipped his head up. And she saw how upset he really was. Frown lines all over that pretty face. Sparkle missing from the coffee-brown eyes. Her heart yearned to comfort him.

‘Why should you? Why should the fans? I didn’t give them any reason to cheer for me today. I let them down. Let my team down. My coach, the staff, my family. I let everyone I care about down with that horrendous display today.’

She knew he wasn’t done, so she waited patiently while he gathered his breath and continued ranting.

‘We lost two crucial points because I fuckin missed sitters. SITTERS Ananya. Not one but two. Like I can score them with my eyes closed but nope. Had to be a total wanker today. When my team needed me.’

He stood up agitatedly and paced around the table. She could see he was still fully dressed, so was probably moping around in his room since he came back.

‘Did you speak to your mum?’

He took off his watch & jacket, throwing them on the bed. His shoes flew to some other corner of the room.

‘Yes. She says I wasn’t bad & that I should stop blaming myself. But she’s my mum - of course she would say that. I know I was fucking shit not just bad.’

He wrestled with his belt, peeling it off and was midway through pulling his jumper off when she spoke next. 

‘I would have to agree. Offensively you were poor today.’

Silence at the other end. He paused for 2 seconds, then took the jumper off in irritation and sat in front of her. Bare-chested. No one had said this to him tonight, even from the team or coaching staff. And obviously not his family. 

She kept her eyes firmly on his face. 

‘You wanted honesty right? So there you go. You didn’t make enough meaningful runs in the box, the link-up with the front line was not clicking and yes the finishing was unlike you. Should have scored at-least one of the two chances.’

That stung, especially coming from her. He wondered if it was the Madridista talking or the girl he was fascinated by. But at-least she wasn’t giving him any rosy crap.

‘Hmm.’

He stared at his hands. Eyes not meeting hers.

‘At the same time, I will also say that you were damn good defensively. All the tracking back, tackles, work rate, interceptions - on point. That’s a key part of your role and your team knows that. The fans can see that. Plus they smothered you every-time you touched the ball. Very physical tussle throughout. They really went for you. And the ref should have intervened sooner.’

He looked at her with such understanding and helplessness. The urge to hug him grew stronger.

‘The ref - what a stupid fuck. They should have had two red cards. See this?’

He pulled up his joggers to show her his badly bruised calf. And then his shoulder, where they had elbowed him twice. She felt like wrapping him up in a protective blanket. 

‘Oh Jude. Just put something on this ok, don’t let it be. But here is another thing - it will happen. They will come after you coz you are a key threat now. The refs won’t always intervene. You’ll need to take it in your stride and not be agitated on the field. That squaring up with the centre back - it was a yellow, you got away. Can’t react like that, can’t bump into them so aggressively. Don’t let it get to you, don’t let them win.’

He nodded absent-mindedly, still kicking himself for all his stupidities today. Her observations were bang on though. He was almost proud of her football knowledge. Not just smart in her work but an all around star. 

His grumpiness started to go down and the stiffness dissipated from his posture.

‘One last thing - what you have been doing so far is not normal. It’s the honeymoon period. You won’t score every game. A dip will come. But you will bounce back and still be great. Know why? Coz of how much you care, how much you want it, and how talented you are. If I can see it from the outside, then you must know it in your heart. Think about it, you’re 20. Last few months have been nuts. Absolute bonkers. A Ronaldo like debut even!’

That last line had the desired effect. His lips curved into a sweet smile. He knew she won’t use that analogy lightly, even for him. 

‘There he is - there’s the notorious happy boy I know.’

She smiled right back and he blew her a kiss, sending her heart reeling.

While she steadied herself, he finally noticed her surroundings.

‘Ur in office? It’s 10:30 pm.’

She groaned loudly.

‘Yup. Just sent my report. Waiting for a go ahead, then I can push off.

‘Agnes can pick you up if you want. It’s raining there no?’

‘Thanks for offering. But I will take a cab, no bother.’

‘It’s not a bother, really.’

‘Jude - I am a big girl. I’ll manage.’

She said it sweetly but firmly. He got the message. Starting to depend on him for any of these things was not what she wanted to do, so she was going to protect that space.

Ananya checked her mail again. Still no reply. She only had to wait 30 mins more then she could leave. He offered to be on call with her for that time. They spoke about random things for the next few mins - the distraction really helping them both.

Some time later, a knock on the cabin door startled her. She quickly minimised her video call screen when Arjun walked in with a cup of coffee and some cookies. Seeing that she was on a call, he left them on the table, waved at her and walked out.

Ananya watched him leave, and prayed to all gods known and unknown that Jude hadn’t seen who it was. But the silence on the line was deafening. She sighed and maximised the screen again.

The happy boy was gone. Replaced by a serious, hard face. Like someone had fouled him with a two-legged sliding tackle & run away with the ball.

‘The fuck was that?’

Jude said in a low, cold tone. Sending a chill down her back. She kept her tone steady & even in response.

‘Nothing. He’s my direct supervisor on this project. Both of us were working on this report and now we are waiting to hear back. He would have gone down to the cafeteria so just got me some coffee. That’s it. Nothing more.’

Jude only focused on a few words there - rest fell on deaf ears.

‘It’s just you two there right now?’

‘Well, on other floors there are more people. It’s investment banking after all. But on this floor, yes. Just us.’

Just us. Those words stung more than all the fouls on him that night. 

‘Does he know you are taken?’

The way he said taken sent shivers down her back, for entirely different reasons than a minute ago. His calculated, authoritative tone wasn’t helping either. 

‘We said we won’t tell anyone. So how could he know?’

‘You don’t have to tell him you are with me. But why can’t you say you are with someone? Off limits?’

He threw the logic straight back in her face. She thought about it for a few seconds. 

‘It will just invite too many questions. Too many asks for me to bring along the person at parties, get togethers blah blah. Can’t make excuses all the time, so easier to say nothing I guess.’

He turned his face away, frustrated but trying to keep a lid on it, as he thought of what to say next. But he whipped his face back at her when another unpleasant thought hit him.

‘Does he drive to work?’

She knew where this was going. He was too plain to read when he got like this. Myriad of emotions took over - she was feeling guilty, frustrated & tired at the same time. 

‘Yes. And before you ask, no, I wasn’t planning to take a ride back with him.’

‘But he has offered before, hasn’t he?’

She knew he had her beat. She wanted to protest that he was overreacting but logically and factually, he had her there. 

‘I knew it. Fuckin hate his guts I swear!’

Ananya wanted to hold him, shake him, even kiss him to make him stop talking and thinking like this. If only they were together right now.

He was thinking the same thing. If they were together, he would have grabbed her and kissed the living daylights out of her. Pouring all his frustrations into her lips.

‘Jude - you asked me to trust you. And I did. Do you not return the sentiment?’

He wanted to slam his fits on the table, but somehow held back. Didn’t she get it still?

‘Oh I trust you. It’s HIM I don’t trust.’

‘What could he do? Even if he asks me out, I will politely refuse. And we get on with our lives. How is it different from the zillion women who come on to you all the time? This is just one person.’

She was really pushing his buttons now.

‘Oh it’s different. Because that leech would be with you day and night and would think he can grow on you. Wear you down. Make you fall for him. He won’t stop trying, till he knows you are mine. Men operate like that, sweetheart. Wake up and smell the coffee.’

‘Gosh, you can be so thick. Just like all men.’

‘Excuse me?’

Was she trying to piss him off on purpose? Testing him was not a good idea tonight. 

‘Excused. Can’t you see I am not attracted to him? What will he do, some kind of voodoo to magically change my mind? In these 5 months, I have never once thought of him. Even casually. Never looked at him. And yes on paper he’s a great match for me but god damnit I don’t feel any spark there. He doesn’t make me go weak in the knees like y..’

She stopped herself just in time. His eyes watching her like a hawk. 

‘Go on.’

‘No. You don’t deserve to hear it right now.’

‘Disagree.’

‘Well you can shove your disagreement where the sun doesn’t shine.’

He smiled smugly, almost appreciatively, and leaned back in the chair, moving both arms behind his neck. Giving her a full view of his bare upper body - muscles & veins flexing & bulging at all the right places.

She knew what he was doing. And tried really hard to keep his eyes glued to his face. But her gaze wandered, making him more smug.

‘Gotta do something about that mouth of yours, no dove?’

Her lips opened and closed in vain for a comeback; he had thrown her off. 

‘Have half a mind to come straight to you when I land, wake you up in the middle of the night & keep you up. What say?’

Her skin started to feel hot and her hands gripped the edge of the chair to steady herself. 

‘Behave, pls. I am in the office.’

‘Not so sassy now, are we?’

‘As if you don’t like that.’

She whispered under her breath. 

‘Oh I love it. So much. But baby I want the sass to remain when you are wrapped around me, not just from afar.’

She sighed loudly, hating how she seemed to have no control on her senses every time she was around him. How easily he flustered her. 

‘Gosh you are just non-stop aren’t you.’

‘In every which way. You’ll find out soon.’

‘Juuuuude.’

She groaned warningly. Wondering how flushed she had gotten and how she would leave the cabin now. This boy was just too much.

At least he was smiling now. Smug, proud, conquering smile. Even that looked endearing on him, damn that prick. 

‘Okay okay. We are on for tomorrow night? My place?’

‘Yes - if no surprises at work.’

‘Cool, cya then. Let Agnes pick you up tmrw? Will be easier to enter the compound.

That seemed fair. She also noticed how he had framed it differently from earlier.

‘Ok, I will ping him directly.’

‘Great. And dove?’

‘Yes?’

He leaned in close to the screen. Soft expression. Genuine, sweet smile. Warm twinkling eyes. Handsomest of handsome face. She forgot she had been mad at him 30 seconds ago. 

‘Thanks for everything tonight. I…it was a rough day.’

She smiled from ear to ear, fighting the urge to stroke the screen of her phone where his face was. So near yet so far. 

‘Glad to see you are feeling better. Go talk to your mom now, she would be happy to see you are not in a foul mood anymore.’

45 mins were up some time ago. Still no new mail from NY, meaning she could leave now. But he somehow didn’t want to let her go. She didn’t seem to mind that either. 

It surprised him how quickly she had lifted his spirits. Just with a conversation. In the past, he would have found other outlets to channel his frustration, and a heart to heart talk would not have been in the consideration set.

But she was different. And he was also different with her. 

What he did next surprised both of them.

He leaned forward, smushed his lips against the laptop screen and kissed the spot where her face was, while making kissing noises.

Her heart skipped a couple of beats at the tenderness of the moment. And her hand went up involuntarily to stroke his face. Neither wanting to hang up still. 

But it was getting late and she wasn’t letting him arrange a ride back. So, he had to let her go.

‘Good night, babe. Ping me when you reach?’

‘Will do. Good night, Jude.’

They hung up grudgingly. Yet, neither moved from their seats. Reliving some of the moments in their heads. Tomorrow night just couldn’t come soon enough. 

...................................................................................

There you go. All this Jude content last few days drove me to write. As always, would love to hear your thoughts / comments / feedback. Hope you are liking the story & these two, lots more to come :)

[cinnamonest]

how do you think goro would feel about a childhood friend!darling?

Goro Akechi has a lot of hate in that heart of his, but other than the man he hates more than anything, there are two other things he hates the most: lack of control, and vulnerability.

He needs control over situations, over people, and when he can manage it, over the course of fate itself. The Metaverse and years of hard effort into a public persona he wears so flawlessly have granted him the sort of control he desires, for the most part.

He hates to be vulnerable, hates his own weaknesses, hates them being perceived by others.

You present both.

It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him. Really, up until the point you saw his name on screen one day, you admittedly remembered him as ‘that sad boy at school I was nice to when we were little,’ and your memories of him had all but faded into the background of your life, never thinking of him much after that until he pops back into your life.

At first, you think it can’t be the same person, surely. At least until the familiar — albeit aged a bit older than in your memories — face comes on the screen. It feels quite surreal. A drastic shift from the little boy you remember angrily sulking on the playground all by himself away from the other kids, whom you admittedly talked to mostly out of pity. Still, you felt like you bonded in the end, before he got whisked away when the relatives fostering him decided to dump him off onto someone else, thus forcing him to transfer schools.

You’re happy for him. He looks very happy now, you think, his situation must have improved. He’s even living in the city now apparently, just like you.

The positive coincidences stack atop each other when you actually get to see him.

Completely by chance, not seeking him out or anything, you just so happen to be walking home on an uncrowded street, and he just so happened to be coming back from a hit, now as normalized and mundane to him as any other work-related task — and you just so happen to meet right as you each turn a corner, perfectly scenic, as if ordained by fate.

And while Goro Akechi has spent a very long time by now perfecting the art of composure, what he sees takes him so far aback that even he lets the mask momentarily slip — completely freezing up, slack-jawed and stiff with shock and disbelief. There’s a moment where only silence passes, he looks at you like he’s seeing a ghost, an expression almost like horror managing to escape his automatic efforts to keep a straight face.

You don’t notice that part. You’re too caught up in the surprise and elation, gasping and smiling and rambling on about what a coincidence it is, and—

Do you remember me…?

The shock only lasts a split second. The composure is back, the mask pushed back into place, and with practiced mastery of charm, he bounces back near instantly.

Even in spite of the sudden onslaught of emotions and memories that feels like his very soul is being stabbed at, he manages to keep up the usual Prince-Charming act of his. Says the lines expected of him, so standard you could probably guess them before they come out of his mouth — wow, long time no see, what a coincidence, it’s good to see you, how have you been, all the generic phrases and lines one should say, just like the ones you provide in return. A back-and-forth dialogue predetermined by conventions and standards of normalcy and expectation as composed by a given social framework in which all humans live. You do mention that you’ve seen him on TV — for some reason, it makes his stomach feel like its twisting, but he gives you a humble-sounding reply all the same.

All as his heart pounds so heavily it feels like it’s going to burst though is chest. Adrenaline surges thought his veins and every nerve on his body feels like it’s frozen over, an ice-cold chill that runs through his blood, a ringing in his ears, even a lightheadedness that begins to take hold, his entire body reacting in shock and panic.

You fetch a piece of paper from your bag, scribble something down, hand it over to him — his own hand moves reflexively, as if out of his control, to take it. A series of numbers — oh. Your contact. You’re smiling now, saying something about how you would love to catch up sometime. Your voice sounds far away, his head feels like it’s spinning, but he still manages his signature soft smile and voice as he gives you yet another generic reply.

Sure, that would be wonderful.

A few more lines back-and-forth that he doesn’t even remember by the end of the day, his brain essentially giving replies on an auto-pilot means of conversation. He manages to make some excuse about work, churns out a farewell, briskly walks off with a noticeably deliberate fast pace.

You feel a little embarrassed, as you walk home. He seemed in a hurry to end the conversation. Perhaps it was presumptuous to give him a contact. He probably couldn’t care less. He’s a big, important person now, someone like that has no time for someone like yourself.

…

Your suspicions are more or less validated. He doesn’t contact you.

In fact, from the moment he gets home that day, he tries to forget the interaction entirely.

There’s multiple reasons why. For one, you present a potential obstacle, a burden, a risk. He can’t afford to have you complicating things, getting in his way. It takes some time for his heart to stop racing, and that alone irritates him — why do you get to have such a reaction from him, beyond his control?

Moreover, the emotions that hit him when he saw you were too much. Dangerously intense, something he can’t allow to weigh on him, doesn’t have the time to focus on.

To be frank, those emotions were largely negative anyway. The mere sight of your face stirs up all sorts of memories from that era of his life, most of which were deeply unpleasant. There’s a deep-rooted bitterness that rises up in his stomach, old emotions he’s worked so long to suppress, and you came and dug them up in just a few brief minutes. In truth, he thought about you very often back then — he never really got to say goodbye to you (even if, he often bitterly thought, you never cared that much about him anyway), and he had to force himself to forget you over time, and yet you’ve come and undone his efforts.

And finally — the thought of you makes him feel a new emotion, one he does not like. Something like anxiousness, fear, and in turn, anger at himself and you alike for inducing such a feeling. You stand as a sort of weakness, a single unstable factor in a world where he feels like he has some degree of a grasp of control on nearly everything — you feel uncertain, unsteady, out of his reach… no, it’s not just that. You feel unsafe. You have knowledge and memories of him that no one else does, you have seen him at his weakest, and that makes him feel far more vulnerable then he can stand.

And yet, he saves your number to his phone all the same. Lets it sit there.

Most of the time, it’s easy to ignore. He is a busy person, he can keep himself distracted. Sometimes, though, in the odd hours of the night when his emotions are at their peak, he types a message, two, a dozen, he loses count — only to shake his head and come to his senses, huffing in frustration and holding the backspace down until it’s all deleted, cursing himself internally for even coming close to doing something so foolish.

You keep coming up in his thoughts, an emotion he can’t pretend is anything but yearning feels like a knot in his chest, yet the very thought of you makes him feel sick to his stomach. The conflict between the emotions is unbearable, makes him lose sleep, makes him lose focus.

You who knew him when he was this quiet, sullen, embittered child — you were nice to him, one of the only people who showed him genuine kindness back then — you who certainly knows that the charming act in front of the cameras is merely that, an act, a mask, a lie. It feels as if playing a game with one’s own cards facing outwards towards the opponent, completely exposed, laid bare. The act can’t work on you when you know what he’s really like, know his pains and vulnerabilities, have the potential to strike at the weakest parts of him.

Nor do you fall under his realm of control. The means he has for control relies on his ability to enforce it — means to kill and ruin lives. What he wants from you, though — at least, what he wanted from you back then, he won’t let himself even consider the matter now — falls entirely out of the realm of how he likes to control people, the usual purpose for which he desires the manipulation of others — power, advancement in his goals, to snake his way inside to strike.

It's all confusing. Irritating. It's outside the realm of what he has an easy way to manipulate, and that means he's at a disadvantage, that you have an upper hand, and he can't stand for that.

Still, he wonders about you. Every time a camera faces his way, he wonders if you’ll see the filming. When he makes posts to the little page he runs that the fans eat up, he wonders if you visit it too, if you’re one of those thousands of faceless followers. He wonders how often you think about him. He wonders about the day the two of you ran into each other for the first time in so long — did you go home, and look him up online? How long did you spend doing so? What did you read? Did your view of him change, positively, negatively?

And of course, he thinks about you and your life. What have you been up to, since then? Where has your path in life taken you? You probably have friends. You probably have a partner too. You’re someone who always seemed to be loved by others — he still recalls perfectly the burning bitterness in his stomach when he saw your happiness, your family, your friends, the things you had that he did not. How he resented you for it — he still does, even if he tries to tell himself such emotions are childish. Sometimes he almost thinks he hates you, even if in the end he always finds that he can’t.

And worst of all, he finds that the mere thought of you changes how he behaves.

When he’s at a lower-end news outlet interview, he doesn’t put quite as much energy in… until it occurs to him that there’s always a chance you’ll see it, and he finds himself sitting up straighter, putting in more effort into being charming and witty for the camera.

He almost says something in another interview, but it occurs to him that he doesn’t know how you feel on the matter, and he finds himself taking what was originally a strongly-worded response in his head and neutralizing it as much as possible, to avoid upsetting you should you see it and disagree with him. He doesn't even realize it until the words are out of his mouth.

You do that to him. He who has come to think of himself as so far above others, and yet you — some child from long ago who just so happened to find him again and speak to him for no more than a few minutes — influence his actions, you consume his thoughts. You control him, and you don’t even know it, nor did you have any intention to. And even though he recognizes it, even though he tries to put it to rest and forget you entirely, he can’t bring himself to do it, can’t tap the screen to delete the contact.

It’s infuriating. He can’t stand it. The fact that you do what you do to him so effortlessly leaves him seething and stewing in a rage you probably don’t even realize he’s capable of. And that much he’s acutely aware of as well. You know more of the “real” him than anyone else, you saw him in a phase when he was always pouty and melancholic — yet even then, you don’t know the half of it, don’t realize just how much malice and fury rests beneath the calm outward surface, nor how deep it runs.

He’s not a delusional sort, he’s very self-aware, and he knows how ridiculous the thoughts he’s having are — yet he has them anyway. It’s what, three in the morning, and here he is sitting on the edge of is bed, hunched over in the dark with his face in his hands, stewing in bitterness because he just can’t stop thinking about you. Yes, he knows the thought is absurd, yet he allows it anyway — allows himself to blame you, to resent you for it as if it were an intentional act on your end, to think of you as audacious, having committed some grand transgression against him.

He’s a celebrity, a genius, he has powers unfathomable to the average person — and here you are, you’re nobody, making him think about you. The more he gives in and allows himself to slip into that way of thinking, regardless of how nonsensical he knows it is, the angrier and angrier he gets, the greater the malice that swells in his chest—

—and the darker his thoughts become on what to do with you.

If he forces himself to think it through reasonably, of course, he realizes that you’ve done nothing wrong, that you’ve been nothing but kind to him, and maybe, just maybe, a part of him even feels guilty for any unwholesome, sinister thoughts run through his head — you don’t deserve anything bad to happen to you, and he’s being embarrassingly childish for such boorish, overly-simplistic thoughts like keeping you and taking you away and hurting you and making you pay. Particularly the last — you’ve done nothing wrong, nothing to deserve any harm, and in the rational part of his mind, he knows this.

But if he were to allow those petulant feelings to take over…

If he let the irrational resentment and yearning and attachment and bitterness take over, if he stopped being rational about it, if he just acted on impulses and feelings alone, then he would have something to make you pay for. To make you the object of all the negative emotions that plague him, make you an outlet for his crippling desperation and rage and affection and covet and pain and misery and yearning — yes, he could put all those emotions into you, unload that burden and force you to take it off his shoulders, force you to be something for him to have to himself and use for his own desires and ease of his pain like he always wanted back then.

Maybe he never stopped wanting that, even if he forced every thought of you to the back of his mind for so many years. It was easier to deny the yearning when he could tell himself he would never see you again. He doesn't have that to hold him back anymore — he stares at the screen of his phone that burns his eyes in the darkness, knowing contact with you is a few mere taps away.

But even back then, he wasn’t so stupid as to not realize you interacted with him because he was pitiful and pathetic and obviously troubled and you were the sort of sweet person that went out of your way to be nice to such other children. He was acutely aware of that fact, it irritated him then, it irritates him now. Yet he latched on like a leech anyway, a fact that makes his face feel hot with embarrassment when he recalls how his child self clung to you so strongly, so pathetically. He couldn’t help it. He was so weak, back then.

But here he is, spending hours of his time thinking about you — can he really say he’s less weak to you now?

It’s not as if it’s the first time he had dark thoughts regarding you. Of course, he envied your life back then, but far more than that, he envied you. To have you to himself, as if an object from which he derived happiness that should be just for him. How upset he was when you were kind to people who weren’t him, spent time with others. Even back then, as a child, you have no idea the sort of things he crafted in his head, elaborate fantasies where everyone important to you died off somehow so he could have you all to himself. Fantasies that soothed both his bitterness for you and his desire for you — let you feel pain like he had felt, make sure you couldn’t think yourself better than him, while still ending up something all for him alone to have and enjoy for himself, ensure your kindness was just for him.

Only back then, he had no power to act on such fantasies.

Now…

…

…

...And one night, his resistance finally breaks.

You know what? Maybe he does deserve that. After all the effort he’s put in, after all the things he’s endured, maybe he does deserve to have something all for himself, something he truly wants, something he can secure and know with certainty won’t ever leave his side — you can’t if you don’t have the option.

Maybe you’ll hate him for it. Maybe he’d deserve it if so. But if you do, well, he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

His fingers move without having to really think much about it. Generic, typical lines, just like when he spoke with you. Apologizing for the delay, but surely you understand he’s busy and all, so on and so on. He only pays attention to the very last line, as his fingers slow down in their typing with nerves and anticipation.

>Would you still be up for getting together sometime?

[faggot-greg-house]

house is autistic i will accept no criticism

i have so many thoughts about house and autism. this might be the most unhinged post on my tumblr yet but here we go so house had the illusion of normalcy forced on him from a young age. i dont think thats like, full canon, but house talks about how his father abused him on more than one occassion and talked about how he was never satisfied or happy with house no matter what. so i truly dont think its a far reach to say that he would not have tolerated a "weird child." the thing that i think, though, is that all of his actions are a response to the fact that he's not particularly great at masking. he's afraid if he lets people close to him he won't be able to hide the fact that he's "weird" (aka bad). he intentionally pushes people away with his weird creepy comments and being an asshole and that's both him masking (if he's aggressively mean all the time no one will bother to look further) and a way of coping with the fact that he cant mask. the more he pushes people away the less likely it is that they'll see that he cares about things and that he's not "normal" like he's always been told. i also think that as the show went on, he got less and less concerned about masking. he constantly stims, he hyperfocuses and burns out, he panics about change, he treats his fellows a lot more like family. once he got to a point in his life where his "weirdness" is not something he can be ruined for (he's tenured and he has people who will fight for him) he found himself a lot more able to be aggressively autistic, even if he struggles with it due to trauma.

a huge Autism Moment in the show for me is when foreman quits and house fires chase. house has been afraid his whole life of showing who he actually is, as mentioned. his fellows, though, are his People, they knew all of his shit and they never ran awayy from it. they didnt question who he was and what he knew, only his methods, and they were willing to fight back against him (something he's shown he loves). but then foreman quits because he "doesnt want to be like house" and this is house's worst nightmare. this is exactly why he had normalcy beaten into him, because being weird only makes it that people will run away once they know you. he dared to let people see a bit of who he actually is and how he thinks and acts and foreman essentially said "i cant stand to be like you." on top of that fear, his team became Different. he doesnt know if chase or cameron thought the same things as foreman, if they were also judging him or hating him for being autistic. it sent him into fucking panic mode because how is he supposed to trust them when he doesnt know if they agree with foreman!!!!! and even if he could, the team is Different and its for a reason he cant control and he cant just go back to normal. his method of interviewing his new fellows also shows this - how is he supposed to be able to tell if someone will be okay with who he is and if they'll work well together based off a short intervew where he's almost certainly masking the whole time???? anyway. to end this absolutely unhinged post ive put together an inconclusive list of autistic traits and actions from house, and i want to say that so much of this is him being written off as an antisocial eccentric genius and, while he is an ass that cant be debated, it clearly runs deeper than that!!!!

he doesnt understand how ppl feel (he repeatedly talks about how small talk is like a guessing game for him and he doesnt know what to say)

he doesnt like to be touched (for a lot of the show people just do Not touch him, wilson excluded)

he stims constantly and he needs Sensations

he's blunt, rude, somewhat monotone, etc

he has a hard time making friends

he has a hard time saying what he feels (he'd rather joke or be mean than analyse his emotions)

he has a routine that he Sticks To (even thgh its not exactly the same because of patients etc, he goes to work late, he talks to the same people, he sits in his same office. he's shown coming to work sick at one point and he doesnt rly go on vacation. plus when cuddy took his bloodstained carpet it was such a fundamental change to his life that he couldnt deal)

he notices Everything (yes ik this is a sherlock holmes thing but consider sherlock holmes - also autistic)

he has a method and train of thought that works for him and he is unwilling to break from it (he's shown at least once stopping the fellows from writing on his whiteboard, and after he loses the og three he continues trying to hold ddx's because its how he Thinks)

[shortbcofkoffee]

Somewhere That's Green

Word Count: 912 | CW: Implied Child Abuse, Burns

Harley Quinn & Joker Jr | Joker/Harley Quinn

Ao3 Link

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Summary:

“Mama?” Junior tapped her knee, bringing her back to reality. Harley startled a little, earning a giggle from her little guy. “You just keep being a good boy, JJ.” She ran a thumb over his cheek. “I will, mama.” Harley kissed him on the forehead. “Let’s go play with Bud and Lou, okay?”

-or-

Harley just wants to have a sense of normalcy

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Harley, get him down,” Joker waved as he walked out of the room.

Harely perked up from her chair. “Alright, puddin’! Have a good rest!”

She hopped up and bounced over to the table JJ was restrained to. He was slumped, panting, and giggling through his breaths. Harley pouted at him and pressed the button to lower the table until it was even with the ground. She unsealed the metal restrains revealing the fresh burns under there.

She tsked. “Aw, JJ, sweetie.” She pulled her son up into a hug. “You are so good at making your daddy mad.”

JJ weakly hugged back. “M’ sorry, mama,” he giggled.

“You betta be. You’re such a good kid most of the time, these slip-ups are so sad.” She pulled away and held his tear-stained cheeks in her palms. His smile and eyes were wide, his face was pale. He was adorable. “Oh, I can’t stay mad at you, Sonny! You look just like your daddy, it’s too cute!”

She tugged at his cheeks. “I can see it now, my two boys runnin’ around, fightin’ the bat together, aw! It’s too damn sweet!” She hugged his head to her chest, swinging him around a little.

“Me and Daddy?” He asked excitedly. 

Harley nodded. “You just gotta stop actin’ up so much.” She looked at JJ’s wrist. A burn wrapped around it where the restraint had dug into his skin. It was nasty, his skin was peeling and red. There was a small twist in her stomach. “JJ, baby? Can mommy tell you a secret?”

Junior nodded.

“And you can’t tell Daddy, not yet.”

Junior’s eyes widened more than they already were. “Keep a secret from Daddy?”

Harley pursed her lips. “Yeah.. Just think of it as a surprise, we can’t tell him quite yet.”

Junior perked up. “Yeah! I love surprises!”

Harley tussled JJ’s hair and led him to the dining table. There was aloe vera in the fridge, good for cooling burns. She grabbed bandages too. “Good boy.” She sat with him, spreading the gel over his injuries. “You know I love our little family and our little house.”

“Mm-hm!”

Harley frowned a bit. “But I kinda want a real house. Ya’ know, a yard big enough for Bud and Lou, a finished kitchen full ‘a Tupperware. I want Mr. Jay to come home and hang up his coat, and I’d kiss ‘im on the cheek and ask about work. I could help you with homework and make you dinner. I’d wear poodle skirts, I’d curl my hair… Doesn’t that sound nice?”

JJ’s head tilted, he stared at her for a moment. “That doesn’t sound very funny.”

Harley chuckled. “You’re right, it’s not. But a girl can dream.” She finished wrapping her son's wounds in bandages and smiled at him. He couldn’t stop smiling, Harley knew how much that started to hurt. “But I guess it’s not necessary. I got all I could want here!” 

She gestured around the room at the fake house. Joker did this for her, the model house, keeping JJ. She knew part of this was just for Batman, but the parts that were for her gave her a little hope. Maybe after this, they could really settle down. Just Mr. and Mrs. Joker and their son Junior. Just a normal family from the suburbs. Not fighting, no pain, just love and laughter. Somewhere that’s green. She could have all of that, she was so close if any of this was proof. All she needed now was to stay on his good side, he was easier to convince when he was in a good mood.

Junior had told them about Bruce Wayne, and oh, was Harley jealous. Bruce Wayne got a break from being Batman; he got to have fun with his kids, at least until the Joker got to them. Being Harley Quinn was a full-time job; there were no breaks. She never got to keep friends, she couldn’t have family. She was happy The Bat decided to donate Junior, he really was the best thing to ever happen to her. It was her first taste of family in a long time, and she wouldn’t change anything. Her family felt almost complete. 

She could picture it now, mid-day on a Saturday, she’s cleaning the kitchen. She looked out the window and Joker was mowing the lawn. Junior sat in the TV room, Lou’s head on his lap while he leaned on Bud’s side. He fell asleep there after playing outside and she didn’t have it in her to move him. She’d wake him up for lunch though. But right now, she had to keep the kitchen clean. After church tomorrow some of the girls were coming over for book club.

“Mama?” Junior tapped her knee, bringing her back to reality.

Harley startled a little, earning a giggle from her little guy. “You just keep being a good boy, JJ.” She ran a thumb over his cheek.

“I will, mama.”

Harley kissed him on the forehead. “Let’s go play with Bud and Lou, okay?”

Junior excitedly jumped out of his chair and pulled her up by the arm. She followed his lead to where their puppies slept. When she looked at him like this, he really looked happy. Bouncing and excited, just to be with his mama, just to play with the hyenas. It’d be okay for now, Harley decided. Once this Bat business was over, it’d all be okay. 

[iridiss]

Aaron’s such an underrated character on Aphblr tbh. He’s become one of my favorite characters in the cast as I rewatch more and more of Mystreet. Aaron will tease you, but he’s also one of the best characters in the cast to go to for emotional support. He’ll tell you as it is, smack you upside the head when you’re being crazy and shake you back to rational normalcy, but then he’ll sigh and tell you you’re gonna be just fine and everything’s gonna be okay. He is the number one (and on occasion only) holder of brain cells in the whole neighborhood. He’s the most sensible, and often the word of wisdom/rationale, much more so than Katelyn or Lucinda or Zane or Laurance are. This can often make him come off as a serious character, but he’s still down to clown! He just does it in a different way!

He’s supposed to contrast Aphmau’s louder, more extroverted, playful, ditzy, eccentric personality, by being quieter, more rational, more responsible, more cautious and careful, more reserved, a word of wisdom to contrast her crazier, chaotic energy and pranking and punning and ponies and general whimsical tomfoolery. But that does not, by any means, mean that he is not participating in the antics. Just because he’s the only one who thought to bring a first aid kit and a safety harness doesn’t mean he’s not jumping off that cliff with everyone else in this crazy cast. You tell him to dig, he’ll bring shovels. He may sigh or say “oh god not again” when shit goes awry or the gang decides they are Dead Set on doing something insane for the 10,000th time, but by god he will commit. Aphmau kidnaps a baby and goes on a mad chase for a comedic bit, and he never complains about how “stupid” and “reckless” and “obnoxious” his girlfriend is, he just says in a completely calm tone, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go save my girlfriend.” And he chases after her immediately lmao.

Aaron enables the antics and participates in them, and if you rile him up or challenge him damn well enough, he will throw himself into the group antics with an unbeatable, fiery fervor. If the boys decide they’re all gonna pretend to be Santa and his elves in order to cause prankster-variety chaos one day, Aaron would join in and go right alongside them. He’s here to make sure it all goes to plan. He’s here to make sure you don’t break any bones when you jump off that roof like a madman. He’s here to help you run away from the cops, help you break into the building. He may chide you for doing it in the first place (“do you even know what you’re doing?!”), and if needed he may drag you back home if you’re barking up the wrong tree and it’s nothing but detrimental to you, but if it’s viable for the bit, he absolutely will show you how to break a window correctly.

And he can be a little shit if he wants to, too!! He can snicker at you and tease you and make quips, and I bet if Aaron himself dedicated his energy to it, he would make the best of pranks. He’s not an asshole that’s full of himself and too serious and stoic and cool for being silly, he’s not a whiny bitch, he’s actually very incredibly supportive. At times, much more so than Garroth, Laurance, Zane, Katelyn, etc. He’s reliable, he trusts Aphmau a lot, he knows how shittily Aphmau cooks and still does his damndest to support her, and he will force himself to eat her biohazardous cooking just to make her happy. He is the chef of the household. He’s good with animals, animals love him. He’s a kind guy!!! He’s just got his own unique energy and vibe to him, that no one else in the cast really has, and I really appreciate that core trait of him. He’s a grounding character. He’s probably got his own ways that he’s weird and eccentric that are a lot more hidden than Aphmau’s. If we didn’t have Aaron, the entire neighborhood would have burned down ages ago, ten times over.

I genuinely do believe he’d make a fantastic dad, being a combination of a soft and gentle and tenderly loving man, and responsible enough to always bring safety helmets and bandaids and snacks, very supportive of his kids development, emotionally available as a great source of genuine advice and wisdom while still getting plenty of encouragement. He would probably want to make an effort to be a very different parent than his father was, and since he was emotionally neglected as a child, he would refuse to do anything similar to his own kids. He’d be a good influence (and Aphmau would be the bad influence LOL)

He’s kind of a teddy bear of a man <3 If he weren’t so heavily wolf-themed, I’d say a bear would be the best animal that’d fit his personality and energy. He’d protect you like a bear, he can be really fucking terrifying if he wants to, but he’d only use that power to make sure Aphmau gets what she wants and needs to make her happy. He’d never use that terrifying intimidation factor of his on his friends and loved ones, never as anything more than a single look that has a derailing Garroth/Laurance/Travis/Dante/Gene/etc. get right the fuck back on track and start backpedaling, like if they started saying or doing something careless or stupid that made Aphmau feel worse. He’s quiet and reserved with that tired, grounded, solid energy of a bear. He’s a big guy. But he can also be really soft and supportive and sweet. He takes more time to come out of his shell and let down his walls, but when he does, he really dedicates his life to the few people he manages to trust. And it’s that thick outer shell that makes Aphmau a good match for him, because she’s kinda the only character in the cast who’s able to bring him out of his shell so easily.

She’s kind and extremely friendly, unstoppably and unendingly so. She’s sweet and naive and selfless in the way that proves to Aaron that she’s not trying to get anything out of him, she’s not lying to him, and she would never neglect him or just…abandon him like a discarded toy once she’s through with him. She’s not scared of him. She sees the best in everybody, and sees that there’s something more underneath that scary, prickly outer shell of defenses that’s managed to push everyone else away and keep the likes of Laurance and Garroth and Katelyn on their toes. She sees what no one else does, she sees the true beauty and the kind heart he has underneath. Even in MCD, when he’s literally held a sword to her throat and threatened her life multiple times, she can still sense that he’s full of shit and there’s a kind heart underneath, and if she does a little cultivating, extends a hand of gentle kindness and genuine affection, a kind of love and affection he’s never really seen before and been starved of all his life… it works wonders, and he steps out to meet her. He changes, drastically, because she sees the best in him, and that makes him want to become the best version of himself that he can be, for her. Where he might hate himself and grapple with feeling unloveable, Aphmau is there to remind him none of its true. And so he tries to keep her nightmares away in return, sticking by her side, taking care of her, cooking for her, encouraging her to keep doing everything she does best, defends her against the bullies that make her feel like she’s not good enough, and takes her by the shoulders to remind her that she is good enough, and all the voices out there and in her head that tell her she’s not are full of shit. Because he knows first-hand, better than most, the good things she brings to those around her and the wonderful presence she is in others lives, and how wonderful she is as a person. He trusts her. He’s here to guide her along in her path to becoming her fullest self, to give her that last big nudge to boost her along the way. Likely on a cosmic level, mainly, with her becoming Irene.

He’s very sweet, he’s sweet to Aphmau, Aphmau’s even sweeter to him, and genuinely I’ve learned to love the big, fluffy guy and I really appreciate him and his impact on the other characters the more and more I see of him. I don’t really know how I would enjoy Mystreet or MCD or the Aphverse without him. If he were real, I would love to give him one big hug, I bet his hugs would be amazing (topped only by Garroth’s rib-crushing bear hugs)

[andreafmn]

12 Days of Ficmas ❅ Day 4

Word Count: 1.6K Paring:  Lip Gallagher x Fem!Reader Prompt @a-cure-for-writers-block:  mothering their S/Os younger siblings and making sure they're getting enough to eat

Summary:  Lip Gallagher has had a hell of a year, and most of the time he doesn't think he deserve the mercy he's been shown. But (Y/N) will stop at nothing to make sure he and his family know they are taken care of. And he knows it.

A/N: a bit late, but still published. Also, this is very short and sweet and does not follow the canon after season 5. Kind of went off path to give Lip a bit of a quicker redemption. Hope y'all enjoy!

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“Yo, Lip,” Ian’s sleepy voice rang through his brother’s phone. “Uh, your girlfriend is over here, and I think she’s gone crazy.” 

“What you mean?” Lip chuckled as he rubbed his hands together to warm them up. “‘Cause that’s a lot coming from you.” 

“Very funny,” he laughed sarcastically. “No, but she made Christmas puke on the house, and she’s been cooking nonstop since this morning. She hounded us all morning until we ate breakfast and wouldn’t stop until we sat down at the table.” ” 

Lip couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face as he pictured his girlfriend with her face dirtied by food, her hair tied back and away from her face, and her voice carrying around the house as she made sure everyone had eaten. It was one of the things he loved about her and one of the reasons he was glad she had come into his life. “Look, I’ll be home soon,” he chuckled. “Can you just make sure she actually eats? I know she’s gonna forget.” 

“Fine,” Ian groaned. “Just hurry up.” 

(Y/N) had come into Lip’s life at a moment when he was sure his life would have gone down the rails. She has become his sense of normalcy in his less-than-normal life. He had needed something to ground him back to earth, and that was exactly what she had done. After being so close to rock bottom he could taste the soil on the ground, she had been the only one that had been able to bring him back to his feet.  

As he got off the L, he wondered what she could have ever seen in him. She was smart and beautiful and a complete juxtaposition to the man he was. She was sunshine where he was rain, she was happiness where he was gloom, she was future while he was stuck in the past. And she was everything he never thought he needed. 

The moment he reached the house, he could hear the chatter from his family and the smell of (Y/N)’s cooking. Inside, Liam, Carl, and Ian were hypnotized by the TV while (Y/N) and Debbie talked away in the kitchen. 

Ian had not lied. The Gallagher house had been decorated like it had never been before. From garlands to stockings above the fireplace, to a massive Christmas tree in front of the stairs, it was a scene that had never lived inside that house. “Yo, you weren’t kidding, huh?” Lip chuckled as he shook off his jacket. “Didn’t think we’d ever have these many decorations.” 

“And presents,” Carl grinned. “Check under the tree.” 

Just like his younger brother had pointed, under the pine rested a couple of boxes wrapped in kraft paper. Each of them had every one of the Gallagher’s names written on them and a glittering red bow around them. It truly was more than Lip could have ever expected.  

“Ian, did she eat something?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “She’s also been pecking at everything she’s doing.”

“Alright, thanks.”

Taking the scenery in, Lip walked into the kitchen to find (Y/N) wearing a dirty apron and plates balanced on her arms. 

“You’re home,” she smiled, kissing his cheek as she walked past him to give the three boys each a plate. “Good. There’s a plate for you in the microwave. I made some turkey sandwiches for lunch. Light enough to not fill you guys up for dinner but strong enough to tide you over until then.” 

“Thanks, (Y/N),” the boys chorused before digging into their sandwiches and focusing back on the TV. 

“This is so good, (Y/N),” Debbie exclaimed from the breakfast table. “I don’t know how you’re not studying to be a chef.” 

“I cook for fun, not for work,” the young woman smiled. “That’s what engineering school is for.” 

“I’m just saying,” she shrugged. “If the genius stuff doesn’t work out, you could definitely be a chef.” 

“Thank you, Debs,” (Y/N) responded. “And speaking of school, how was your last final, babe? I know this semester has been a bit hard.”

Understatement of the century, Lip had thought. He couldn’t understand how he had not been expelled after everything he had done the year before. He had been so close to losing it all. Had it not been for (Y/N) stopping him before he smashed Youens car and speaking up on his behalf at the disciplinary meeting, he was sure he would have gotten a worse punishment than a semester suspension. She had been the saving grace he didn’t know he needed, and she was the reason he understood he needed help. 

Lip had inherited more than a hard life from his parents, he’d fallen victim to their addictive genetics and gone off the deep end with a bottle of liquor in hand. But somehow, she had been there to pull him up while he was down and walk beside him as he got back onto the right path. She stayed with him as he rebuilt himself into the man people believed he was. 

“I think it went pretty well,” he said before taking a bite of his sandwich. “Won’t know until after the break, but if midterms were anything to go by, I did good.” 

“That’s good. I’m pretty sure you did very well,” she smiled as she sat beside him, placing a hand on his and a coffee cup in front of his plate. “And I know you’re tired, but I’m gonna need you to help me prep the table for dinner tonight. Kev, V, and the girls are coming over. Fiona can’t make it, but she’ll try for actual Christmas Day or New Year's.” 

“You’ve got everything planned out already, don’t you?” Lip chuckled. “Not that I am surprised in any way, shape or form.” 

“I would have told you earlier, but I wanted you to focus on your exams,�� she said before turning to the boys in the living room. “Hey, guys! Remember to wash your dishes when you’re done! I’m gonna need them for tonight.” 

“Yes, (Y/N),” they chorused back. 

“You got them very well trained,” Debbie laughed. “Where have you been all our lives?” 

“Just on the other side of town,” the girl smiled. “Now hurry and finish eating. We’ve got work to do.” 

After everyone finished their lunch and the how was suddenly dispersed of children, (Y/N) and Lip set off to work. While she waltzed around the kitchen, he rearranged the formal dining area to fit all the guests. As he walked around the house, the young man wanted to laugh. He remembered a time when that type of domesticity would have sent him running, searching for the easiest way to drown his fears of commitment and stability. But there he was, setting tables for a dinner party that his girlfriend had cooked, and he didn’t feel the jittery need to escape. He didn’t feel the anxious desire to feel alcohol burn its way down his throat and fill him with a mirage of confidence. He wanted to stay. 

“Hey,” he whispered after he had finished his task, snaking his arms around her waist and kissing her cheeks. “Thanks for doing this.” 

“Of course,” she smiled, leaning into the comfort and warmth of his touch. “Do you think there’s enough food I don’t know if I should set out some snacks for the kids while the turkey is finished. Maybe dinner is too late for Jemma and Amy. I should set some snacks out.” 

“(Y/N), baby,” he chuckled. Lip flipped her around, kissing her lips softly to stop her rambling. “There’s enough food, and they should be starving by dinner. You worked hard enough on all these dishes, they need to be eaten.” 

“And they will, but…” 

“You really enjoy mommying them, don’t you?” Lip grinned lovingly. “You know they’re not kids anymore –other than Liam. The other ones are all teenagers, they know how to get food when they’re hungry.” 

“I know that. But I just wanna make sure they know there’s someone here that cares about them other than you now that Fiona’s gone,” she admitted, her eyes falling onto the hands she pressed to his chest. “And I want them to like me, Lip. I’m in it for the long run, babe.” 

“If there’s one thing I can assure you, it’s that the Gallagher family loves you,” he smiled. His hand caressed her cheek softly, and it surprised him that only a year before, his knuckles would have been ripped and bloodied. But not with her. Never with her. “And if you keep cooking like this for them, they’ll make sure you’re here forever.” 

“And what about you? Would you want me to stay forever?” 

Lip couldn’t help the smile that spread across his mouth. As he stared into her eyes, it took everything inside him not to spoil the plans he had for Christmas morning. He wanted to give her all the reassurance she could need with the ring he had hidden deep in his underwear drawer. But when he had a plan, it was hard to divert from it. “How could I want anything else?” he grinned. “Now, why don’t we finish up here so we can have a little treat before dinner ourselves?” 

“Philip Gallagher,” she exclaimed at his advance, slapping his chest playfully. “I have too much work to do to be thinking about that.” 

“Come on, I’ve only been thinking about this all day,” he groaned. “It’s the only thing that got me through that test.” 

“Then you can wait a bit more,” she laughed. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while, baby. All good things come to those who wait.” 

And, at that moment, she had no idea how much truth there was in that statement. 

Next ->

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[f4ggydog]

Not sure how specific you like your asks- but thinking about Lottie telling Tai they need to fuck because “its what the wilderness wants” and Tai is like 'no wtf’ but then Van is all “I thought you believed in this stuff now. If you love me you'll do it”. Cue Tai and Lottie doing it while Van watches/cuddles Tai. Really enjoy your writing! It is always very compelling.

ONCE AGAIN WE ARE SO BACK AND MY WRITING IS COMING BACK TO ALL THAT MISSED ME (also I’m glad u like my writing anon and I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long genuinely!)

TAILOTTIE (while van gets cucked) (kind of a threesome but van helps tai out) 🔞

“no fucking way,” tai immediately declares. “you can’t be fucking serious. i’m not doing it. fuck that.”

“i expected you to be reluctant,” lottie responds. “but it’s for your own good, tai. besides, you know I don’t make the rules around here.”

“so you expect me to believe that the wilderness said I needed to get fucked by you? yeah, no. you’re just a fucking creep. i don’t believe you.”

“tai, don’t be like that. look, i promise I’ll make this feel really good for you. it’s what you deserve. it’s for your health, happiness and prosperity.”

“happiness!? you think I’m fucking happy about this!?”

taissa turns to van.

“why are you just sitting there, van? cant you talk some fucking sense into her? honestly like?”

“i think you’re overreacting a bit.” van gives her opinion. “i think if lottie tells us to do something, we should do it.”

“oh, so now you’re on her side!? fuck this. fuck the both of you. this is so fucked up.”

van stands up from the floor, grabbing their girlfriend by the waist and squeezing her so hard tai might earn bruises.

“lottie’s right. it might seem excessive, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. and if something bad could happen just because you can’t handle a little sex, then I’m not willing to risk it.”

“you’re unbelievable. is this not considered cheating to you? aren’t you concerned that this is a little too close to infidelity?”

“not if I consent to it.” van smiles and places a kiss on taissa’s cheek. “come on, baby girl. it’s just one time and then we can talk about it later, okay?”

“v-van,” taissa stammers. “she’s brainwashed you. she’s turned you into something that you’re not. this is insane. I-I’m not participating in this.”

“you don’t have a choice.” van tugs at the collar of taissa’s shirt. “look, I’m gonna be there next to you. you’re not gonna do this alone.”

“help me with her shirt, van.” lottie steps closer to the duo.

“yeah, I’ve got her.” van listens like an obedient little disciple. taissa wriggles against van’s touch, actively resisting and trying to break free. she thinks lottie’s full of shit. she’s out of her mind. she’s gone delusional with power. and taissa wants no part in her delusions.

van manages to rip tai’s shirt off. they briefly apologize for their roughness before lottie assists them with getting those beige pants off of taissa. taissa curses the both of them out, shuddering and trembling and creating more difficulty to get undressed.

“sorry that she’s so reluctant,” van says to lottie.

“I understand her. I really do. just let her know that we’ll take care of her.”

taissa’s infuriation and vexation quickly switches to great fear as she’s pushed onto the ground. lottie slips her hand into taissa’s black underwear, slipping them down to her ankles.

“p-please tell her to stop, van. please, please. this is so fucking wrong. you know it is.”

“it’s okay, baby. it’s going to be okay.” van wraps her arms around her girlfriend and hoists taissa onto her lap. “just lay on me while i watch, okay? you can take it.”

“so pretty,” lottie compliments with a smile devoid of normalcy. it’s a smile masked by sugar and sweetness, when it’s entitlement in reality. “you’ll look so good on my cock.”

“guys, can we talk about this?” tai begs. “t-this is so fucked up. seriously, stop. please, this isn’t right. van, make her-“

van silences tai with a kiss and a finger to the lips. “just take her, baby. I’ll help you take her.”

once lottie’s undressed herself, she steps forward and rubs the tip of her dick against taissa’s folds.

“she’s gonna be so tight,” lottie groans. “fuck.”

“do what you have to do, lottie.” van spits on two of their fingers and uses the saliva to moisturize tai’s clit. “I’ll try to loosen her up a bit so she can take you better.”

a tear slips down taissa’s cheek and her legs plead to close. van circles tai’s clit to prepare her and get her pussy slightly lubricated. it’s nowhere near enough preparation, but it’s something.

“you’re gonna take her so well, baby. lottie going to fit perfectly inside of you.”

lottie slides in without further warning. taissa’s pussy grips her harshly and lottie can barely push anything past the tip inside. still, she shuts her eyes and exhales. this is what the wilderness desires from her. no task is too hard. none of the wilderness’ orders are out of lottie’s reach. she’s a dedicated follower to the forest and she’ll please it by any means necessary.

“sweet thing,” van whispers tenderly in taissa’s ear. “you’re taking her so well. look at you.”

van massages taissa’s thigh, watching as lottie’s cock penetrates tai deeper. she can almost see the outline of it in tai’s stomach.

“she’s taking more of me,” lottie says excitedly. “fuck. there you go, tai. there you go. so proud of you.

“i couldn’t be more proud too,” van praises, now smoothing out tai’s belly. “you needed this. i know you did. we all did.”

“i think tai understands that now,” lottie purrs, the pace of her pumping gradually increasing the more tai’s pussy adjusts to the intrusion.

tai’s walls close tighter around lottie’s dick, attempting to milk it. taissa jolts and bucks, her hips moving without her permission. van guides her back onto lottie’s cock, allowing for a more firm penetration.

lottie moans wildly as her cock gets soaked in taissa’s slick. her thrusts are rougher and her nails dig into taissa’s thighs, holding her down so she can pound away without obstacles.

“you’re making me feel so fucking good,” lottie growls. “fuck, baby. don’t even fuck your self on my cock. just let me do the work. i need to feel you, all of you.”

“you’re gonna make her cum, tai. do you wanna make lottie cum? do you want lottie to cum inside of you, baby?”

taissa gives a slight nod, only in the hopes that she’ll get this over with sooner.

“my precious girl.” van kisses taissa’s ear. “now you’ll properly belong to us.”

[wheredafandomat]

Based on this ask that I accidentally lost 😭

@lulubelle814 I hope you enjoy it!!

Meant to be

Loki x female reader

18+ | TW: Infertility and problems associated with that including miscarriage, smut, use of drugs, alcohol

❤️❤️❤️❤️

“Loki, Loki” you shake him awake trying to stop the trembling as your vision blurred “wake up, I need-I need to go to a hospital” you stuttered, Loki’s eyes flying open as he heard you.

“Y/n?” He questioned, cupping your face as he searched your expression in the dark room “what’s the matter?” He began, eyes widening as he noticed the crimson soaking into the sheets.

“I feel faint and I’m not due on” you tried to rationalise, not wanting to alarm Loki and trying to calm yourself down too.

“I’ll drive” he quickly stood up, flinging the duvet off of himself.

Loki helped you into the car before you both rushed to the hospital. You had been feeling abdominal pain for the past couple of days and you felt incredibly ill but you put it down to stress. Only now as Loki held your hand, frantically driving that you realised this was actually a lot more serious. When you made it to the hosptial, you were seen quickly.

“I wish I had known” you sniffled “if only I had known, I could have pretended, just for a while that we—we were going to be parents” you continued to cry as Loki rubbed soothing circles on your back, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I was a mother Loki and now—now I—” you sobbed, wanting the day to end as Loki bit back his own mournful tears. And just like that, another getaway, another attempt at normalcy.

It had been just over a month since you were at the hospital and already, you and Loki had spent all your weekends abroad, trying to have sex in as many different European countries as you could. Each country offered its own culture, its own fond memories and its own way of spicing up your sex life whether that was with aphrodisiacs or guided meditations. This weekend, you found yourselves in Amsterdam, a hotel overlooking a nearby canal as you each held a mushroom in your hand. It was on your way to get food that you stopped at a shop and picked the mushrooms up after an elderly lady working in the shop said that the mushrooms cured all that ails you. Turning towards each other, you smiled before eating them.

“When do they kick in?” Loki asked, wriggling his fingers as he held his hand in front of his face.

“Considering the fact that you’ve been staring at your hand for the past ten minutes, I think they already have” you answered, looking at him.

“Oh” he voiced, looking up at you “do they work?”

“Is your hair getting longer?” You questioned, squinting as you looked at Loki.

“Is yours getting shorter?” He replied, pointing at your hair before you stood up, making your way to the mirror.

“Oh my god!” You shrieked, Loki following behind you as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

“Norns!” Loki gasped, his hair long as he took in his appearance.

“Is this—do I have stubble?” You panicked, touching your face only it didn’t seem like your face. “Oh my god!” You yelped again as you felt an unfamiliar weight between your legs. Running your hand down your body, you almost passed out as you realised “I—I’m a man! Look Loki, look, I’ve got a—” you began to laugh, pulling your trousers down.

“Y/n, I fear I may have lost my—” Loki began before you interrupted, thrusting your hips.

“It’s so heavy” you chuckled.

“What on Midgard did we take?” Loki asked, his voice high.

“Who cares, the effects will probably wear off as the mushrooms do” you shrugged.

“Sooo, are you saying we should enjoy them whilst they last?” Loki grinned.

“Yes, besides, you do look irresistible as a woman. Very sexy” you purred, causing Loki to smile. “Your hair, your skin, I’m going to enjoy this” you smirked, your hand moving between Loki’s legs.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Loki giggled, seemingly uncomfortable by how much you were enjoying this more feminine version of himself.

“No” you answered with the same giggle.

Both sated, a thin sheen of sweat clinging to your bodies as well as the aroma of sex lingering around the room, you rested your head against Loki’s chest as you took a deep breath.

“Thank you for this Loki” you murmured, kissing his chest.

“For what?” He queried.

“Taking us away, making me feel better, I’ve enjoyed it” you smiled. Sitting up a little, Loki kissed the top of your head before noting your hair growing again.

“Your hair” he pointed as you sat up, touching it.

“Oh yeah” you grinned before pulling the sheet that was covering Loki’s lower half away. “Oh how I’ve missed you!” You exclaimed, looking down at all eight inches of him.

“Could’ve fooled me” Loki joked.

“You think you’re funny?” You teased, straddling him.

“No thought, simply fact” Loki retorted.

“Mm?” You hummed questioningly as you guided his thick cock inside of you.

“Mhmm” Loki nodded in response as you lowered yourself onto him, eyes closing as he filled you to the hilt.

“Fuckk Loki” you moaned, rocking your hips forwards and backwards as his hands found purchase on your breasts.

“Just like that” Loki groaned as you clenched your walls around him “you feel so good.”

“Ughh Lokii” you whimpered, grounding your hips down against him as his cock throbbed inside of you.

“Keep doing that baby, fuckk” Loki pleaded as you circled your hips. “Feels too good” he almost mewled, rolling you over and switching your positions so that you were against the bed before he fucked into you with ardour, hitting that perfect spot as you thrashed against the bed, his pelvis rubbing against your clit.

“Loki” you almost screamed, the headboard banging against the wall as he pounded you.

“D’you want my cum? Tell me you want it” Loki growled, still thrusting hard into you.

“I need it Loki, fuckk” you moaned loudly.

“Want me to cum inside this pretty pussy?”

“Pleaseee” you near begged.

“Tell me to cum” Loki implored as your legs began to shake.

“C—fuckk—cum with me Lokiii” you exclaimed before Loki came, shooting his load inside of you as your climax shook you.

Collapsing down next to you, Loki kissed your shoulder.

“What time does the bar close?” You broke the silence.

“Not until 2AM, why?” Loki answered as you smiled at him.

“I THOUGHT THAT I HEARD YOU LAUGHING, I THOUGHT THAT I HEARD YOU SINGGG” you sang, on stage with an actual microphone after spending the past hour at the bar with Loki.

“I THINK I THOUGHT I SAW YOU TRY” Loki sang with you, his own microphone in hand.

“BUT THAT WAS JUST A DREAM” you both sang together as the audience you had accumulated cheered you both on.

“We’re really good Loki” you spoke to him.

“So so good, the best” he agreed, turning to kiss you as the cheers grew louder.

“I love you” you spoke against his lips, hands roaming one another’s bodies as the kiss deepened.

“Alright alright, that’s enough” you were both escorted off of the stage.

“Pool?” You asked once your microphones were taken off of you and losing my religion stopped playing.

“Pool” Loki nodded.

Running towards it, you were thankful that it was empty once you arrived. You began taking your clothes off before jumping into the water, Loki not far behind you in his boxers as you kissed, the water pooling around your waist.

“I love you so much, do you know that?” Loki asked, looking into your eyes as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“You, Loki Laufeyson, are the love of my life” you smiled against his lips as you kissed him “now, do you want to take some more mushrooms and try on my dresses?”

“Yes,” Loki nodded.

“Great” you kissed him again.

The warm glow of the sunlight streaming into the room is what stirred you from your slumber. Stretching, you opened your eyes to find yourself in Loki’s arms. The feeling of you moving woke Loki.

“What happened yesterday?” You asked groggily.

“Why am I wearing a dress?” Loki spoke, looking down at his attire.

“And you’ve got lipstick on” you pointed out, looking at him.

“Well at least it’s yours” he smiled.

“How do you know it’s—” you began before Loki wiped some off of your lips. “Loki, are you wearing mascara?”

“Maybe” he shrugged.

“What a crazy weekend” you sighed.

“Indeed” he agreed and that was the end of that weekend. You both checked out of the hotel, flew home and continued your lives. The weeks turning into months.

Despite never admitting it to anyone, your favorite pastime was going to the park and reading a book with the sound of children in the background. It comforted you. It let you pretend that you were a mother, just for a moment, taking your child to the park. You’d get lost in the sound.

“Which one is yours?”

Looking up from your book, you turned to the elderly lady that sat down next to you. You felt a little embarrassed.

“Oh I don’t have a child” you tried to say nonchalantly.

“Yet” she smiled at you.

“No I-I can’t” you paused, falling silent as the lady looked you up and down.

“I wouldn’t be so sure dear” she smiled almost knowingly at you, a smile that sent shivers down your spine. Gathering your things, you left the park and headed home.

When you arrived home, you were greeted by Loki who was cooking. He kissed you on the cheek as you entered the kitchen and made your way to the fridge before getting the ingredients for a sandwich out.

“What are you doing? You’ll spoil your appetite” Loki tried to deter you.

“I’m starving” you excused.

“Wait for dinner then”

“Sorry mum” you laughed as Loki put the bread away. “Is that my apron?”

“My one is currently in the washing machine” he answered, wrapping his arms around the apron defensively.

“Okay” you continued to laugh.

After dinner, you still couldn’t get the encounter you had with the lady earlier on out of your head. You thought about it as you ate, as you showered, as you brushed your teeth and as you got into bed. You even thought about it as Loki’s lips traveled across your chest and down your body. You couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“I spoke to a lady today, she said some strange things” you finally let out.

“Like?” Loki prompted you to continue as his kisses met the hem of your panties before he began tugging them down.

“That she wouldn’t be so sure that I can’t have children” you admitted.

“Y/n” Loki began sadly.

“No I know I can't, it's just she said it with so much conviction” you explained as Loki’s expression turned into one of pity “anyways it’s not important, will you continue” you tried to dismiss. It didn’t take long for you to cum before falling asleep, Loki’s head still between your thighs.

“Y/n? Y/n?” He called to no avail.

The following morning, it was nausea that woke you up as you jumped out of bed and sprinted towards the bathroom and rid yourself of yesterday's dinner.

“Y/n?” Loki knocked the door as you flushed the toilet.

“NO! Don’t come inside. I’m hideous and vomity and—” you listed as Loki opened the door.

“Y/n” Loki smiled, cupping your cheeks “you’re beau” he started before retching and throwing up too.

“Have we got food poisoning?”

“Impossible” he insisted.

“Maybe it’s just a bug then”

“We should rest” Loki suggested.

“I actually feel quite alright now” you countered, standing up.

“Strangely so do I, but I’d never say no to a lazy day with you” he grinned.

“I would kiss you but we should probably brush our teeth first” you giggled.

The following month, you and Loki were invited to a gala. You had picked out a dress to wear a few weeks ago only now, it wouldn’t zip up. Noticing your struggle, Loki came up behind you and began pulling the zip up before he too was met with resistance.

“I think I’m gaining weight Loki” you sighed as you slumped down.

“I’ve been thinking the same” he answered, causing you to gasp as you straighten yourself out again “about me!” He quickly added “I’ve been gaining weight too.”

“It’s all the carbs Loki, we can’t keep having pasta dishes”

“Apart from tonight, I’ve made your favorite, carbonara for when we get back” Loki smiled.

“Can I have some now, I’m feeling a little peckish?” You asked before Loki led you both to the kitchen. Digging your fork into your plate, you ate a little before rushing to the bathroom to puke which is something you had been doing a lot recently.

“What if something is seriously wrong?” You asked, swishing listerine around your mouth.

“We’ll book you an appointment with a doctor in the morning, okay darling” Loki suggested, you nodding in response.

A few days later, you and Loki found yourselves back in the doctor's office as she looked through her notes before looking up at you both as you sipped your water, your nerves consuming you.

“Well good news, you’re fine and so is the baby.”

Spitting out your water, you told her to repeat herself which she did.

“You’re pregnant” she informed you.

“I—no-I can’t be” you stuttered, Loki holding your hand.

“Yes, almost four months now but we can scan you—”

“MONTHS!” You exclaimed.

“Yes”

“I mean, are you sure?” Loki finally spoke.

“Positive. Haven’t you noticed any changes to your cycle or any symptoms?” The doctor asked.

“I thought I was just going through the change” you whisper shouted.

“Y/n, this is amazing!” Loki cheered, kissing you. “We’re going to be parents” he spoke against your lips.

“I-I’m going to be a mother” you began to cry.

“I’ll give you both some time” the doctor spoke before leaving.

“Loki, how did this—when did this?”

“If you’re four months now, this must’ve happened almost five months ago” he figured.

“What did we do five months ago?” You questioned.

“We were on holiday, that’s when I woke up in the dress” he remembered.

“Yesss, we must’ve been pretty wasted because I can barely remember it.”

“That’s when we conceived,” Loki smiled fondly.

“That explains all the vomiting and the hunger, not your vomiting though Loki” you narrowed your gaze.

“Who cares, this is a joyous occasion” Loki kissed you again before the doctor walked in and scanned you.

“Hello baby” you smiled at the screen, tears in your eyes. “I want to call it Hope, Hope Laufeyson”

From then on, Loki had been very careful with you and extremely accommodating to the point where whenever you’d touch your stomach, he’d do the same, whenever your ankles would swell, so would his and whenever you’d vomit, he’d vomit too. He was taking sympathy pains to a whole new level.

“Loki”

“Yes love”

“I think we’re spending too much time together” you answered quietly.

“As if that’s a thing” he laughed off.

“No seriously, we’re doing the same things”

“Many couples find themselves—”

“I’m pregnant Loki”

“Right”

“So we shouldn’t be acting the same way,” you explained.

“No we shouldn't,” he agreed.

“Loki!” You gasped, worrying him “come here” you called “I just felt a kick.”

Placing a hand on your stomach, Loki waited for another one before doubling over himself.

“Well this certainly shouldn’t be happening” he spoke.

“What?”

“It puts a whole new spin on sympathy pains” he continued.

“What?”

“I think—I think I just felt a kick too.”

“Impossible Loki, you have to actually be pregnant to—AHHHH!” You screamed.

“Whatt?” Loki yelped.

“I think I just saw the kick” you pointed to him.

“You don’t think I’m” Loki paused, stepping in front of a mirror and looking at his stomach.

“You can’t be, it’s not possible, is it?”

“What did we do on that weekend?” He worried.

“Well the best thing you can do is go to the doctors and get a scan just to check” you suggested.

“But I—I’m a-a man”

“Well, find a way of changing that”

“Like we did that weekend!” Loki gasped, remembering.

“What?”

“Don’t you remember? We took something and it altered our genders. That’s when I must’ve conceived” he figured.

“I got you pregnant?”

“We need to wait for a scan but it appears so” he agreed.

Using a lot of his Seiðr, Loki managed to switch sexes again, transforming into who you liked to call Lady Loki.

“You should really do this more often, I like it”

“Look at the mess it’s gotten us into already” Loki answered before you both headed to the clinic.

“Good news, you’re pregnant” the doctor smiled, looking at you both.

“Can we have a moment please” you asked.

“Sure”

“Loki, how is this even going to work?” You began to panic.

“I’ll have to stay like this until after the pregnancy” she decided.

“We’ve gone from no children to two” you breathed.

“Isn’t it magnificent?” Loki beamed.

“Yeah?” You questioned.

“Yes! A miracle” she clapped.

“You’re right. You’re right!” You smiled, kissing her “we're going to be parents!”

“The best!” Loki agreed.

Four months later, Loki gave birth to a boy and you a girl. After watching you breastfeed for the first time, Loki changed back into a male and insisted on just being a dad. You really were the best parents.

“You know, we could go on another holiday soon considering the children are growing up” Loki suggested a few years later.

“No!”

I’m so happy for them 🥺

Tags:

@lokisgoodgirl @thenotoriouserg @chantsdemarins @donaweasley @xorpsbane @mcufan72 @loz-3 @evelyn-kingsley @sailorholly @lovingchoices14 @lokiedokiee @noideakitten @mochie85 @mischief2sarawr @lokiprompts @lulubelle814 @fictive-sl0th @peaches1958 @gigglingtiggerv2 @tmilover1993 @lyds247 @dustychinchilla74 @lokis-dark-queen @november-rayne @12-pm-510 @vickie5546 @newtomofgods @eyesbluelikethetitanic @lokiestorch @somewhereinthegalaxi @beautyb1ade @angelilacsworld @lokidokieokie @mushypork @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed

[vanrouchu]

sinner 000

in which the sinner gets her name from chief

zero x fem!chief

Sinner 000; that's her name. At least that's what the file told her. Chief briefly remembered the opportunity that presented itself in front of her when she dived into the depths of the alternate universe. The opportunity granted her the capability to remodel Sinner 000 to anything she'd like—from her name to her tragedies, the possibilities were endless.

If Chief wanted it, she could easily create a brand new sinner that would help her fight the neverending battle against Mania. A powerful sinner who was willing to lend her their power without any hidden motives. It was no different from creating a puppet and the notion itself made her shiver.

Needless to say, the fact that Sinner 000 was in the Bureau’s confinement said everything that needed to be said. Perhaps it was Chief’s innate desire to protect sinners that came into play but is that really all? Turning against the system was no small feat, and to do it all for a sinner who was already presumed dead?

Ah, it was all too vexing. She still had so much paperwork to do even after risking her life so recklessly but it was almost a comfort to experience the normalcy of her daily life after such a bizarre experience. The sinner’s file was still in front of her, almost begging to be read.

She picked it up, and then—“Chief!”

Speak of the devil.

“You're here.” In contrast to the sinner's cheery tone, her tone sounded more like dread rather than surprise.

“Eh, what's with that? You sound disappointed. Boohoo, I'm hurt.” Chief was used to her dramatic antics, the crocodile tears did nothing to shake her. More often than not, these types of things were often traps she laid out; she was just waiting for Chief to bite.

“I'm not disappointed. I was just surprised.” Chief’s gaze fell on the file again. The sinner’s eyes followed and her eyes lit up, her hands were quick to grab them, ignoring the way it clearly said it was confidential.

“Ooh, so you were reading about me! How cute. If you want to know more about me, you can just ask me directly.” She shot her a wink.

Chief closed her eyes.

“I suppose you're right.” Her reply made the sinner grin in response but the next question turned her head blank. “Let's start with your name.”

“My name?”

“I can't keep calling you Sinner 000, can I?”

“No, I guess not.” She tilted her head, pondering. “I never had a use for an actual name. Nobody knows me enough to bother making one.”

“Then let's make one for you now. A nickname, perhaps?”

The sinner’s eyes widened. It was one of the rare moments where Chief can see the blatant surprise on her face—it made her seem a bit more vulnerable, maybe even childish.

“Sure, if that's what you want.”

“Zero.”

“... Zero.” She tested out the name on her lips and giggled. “I like the sound of your voice calling me that. Sure, call me Zero.”

Chief sighed, a small smile decorating her face. “You say the strangest things. Other people are going to be calling you that too, you know?”

“Oh, but you're so special! It's my first name. A name I got from you. Is it so selfish of me to want you to be the only one who calls me that?”

“Don't be silly.” Zero stared at Chief when she let out a chuckle. “It'll become even more precious if more people use it. I won't be the only one who will know your name. I don't want your world to be so confined.”

There was a short silence. A few moments that made Chief slightly nervous at her silence. Zero would usually be laughing or barking back. She was greeted by a resigned sigh instead.

“Haah… you're so dense sometimes. But I knew that already… although that doesn't make this feel any better.” She pressed her index finger against Chief’s lips and leaned closer. “It's fine, I’ll win again you next time. You can have this round.”

“I wasn't aware that we were playing a game.” Chief replied, her lips moved against her finger, and gazed into Zero’s eyes. “Zero.”

When Chief called her name, Zero withdrew her hand almost immediately.

“That's a cheat code.”

[hayanwulf]

Hi, in case you write a/b/o, can you write IronStrange where someone flirts with alpha Stephen and omega Tony steps in to stop them? That would be great!

Okay, I’m guessing you wanted me to write traditional a/b/o here. I, however, am not used to writing traditional. I tried (and failed) so went back to the way I always write my a/b/o’s. Non-traditional and with a high level of normalcy.

“Norns, you look pathetic ogling at that sorcerer,” Loki commented dryly, hands crossed over his chest and legs propped up on the conference table. The Avengers meeting hadn’t yet started, so the few people already present were more or less lounging.

“I’m not ogling at anyone,” Tony replied whilst clearly staring at the sorcerer in question, who sat all the way on the opposite side of the large table, discussing something with Bruce. “It’s called careful scrutiny.”

It was true. Stephen was a new player to the team — and it had taken a lot of persuasion to make that happen even if Stephen had been an ally nonetheless — so obviously, as a co-leader of the Avengers, Tony needed to observe him to learn more about his abilities, battle sense, teamwork skills, the like. There was absolutely no other reason for Tony to observe the Wizard, nope. And it was most definitely not because Tony found the doctor attractive, intelligent, witty, and with the most intoxicating yet calming scent he’d smelled from an alpha in a long while. Stephen smelled like rain and fresh tea leaves, which, how was it possible for an alpha to have such light, soothing tones in their scent?

But anyway, that was not the reason Tony was currently observing Stephen.

There were only practical reasons for observing him, yup.

Loki let out a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a giggle. Tony turned to glare at the Asgardian, who was currently in his alpha form.

“You aren’t fooling anyone but yourself, Stark. But if that is what you choose to believe..” Loki smirked, pulling his legs off the table to stand up, and leaned towards Tony to speak quietly, “All the better for me.”

Tony felt it the moment Loki shifted to his omega, the strong, musky undertone of his scent replaced by a pleasant kind of sweetness. Tony blinked and sat up straight, watching a little cluelessly as Loki sauntered around the table.

The Asgardian arrived by Stephen’s seat and leaned his back on the table, body tilted towards Stephen, eyes tracing the Wizard with interest.

Finally, it clicked what Loki was doing, and Tony stilled.

Stephen blinked up at Loki’s posture, no doubt already having noted the switch in gender. “Hello, Loki,” he said with a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

The responding smile Loki gave was somewhere between mischief and mirth. “I do not plan to sit around in this inane gathering they call a ‘team meeting’. I would rather do something enjoyable, or at the very least, meaningful,” Loki spoke, then gave a light tilt to his head and raised a challenging eyebrow. “Care to join me?”

Stephen held Loki’s gaze for a long moment, a considering look in his face.

No, no.

Tony could not let this happen.

He could especially not lose to Loki, of all people.

“Or,” he spoke out loud before he could stop himself, catching the attentions of not only the magic users, but also Bruce, Natasha, Hope, and Scott. “We could go back to my penthouse after the meeting. Order takeout, watch some movies.”

Lame.

He immediately wanted to kick himself.

But.. it was safest. It was all he could think of in the spur of the moment. They’d already had takeouts at Tony’s penthouse a few times, even if Stephen had never seemed to want to stay for long.

Tony could never quite figure out why.

What did it mean, Tony wondered, that Stephen never stayed till the completion of even a single movie with Tony, but had seemed ready to take Loki up on his suggestion just a moment ago?

“Sounds like a plan,” Stephen’s words pulled Tony out of his head, startling him a bit with how quickly his doubt got defenestrated.

He looked up to find the Wizard gazing at him with warmth in his eyes, lips turned up just a hint. Tony knew that Stephen did not easily give away his feelings, be it through scent or expression. Tony was among the few who were privileged enough to not only receive those warm looks from Stephen, but also know what he smelled like when he was content and happy.

Tony was grateful for being among those people.

He smiled up at Stephen, bright and genuine. “Better pick a movie before the meeting’s over.”

Loki, Tony realized, was staring at him with lips downturned, which seemed less out of annoyance and more out of disappointment, which, what?

Whatever.. the crisis had been averted and Tony had acquired a not-date.

For now, he was content with that.

[meduseld]

Please drop the Fairholme party composition please

Lol okay so bear in mind this is part grounded part me being unhinged. But, if you go back to episode 3, we get some firm details: the party is repeatedly refered to as being an 8 member party (there is a shot of them later that only appears to show 7 men but one could be scouting ahead, more on that in bit) and it takes its shape from Crozier's original idea with of course Fairholme taking his place as lead and crucially, Crozier says specifically to "swap in two marines".

That gives us a very clear head start when narrowing down. 8 men, one of which is Fairholme and two of which are marines. Given the real marines manifest AND the show giving eliminating all but two candidates (all the others still living are either shown or mentioned with the ships AFTER episode 3) it has to be Privates Joseph Healey (29, from Manchester) and William Reed (28, Bristol). Which working backwards can be justified narratively, they are both Erebus marines thus familiar with Fairholme and his command, as well as older despite being privates. Plus their boss just got brutally murdered, oof.

So what about the other five? We can infer a couple of things. First in the script Crozier was considering taking both Hickey (a petty officer) and Wentzell (an AB) which means both petty officers and ABs are up for grabs. Second, the composition of Gore's party was pretty similar so we can use it as a template. Gore was also 8 men, himself, ONE marine (Bryant), one officer (CDV), one petty officer (Peglar) one medical (Goodsir) and three ABs (Best, Morfin and Tartnell).

With that in mind, we can pretty much confirm he'd be given another 3 ABs, which brings us to six members of Fairholme's party. These were likely whoever Crozier had picked (in the scripts he decides against Wentzell, who we know stays on the ships, and as expanded on below, he wouldn't be able to take them from Erebus). There are enough not accounted for directly in show or shown post ep 3 to pick from. Lets assume Crozier would give him men that were experienced but not "old" so in their late 20s, early 30s.

I basically picked these bc with that starting point: William Jerry (29, Pembroke and veteran of Ross' Antartic journey thus likely on Crozier's list), John Handford (28, Sunderland) and Charles Johnson (28, Halifax. Yes Nova Scotia. That's why him).

For the final two we know that he wasn't spared any medical officers, and that he almost certainly was not spared any other non-petty officers even warrant ones for two reasons: we see the fate of a lot of them in the show but also Erebus just lost a ton of their command structure: Sir John, Gore and now Fairholme as well as their highest ranked Marine. Crozier needs officers, and especially JFJ needs officers and some kind of sense of normalcy on Erebus so they would probably want to minimize taking even more after a Lt and TWO Marines. Not to mention, Sir John's funeral looks to be attended by enough non-petty officers to support this.

So two petty officers, and for balance let's assume one from Terror and one from Erebus. I assume JFJ would have lobbied for this as well. Presumably you would want to minimize the psychological impact or fighting that could happen from the men thinking the break up was "unfair". Four men a ship tracks, even if there were likely still grumblings about who (Erebites were probably pissed as hell Terror mostly lost ABs and so on). Then there is another factor. We pretty much know that at this point Crozier has 0 hope they are getting out via ships, and that petty officers like Peglar are pretty much idle since their jobs depend on them actually sailing. Factor in that they need to be men we don't see after ep 3 and my votes are for, after checking who is around and their ages-experience:

The Erebus Captain of the Foretop (Peglar's opposite number) Robert Sinclair, 25, of Kirkwall.

The Terror's Captain of the Forecastle (in charge of the anchors as well as the head sails) Reuben Male, 27, of Woolwich.

Despite their ages, both those men had years of service aboard ships. Not to mention it's a relatively balanced pick in similar positions that they can spare. Also keeping the repeating and similar names that this show is so famous for.

Finally, look it:

Fairholme seems to be hauling w his men, a good officer like Gore. There are only seven men in the image which could just be an error but. Let's assume they sent someone ahead to scout, possibly Jerry. I almost would have assumed the other Marine, but one of the haulers looks to be in Marine dress so. By the by, historical Sinclair was apparently only 5'5'' so let's assume he is the short king at the end of the right hand side haulers.

Thank you for joining me in my descent into madness, see you next time