#they're very brief but i thought i'd throw that in there just in case!!

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Hi! I'd love to drop some thoughts on cowboy!reader.

I think they get tattoos that are symbolic of things/people that mean a lot to them. No fear of the permanence, because cowboy knows that if something means that much to you at one point in time, it'll always be a part of you anyways, tattoo or not.

So basically i can see the whole team discovering that cowboy!reader is half covered in tattoos (maybe on a really hot climate case etc) and they're like what do all those mean?! and cowboy is like well, i have one for each of y'all. then they all of course feel a need to guess which ones are representative of them. maybe only then do they realise just how much of an impact they've had on him. idk.

much love,

-🦕 anon (if that's available of course)

No warnings, also I love this idea so yeah! Also we're going to pretend that the 'plot' makes sense aha

Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies

It was ridiculously hot, you honestly felt like you were melting (and this coming from you, so it was ridiculously hot). And then a police officer bumps into you, spilling his freshly made (and very hot) coffee onto you whilst you were making your way to the briefing room set up for the case.

You huffed as you walked in, trying to get the shirt as far away from you as possible without actually taking it off. "Someone spilt coffee on me," You pouted, JJ chuckled slightly.

"You're going to need to change shirts," She said, as she was closest she fished through your go-bag, grabbing a shirt and throwing it at you. You caught it, shooting her a grin as you did so.

"Shirtless warning," You warned, they all rolled their eyes at your laziness to find a secluded place to change shirts. You quickly removed your shirt as you then tried to find the opening for your other shirt.

"Since when did you have tattoos?" Morgan asks with a grin.

You turned to him, "For a while now," You shrugged.

"What do they all mean?" Spencer asked, tilting his head.

"They've all got different meanin's," You said. "Some of them are for the people I've met and have impacted me, others are just pretty,"

"Pretty?" Morgan grinned.

"Yeah, pretty."

Spencer looked at your tattoos before pointing at one. A small black bird on your chest.

"Who's that one for?"

"That one's for my baby brother Aden," You grin, "When he was a kid he used to make me sing Blackbird when he was scared,"

"Have you got any for us?" Spencer asked curiously.

"Yep," You said, "I've got one for each of y'all,"

"Seriously?" Emily's eyes widen when you nod again.

"Of course," You said, "Y'all mean a lot to me,"

"Can we guess?"

"Sure," You grin.

There was silence for a moment as you stood awkwardly whilst the team's gazes travelled your chest and back, searching for tattoos that could be linked to the team.

"Is- Is that one mine?" Spencer asked, pointing to the small chess piece on your torso, a pawn with a shadow of the queen piece.

You nod, "Yep,"

"Why the queen shadow?"

"You're a whole lot more vital to this team than you give yourself credit for," You shrug, Spencer blushes.

"This one has to be mine!" Penelope chimes, pointing at the tattoo of her favourite octopus mug. "You seriously got this tattooed onto your skin forever?!"

"Yeah, why?"

"It's on there forever,"

"It's a reminder," You said. Seeing the slightly confused look on her face, you continued, "It's a reminder that you had an impact on my life, that you meant so much to me that I wanted that remind with me, forever."

"You're so sappy," Morgan laughed, you rolled your eyes. "Wait, is this one mine?" You looked, he was pointing to the small MP3 player with a set of headphones and you nod.

"Uh-huh," You said, "You take them everywhere, it couldn't have been anything else," Morgan rolled his eyes slightly.

"Who's is this one?" Emily asked, pointing at the fountain pen.

"Hotch," You answered, "His favourite pen is the fountain pen Haley got him one Christmas,"

"Oh! Oh! This one has to be Emily's!" Garcia exclaimed, pointing to the small black cat. "It's Sergio!" You laughed as you confirmed.

"What about this one?" Reid asks, pointing to the small butterfly. "Is that one for one of us?" You nodded.

"I got that for JJ," You said with a shrug, pink dusting over your cheeks, "She told me she collected butterflies when she was young,"

"When did you get it?" JJ asked softly, staring at it. It was a Palos Verdes Blue Butterfly, a rare and beautiful butterfly.

"Bout a year ago," You said with a shrug, "That conversation made me realise-"

That I had fallen in love with you.

"That I belonged on the team," You said, giving a small crooked smile.

"Wait, is mine a plate of pasta-?" Rossi asked. You grinned at him sheepishly.

[cuprohastes]

Lunch In Space Part 5

To be fair, the two Tsin med-tech were being really quite considerate. It's a Tsin thing.

The Tsin eat their honored dead, and thus, the question of whether they could persuade the Human Admin team to let me be dinner was kind of an indicator of high regard.

Either that or the Caf was out of Grottled Greebs and they were snacky.

They also were the techs there to keep the medbay hardware running and not the people who were allegedly treating my case of non-fatal death, so they get a pass on not noticing I was still alive.

The fact I was sitting up without any large chunks falling off told me that the how-to revival guide had been used and nobody had tried throwing hot water on me.

The actual medical team arrived in short order, no doubt alerted by one of the machines that was attached, or possibly by the brief screaming fit from the Tsin.

After an hour or so I was feeling much better, and me and my new tech buddies were shooting the breeze about the station, which had stopped falling apart.

"It's the space squid." I told them.

They politely indicated that I was obviously deranged.

"No really... Say did they bring in all the stuff that was with me? There were a couple of busted batteries."

"I dunno. I guess?" Said one who I'd decided to call Gnax, since that was what he introduced himself as. The other was Gwingbit, by which I determined they were a small male and a small female. Large females traditionally get descriptive names like Walks-In-Sunlight, over in Admin.

Gnax pulled out a tablet and held it in his upper right hand and checked. "Yeah. We grabbed everything in case... you know."

In case it turned into an inquest. 

"Sure but uuuuh, you really need to grab those batteries before they get recycled, they may still have evidence - the same thing that got the station got me".

Gnax scampered out eagerly. I got the feeling he was excited to be part of the big story and that his day-to-day wasn't very interesting. While he did that, Gwingbit sidled closer. For someone who looks vaguely like a four armed pangolin with ears way too close to their nose, the body language is often surprisingly human.

"So uh, you know Strong-Like-Sunlight?" She said.

"I cannot say I do... or," I said getting a suspicion, "I might not know that name?"

Gwingbit muttered, "Dave The Human". 

Oh right, Dave's actually a Large Female - Not that they're much bigger than the Small females. The names don't really translate well, so it's a sort of... For Dumb Humans label. Tsin have four genders, and I have very politely never asked about how that works. 

I never thought of Dave as anything but one of the Daves, but from what I know, I suspect she's actually kind of all that and a purple breadroll by Tsin standards.

"Oh, I'll tell her you said hi!" I told Gwingbit making her day, and then clammed up because Gnax trundled back with a cart, upon which were the smashed batteries. 

I had a vague memory of trying to feed my space squid one before going under. 

The induced hypothermia pretty much conserved my oxygen and power past the projected point of death, but reading between the lines, everything was tapped out by the time the rescue drone caught up. I got lucky.

We peered at the batteries, and the two Tsin made subtle "crazy human" gestures at each other, so I grabbed one and peered into it. Nothing. 

I picked up the other... well well! I dug my thumbs in and eased the already split case open, and lo and behold, there was my little buddy the space squid, tentacles curled, evidently napping after having snacked on the good stuff.

Gnax said something that the translator declined to provide a translation for but it was probably "oh snap" or "Gosh!".

"Who's the crazy human now, huh?!" I said with glee then screamed and dropped Squiddy because he just unfurled and tentacled my fingers a bit.

He tucked and rolled and we stuffed him in a plastic storage tub. I dropped the battery in and then we all looked at each other and felt dumb because this guy and his friends had eaten the station apart, so maybe a little plastic tub was not the impermeable barrier we hoped.

Squiddy on the other hand explored a bit, using it's little silvery tentacles to pet around the tub while we watched and made videos, then went back to nibbling the splayed open battery. 

We could see the little grinder it was using to snarf down little flakes.

I was very glad it was a dry battery or we might have had a nasty leak.

And about then, Raxy came screaming in.

You ever heard an Atrix screaming? Not reccomended. For a start, when you see a little guy on his own, it means that things are bad. And I knew Raxy so this was going to be something bad happening to someone I knew.

I knew it was Raxy, he was still wearing his jumper. I - in my spiffy paper pants and shirt - leapt off the bench and almost twisted an ankle. 

"Where's Gondy?!" I screeched and Raxy grakked at me, about a tenth of which I got, and hit turbo mode, doing a u-turn and heading out.

I am a highly trained EVA specialist. I can tell a "Timmy fell down the Well" scenario, and I was already moving. 

"Call the emergency response team" I yelled as I hurled after the small lizard. There was only really going to be one thing this could be - Gondy was hurt or in trouble.

Three turns and a sprint later he hit one of the bulkheads to a damaged section. The airlock was closed, but through the window I could see Gondy floating just beyond the airlock door on the other side. She was feebly pawing at her helmet which... Grak in a basket, it was cracked and leaking!

I yanked the lever for the airlock, closing the far door and crash equalised the pressure, hauling the door open before the atmosphere had stopped being misty and ploughed in, bare-foot into the freezing cold room to take a closer look. 

I was sure Gondy was still alive but I could see she was in a bad way. I couldn't tell if it was an impact or one of the space squid.

"Where's the emergency team?!" I screamed - Gnax was screaming into his tablet and Gwingbit was hauling the emergency cart towards us.

Well, clearly this was not going fast enough and given the fairly traumatic colours Raxy was displaying, he shared my opinion. 

I looked him in the eye and said with a calmness I didn't feel; "I'm going out." And then scooped the little guy up and bowled him out the airlock and pulled the door shut, panted deep and hard while I braced... and blew the atmosphere.

OK so things got unpleasant fast. When you crash dump the air out of an airlock, it vents both up and and down from the station, not out the door. 

It takes about ten seconds and then the door lock releases and it automatically opens - It's designed on the assumption that if you just pulled the lever for an emergency vent, you really need to get out fast. Think Fire.

Anyway about now my hands were swelling up, and it felt like I was drowning - Pretty much the case since I was screaming, and my lungs were filling with a froth, which itself was expanding and evaporating.

Top tip: Don't try and hold your breath when you depressurise. It will kill you even worse than vacuum exposure, and that's saying something.

In low pressure, water boils and freezes at the same time and I was exhaling all the water that had been keeping my tissues nice and plump.

You don't want to know what it felt like on my eyes. Or my skin.

About now I had maybe thirty seconds before I was dead. Maybe half that before i lost the ability to move.

I lunged and wrapped my arms around Gondy's leg, hauled her into the airlock by yanking back as hard as I could.

As she slid in and the gravity field hooked her she hit the floor and slid... I already was staggering over, mostly blind and kind of hooked my forearm around the big emergency lever: Designed for anyone in a spacesuit to operate: Thank my lucky stars it was, because my hands were swollen up too far to use my fingers.

I wondered why I was still screaming, and realsied the door was shut and the air was flooding back in. I yawped like crazy to equalise the pressure on my ears, tongue swollen up kind of hilariously. I mean I'd laugh but I was having problems breathing around it. Come to think of it, it might be because I just blew out a lot of tiny blood vessels in my lungs too. I wondered if my lungs might be filling with blood. 

The inner door opened to show two horrified Tsin. I walked past them and then passed out mid step.

When I woke up, I felt like I'd been sand blasted and there were a lot of tubes in places that didn't normally have tubes.

There's a joke about nurses installing new holes in you if you're not polite and at some point I must have said something bad about coffee, because someone had come along and punched an exciting number of new orifices into me.

I also had a fanclub.

My two adoring Tsin were practically glued to my side, and Gwingbit was making those soft little chirps which is the Tsin way of beaming so wide the top of your head comes off.

"You guys really are space orcs!" She squeeped. "Nobody believes it. you walked into a vacuum, like..." she waved. "If I didn't have the video, they'd never believe it! You're like a... a... I don't know! In one day you got hit so hard it tore the docking rail off, then you discovered the things that ate all the seals on the modules... And then you ran out of air and got frozen and just got up from being dead. And and and then you walked into space and just grabbed Atrix..."

"She's called Gondolier Dottirsdottir. Picked it this morning" I rasped. Wow. This morning? Less than 10 hours ago.

"... and Strong-Like-Sunlight came in to see you..." Gwingbit added. Ah. There we go.

They saved Gondy. Her helmet got cracked by high velocity crap that punched through the wall, stunning her and giving her a slow leak. I don't know how much longer she had but when they got her helmet off, she'd already taken some damage to her eye and face. 

Luckily, not more damage than we can deal with, though she was blind in one eye for a month. 

I got off lightly! My skin peeled off like a sunburn and I had to spend time on a ton of steroids and on extra oxygen since I slightly freeze dried most of my lungs and throat.

As for the space squid? As near as we can tell they're a Von Neumann machine. They mine, replicate and use a distributed network. They might even be smart, if you get enough together!

When they hit the station they just saw a big lump of something useful and started by stripping out all the most useful things they could find. Which largely was the stuff that held the place together.

There's a frequency they don't like. They poured off the station like you wouldn't believe once we blipped it at them. Who figured that out I don't know.

As for me? Now I just have to live with everyone wearing t-shirts that say "EVA 43: Just Going Out."

They couldn't have used my name? 

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

This is an incredibly funny podcast episode. I realize most of my Peacock & Gamble posts are just for me because no one else is going to be interested in listening to these in 2024, and by an large, I'd say that's very much for the best. But if anyone is interested in just laughing really hard for about 45 minutes, this is pretty good. Maybe. It's probably slightly funnier if you have the context of knowing the Peacock & Gamble dynamic so slightly less funny if you don't, but not by that much, it's very funny no matter what. Interview they did with Romesh Ranganathan from the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in 2013.

This post was not originally behind a cut, but I'm going to add one before I reblog it so I don't take up people's entire feed with an interview from 2013.

It gets incredibly combative about ten minutes in (and before that, quite suddenly very sexual for a couple of minutes, which I guess is the other element required to complete any good interview), and the amazing thing is they manage to keep up that level of aggression for a solid half hour or so. They keep saying they're going to get back on track, and as a listener I kept expecting them to do so because it's one thing to have some banter for a bit, but you can't just turn an entire interview into a fight. But that's what they did. They had a brief discussion about sexual positions, and then they had a fight for 30 whole minutes. God it was funny.

I always find it funny listening to people try to have a conversation and fail. This is weirdly making me think of Andy Zaltzman, even though Andy Zaltzman has nothing whatsoever in common with any of the three men in that podcast episode (Ray Peacock, Ed Gamble, Romesh Ranganathan). I often write about how Andy Zaltzman has no chemistry whatsoever with nearly anyone in the world, and I think it's clear that I view that as endearing, but I don't know if I make it clear enough how incredibly funny I find that to listen to. Just people trying to talk to each other and it doesn't work. One time last year Frankie Boyle did The News Quiz and he and Andy had to interact and they were like magnets just glazing off each other. Like sandpaper trying to knock together smoothly. It was nothing whatsoever like this Peacock & Gamble episode, totally different in vibe and tone and certainly in content, but I found myself thinking of it because they had in common people trying to have a conversation and utterly failing.

I mean, obviously the other different is that it was planned in this case. Andy and Frankie were genuinely trying to have a normal radio show and they just didn't have the social skills to pull it off. Peacock & Gamble are quite capable of being personable, and just thought it would be funny to bring on Romesh for an interview but instead have a fight.

It's hard to tell how much of it was real. I mean, I know it wasn't literally real, they were clearly friends who were playing. But it's hard to tell whether they sat down beforehand and actually planned all the elements of this, like in previous fights with a man named Raji James, or whether they just started talking and realized they were falling into this pattern and decided to run with it. It sounds like it was largely the latter, at least at first, which I think makes it funnier. By the end Ray Peacock was intentionally throwing grenades into the conversation by fucking with Romesh every time he opened his mouth, but for the first half or so, they did quite a good job of sounding like people who were genuinely trying to work together but kept stepping on each other's toes and hitting nerves and kicking off. Which is funny if it happens once but they kept it going for so long.

I'm going to say I think this one from right near the beginning might have been semi-real - as in they hadn't planned to get into a fight about this, but they hit on a topic that made Ray slightly prickly and then Romesh got into his prickly character/mode in response and all three of them realized it would be funny to significantly exaggerate their reactions. And then they just took off from there.

Ray Peacock: You’re sort of soaring a little bit [in your comedy career], aren’t you, at the moment? Romesh Ranganathan: I don’t know about soaring. Ray Peacock: I think you are, I think you’re doing really well. Ed Gamble: Let’s watch Romesh get incredibly uncomfortable while we compliment him. Because that’s the sort of thing that will happen. Ray Peacock: But you are, though, aren’t you? You’ve took off a little bit. Romesh Ranganathan: I don’t know – Ray Peacock: You’re not a big star. Romesh Ranganathan: Okay. Ray Peacock: Don’t be stupid. Romesh Ranganathan: All right, I mean I didn’t want it to go that direction. Ray Peacock: Yeah, no, you’re not. You’re not. Romesh Ranganathan: I’m happy to be self-deprecating, but don’t put the boot in. Ray Peacock: There’s a good chance nothing more will happen. But at the moment, you’re doing all right. Romesh Ranganathan: Yeah. Ray Peacock: You’ve done Russell Howard’s Good News. Romesh Ranganathan: That was great. Thanks, man. Ray Peacock: Yeah, join the club. Romesh Ranganathan: Yeah, yeah. Oh, hello. Ed Gamble: Welcome, welcome. Ray Peacock: Thanks? I didn’t compliment you. I said, “You did Russell Howard’s Good News” – you went, “Oh yeah, thanks.” Romesh Ranganathan: No, I meant – I wasn’t saying, “Thanks for saying I did Russell Howard’s Good News.” I was saying, “Thanks, because you did the warm-up, you were lovely.” Now I regret saying it, because you’ve turned into a little bit of a prick. Ray Peacock: So you’ve got me down as your warm-up act? Romesh Ranganathan: No I didn’t say you – oh my God. This is unbelievable. I didn’t – Ray Peacock: It is unbelievable, I agree! It is unbelievable. Romesh Ranganathan: This isn’t what I signed up for. I thought this was going to be a pleasant thing. And everything I’m saying, you attack me! Ray Peacock: It is a pleasant thing! You’re the one that’s coming here Billy Big Bollocks, coming here going, “Ooh I’ve been on Russell Howard’s Good News and you’re my warm-up man!” Romesh Ranganathan: I wasn’t Billy Big Bollocks! I didn’t even mention it, mate, you’re the one that brought it up. Ed Gamble: Right, can I just say – this may not be what you signed up for, but this is the reason we asked you to come on the podcast.

I transcribe that big to give an idea of the tone, but the really amazing thing is just how long they kept it going. So long. They kept finding way to get mad at each other. More podcasts should turn into straight-up fights (not in a Joe Rogan ray, just in a Ray Peacock/Romesh Ranganathan way). I like this more intellectual and thoughtful Ray Peacock that we're getting in the Edinburgh episodes, but it's been a while since he's picked a good fight with someone (in the chronology of me listening to the collected works of Peacock & Gamble starting from 2007 - I'm vaguely aware that in the chronology of real life it's been 10+ years since any of this has happened), and he's so good at it.

I'm mostly giving Ray and Romesh credit here because they were mostly driving it throughout the episode - Ed Gamble, like in their live shows, seemed to have worked out that he's funnier playing the faux-reasonable party. Though for some reason this tiny exchange has come back to me about four times since I first heard the episode and made me suddenly laugh again:

Ed Gamble: So what's your show about, Romesh? Romesh Ranganathan: Oh, I don't like your tone. Ed Gamble: All right. What's your fucking show about?

The whole episode is incredibly funny. I made the mistake of starting it on a break at work and I had to skip to the next one and then finish this one at home because it was making me laugh too hard for work. At the beginning of the next episode Ray said he didn't even want to do any more interviews because none will be as funny as the Romesh one, and as lovely as Ardal O'Hanlon was in that next episode, I sort of agree on that. And if anyone is reading this and would like to judge how much I enjoy combative comedy, I would just like to remind you that you watch people do professional pretend wrestling.

[marlenacantswim]

'let's say you lived in-universe in each town / city / location from each cornetto film during the events depicted. understanding you don't have any prerequisite knowledge of what's about to go down, what would you be doing? how would your fate befall you, or if you think you'd survive, how would you manage to avoid certain death?'

BACK ON YOU FRIEND!!!

OH YOU GOT ME BACK MY BELOVED, OOF AUGH!!!

Okay. I'm in London. Here's the thing about me: I would believe there's a zombie apocalypse going down at like, the first bit of evidence. i'm a flexible little fuck, my default state is the fetal position. i'd gather up the shit i'd need to survive, and find some hole somewhere (probably in wherever i live. let's say we're roomies in this theoretical scenario) and just kinda vibe there and in the immediate area. i'm hoping for an attic maybe? as long as there's power, or fucks tons of batteries, i'm set. i can draw, i can write, i can put on my headphones and listen to shit on my cd player. if i was an adult in 2004 i'd have fuck tons of disk audiobooks, and books that i bought and never read, and this seems as good a time as any. in terms of weapons? probably the american baseball bat i brought with me when i moved to europe in this theoretical scenario.

sandford time! i think i'd be able to tell something was going on? with a village so small and my penchant for making friends, i think i'd be attending enough funerals and feeling enough grief to get kinda conspiratorial. i like to think i'd keep that shit to myself, but who knows; i can see myself airing out my worries to the wrong person and getting Dealt With. everyone loves me though, so at the very least the NWA would be very conflicted about it. I imagine they'd poison me and then throw me in the water to fake a drowning.

now newton haven? yeah those blanks are extremely physical, i don't think i stand a chance. imagine if we lived there at the same time and i got blanked first (bc i feel like i would, they'd get me while i was watching the sunset from a bench somewhere) and then i ended up blanking tf out of you when i inevitably trip over my own feet and my arm explodes into blue ink and you walk in and it's like a sitcom for a few brief moments.

actually no, new thought: blank and human roommate sitcom. blank keeps having to come up with convoluted lies about why her arm keeps popping off and why all the laundry keeps getting stained blue. the season four finale changes the status quo when her identity as a blank is revealed. the next five seasons are the blank hashing out increasingly convoluted schemes to try and turn their roommate into an empty. the human roommate never gives these situations the dire attitude they deserve. in fact, both characters keep an unnerving amount of levity to this fucked up game they're playing.

yeah that's us. we get incinerated when the town blows up bc we're too busy laughing about my most recent attempt to blankify you (it involved a fake lottery ticket and a prank call from the queen of england).

perfection. i think this is 100% how it would go down in all cases.

[talkingpointsusa]

Jordan Peterson throws a massive temper tantrum over having to take social media training.

The thirteenth rule for life is throwing a tantrum on the internet when you don't get your way. (Source: The Jordan Peterson Podcast on Daily Wire)

Well, Jordan Peterson has decided to grace the world with a forty minute video about how oppressed he is because he's been ordered to take social media training and since apparently I'm secretly a masochist I decided to watch it.

In case you haven't heard of this story, The Ontario Court of Appeals recently rejected Jordan Petersons appeal regarding the Ontario College Of Psychologists ordering him to take social media training. Since Jordan is a well documented oppositionally defiant asshole who throws shitfits over stickers on paper towel dispensers, this hasn't gone over well.

Since I know a lot of people are whining on Jordan's behalf that his free speech is being taken away, I'd like to get that argument out of the way before we even start. Jordan Peterson has a right to his free speech but that doesn't mean that he's free from the consequences of said speech. Jordan's license is a privilege and the Ontario College Of Psychologists has every right to take that privilege away if they feel like Jordan's behavior has violated their professional standards. Think of it like taking a toy away from a six year old child for throwing a tantrum. That kid threw a tantrum and that was their right, but that action had a consequence. Jordan Peterson chose to be a conservative media grifter and that action had a consequence.

Jordan Peterson is fascinating to me because it's shocking how somebody so discredited still has so much of a following. Jordan Petersons arguments have been proven to be total bullshit time and time again yet people still take him seriously. Some More News did an excellent (and very short) breakdown of Jordan's arguments if you want to look into them further.

I myself intend to cover more Jordan Peterson at some point so watch this space.

Anyway, Jordan and his daughter want you to know that they are very oppressed. Lets get into it.

00:11, Mikhaila Peterson: "This might not be the most fun conversation but I thought before we delve into how awful this, I thought I could just read a brief background I wrote about what's been going on so people are caught up to speed. Is that OK?"

Jordan Peterson: "Yep."

Mikhaila Peterson: "The gist of it is, it looks like your license is getting taken away."

Or you could grow up and do the training.

One thing I truly don't understand about this is why does Jordan care so much if his license is taken away?! He's not a professor anymore and he isn't even a practicing psychologist anymore. He smelled the conservative grift money and went there.

If his fans have still stuck with Jordan through the absolute embarrassment that has been his career, they aren't gonna care if his license is taken away.

Mikhaila briefly recaps her fathers battle with the Ontario College of Psychologists.

03:28, Mikhaila Peterson: "So, are you OK?"

Jordan Peterson: "It's tiring, you know. I'm preparing for this tour, I have a--I'm finishing two books, they're very complicated, they take pretty much all my attention and having to fight this war, well it's tiring. I have to plot, strategize, write, watch my tongue, consider my next best move, and I also have to face the dismal reality that, as I wrote in the National Post, in some real fundamental sense Canada's Charter of Rights isn't worth the papers it's printed on."

Again, this isn't a charter issue. The profession of psychology in Ontario is self-regulated and follows the Standards Of Professional Conduct which Jordan violated multiple times. Jordan wants to have his cake (being able to say inflammatory stuff on the internet) and eat it too (face no consequences from the Ontario College of Psychologists).

This oppression and woe is me B.S that Jordan is pulling here is also deeply vomit inducing. Jordan has an estimated net worth of $10 million and a job with a media platform that pays him massive amounts of money to say literally anything he wants without consequences (at least from them). Jordan Peterson isn't this oppressed victim, he's a petulant child whining about being forced to face the consequences of his actions.

04:54, Jordan Peterson: "The tweets that I really got criticized for, particularly the one regarding Paige or--Paige or however he or she wants to be referred to. I also regarded that as a professional obligation because I think it's incumbent on psychologists with an ounce of integrity point out the danger of having self-deluded, narcissistic, self-destructive, celebrities parade their proclivity to self-sterilize and self-mutilate as a public good on their public forums."

The portrayal of being transgender as a "proclivity to self-sterilize and self-mutilate" is poorly informed and overly verbose bigoted drivel.

What happened with Elliot Page was that Jordan was being a transphobic dick and deadnaming him while also saying that he "got his breasts removed by a criminal physician." It was completely unnecessary behavior and if Jordan characterizes this as him practicing psychology he should get his license removed immediately because no psychologist in their right mind would behave in this fashion.

I am shocked at the absolute gall that Jordan has to portray a trollish and sophomoric tweet designed to provoke a negative reaction as his duty as a psychologist. You want to talk about narcissism? This is it right here.

05:37, Jordan Peterson: "So, I don't regret any of that and I certainly-- you know me Mikhaila, I can feel guilty at the drop of a hat, it's actually one of my outstanding features."

Jordan, who is accusing all transgender people of being narcissists, ranting about his "outstanding features".

05:58, Jordan Peterson: "This is so ridiculous. I mean, the fact that the college accepted a complaint that was the entire transcript of my 3 hour discussion with Joe Rogan pretty much says it all."

Absolutely no idea if this is true or not because there's no way to verify it and Jordan isn't a reliable source at all. I could find no record of that complaint but since Jordan would know about complaints against him more than I would I'll give this one a "maybe" instead of an "outright lie". If Jordan is willing to provide evidence of this complaint, I will gladly accept it in the name of fairness.

But since Jordan opened the door, lets talk about his appearance on Rogan. A part of me wants to do a full debunk on this at some point (let me know if you'd like to see that) but I figured we could go over the finer points.

First of all, Jordan introduced himself as a psychologist when the show started. The reason that this is important is that he brought his profession into the interview so all of his comments on the show were made as a representative of the profession. The Ontario College absolutely has a right to scrutinize his statements he made, as a psychologist representing their profession, on the show.

Jordan made multiple extremely inflammatory comments on the Joe Rogan Experience. He declared that there's "no such thing as climate" despite not having any expertise on the subject as well as declaring that certain people "aren't black".

Naturally, this was a complete embarrassment for the psychological community and if his Rogan appearance contributed to the courts decision, I can see why.

06:11, Jordan Peterson: "And by the way, on the climate front, just that everyone is crystal clear on this. I think the climate models that are used to justify the encroaching tyranny planned are 100 percent untrustworthy."

Note how Jordan doesn't have any evidence for this. Like fellow Daily Wire grifter Matt Walsh, most of Jordan's arguments boil down to "because I said so". Why is science fake? Because Jordan said so and something about WEF conspiracies. Jordan has no evidence for what he's saying besides his feelings.

06:26, Jordan Peterson: "And I think that the notion that we should let people terrify us to death with notions of an impending climate apocalypse so that we have to be locked down in every possible manner. Give up our automobiles, give up our flights private or otherwise, give up our right to buy clothing, give up our right to eat, give up our right to keep grandma warm or cool in the summer lets say. It's like, no. Sorry. No, wrong in every possible way."

Who is saying that we give up all of these things? Sure, we are making changes but notice how none of that stuff has been banned nor has anybody suggested that we ban any of it.

Lets us the example of flights that Jordan brought up. Lets say that "they" tried to ban flights. There's absolutely no way that the airline industry would let that fly, pun intended. In 2023 alone the airline industry sunk $26.11 million dollars into lobbying. This is concerning for multiple reasons that I'm not going to get into, at least not in this episode, but it displays a trend of the airlines having considerable sway in American politics.

Some of these make even less sense. "The right to eat?" What does that even mean? Is he talking about limiting beef consumption? Because that's different than just flat-out eating. The right to keep grandma warm or cool? Again, hard to know what he's talking about since nobody has banned heating in buildings.

07:18, Jordan Peterson: "And, you know, you ask me how I'm doing. It's like, this didn't really come as a surprise so I'd already prepared for it."

Oh yeah, I forgot that this is all a response to what is basically "how are you?" This has been a four minute answer to "how are you?" and he's still going.

Is this how he responds to every question?

"Hey Jordan, can you please pass the salad?"

"THE WOKE MOB IS AFTER ME AND CLIMATE ISN'T REAL!!!!"

07:34, Jordan Peterson: "To some degree, we're gonna see what good we can make arise from this. And if this my opportunity to expose the machinations of the radical-left narcissistic resentful woke mob then bring it on boys."

Here's the thing about Jordan Peterson, he is basically a walking talking point. He just threw out every single right-wing talking point against the left onto the table and sat back as if he said something profound.

Isn't this guy supposed to be the rights intellectual powerhouse or something? I mean, I will admit that this is the only full Jordan Peterson produced video I have watched so maybe I caught him on a bad day, but so far I'm not seeing it at all.

07:55, Jordan Peterson: "We saw what happened to Claudine Gay, we saw what happened to UPenn. If the good people at the Ontario College of Psychologists think they're immune to such things, they have another thing coming."

"You were mean to me so I'm gonna get my big strong friends to go after you. How does that sound, huh?!" What is Jordan? 7?!

The ironic thing is that Jordan is doing exactly what he just accused the left of doing. He's essentially threatened to send the right-wing mob after the governing body of the Ontario College of Psychologists because they're telling him that he's not allowed to have his license while also being an idiot on the internet. Yet apparently we are the mob. Hard to reconcile with that.

08:20, Jordan Peterson: "Now they are definitely planning to do that because the rule is I have to be educated by people of their choice, at my expense, for whatever length of time they deem suitable until, by their standards I've learned whatever the hell lesson I'm supposed to learn. I can't even imagine what that lesson would be. It's like, don't tweet, don't speak, don't think, don't tell my clients the truth."

I love how Jordan can't even comprehend not being an asshole on the internet. For him, tweeting and speaking are intertwined with being a bigoted moron.

Also, he hasn't had "clients" for years. Unless he considers everybody who follows him on Twitter and watches his show to be a client. Am I a client now because I watched this?

09:04, Jordan Peterson: "So I'm set up for failure and my detractors will say 'Well, Dr Peterson you set yourself up for failure.' You know, whatever. But um-"

Mikhaila Peterson: "Those are the beetles I was referring to" (Mikhaila made a joke early in the episode that Jordan's detractors have the IQ of a beetle)

I prefer scarab myself.

09:28, Jordan Peterson: "You know, so much of it's preposterous. One of the things I asked the college, they never answered, I asked them forty questions in a letter of this level of impossibility. So one of them was 'So, you go out about a dozen of complaints, maybe they go out to like seventeen complaints and decided to proceed to thirteen, something like that, from people from all over the world detailing my crimes as we discussed.' Many of those complainants claimed falsely in writing to be clients of mine by the way, which didn't invalidate their opinions. None of them, just to be clear about this, none of them were clients of mine or knew clients of mine or were anyone I commented about on Twitter or knew anyone I commented about on Twitter, so we wanna be clear about that."

I can see why this was an impossible question that the College couldn't answer. You know why? Because it wasn't a question! It was just Jordan rambling for one minute.

Also, lets zero in on Jordans definition of what a client is because it is deeply confusing. Just two minutes ago, Jordan was saying that he was telling his clients the truth by posting on Twitter. So are his clients only people on Twitter who like what he has to say? I guess I'm not a client after all. Shame.

Just a reminder that we're still on "how are you?"

10:35, Jordan Peterson: "What's the consequence of losing my license? Well it's annoying because those are hard licenses to get and I worked very hard to earn and deserve that license and to maintain it."

I love how his main argument is basically "this annoys me and I still waaaannnnnttt iiitttt."

Jordan Peterson, again the intellectual powerhouse of the Conservative Movement, is acting like a child who thinks he has a right to act like an asshole and have the entire world bend over backwards to serve him. Next thing you know he's gonna threaten to hold his breath until the Ontario College Of Psychologists tells him he doesn't have to take the social media training.

10:47, Jordan Peterson: "And also very hard at being a good therapist, which I was. There were no complaints taken against me by anyone until I became known in the public sphere, so that's a good thing to consider."

This is ridiculous. So because there were no complaints taken against Jordan during his time as a therapist years and years ago, we are just supposed to ignore everything he's done since then?

That's like saying "Oh, I know I have a degree in law, haven't practiced law in years, and have made a name for myself by making disgusting statements about minorities. But you shouldn't take away my license to practice law because none of my clients lodged complaints against me when I was working as a lawyer."

11:20, Jordan Peterson: "At some point I'm going to determine that being a member of their pathetic little, incestuous, ideologically addled, resentment ridden, bureaucratic, micro-souled club, is not worth the effort."

Translation: "Oh yeah? Well I didn't want to be in your stupid club anyway!"

Seriously, when people tell me that Jordan Peterson is this intellectual powerhouse are they talking about the same guy? Am I being punked or something?!

12:14, Jordan Peterson: "When you bring them your 13 year old daughter who's in major distress. Who is so concerned about her body that she's thinking about sterilizing herself and having her breasts removed and your psychologist isn't gonna be able to do anything except lie to you that it's alright. How's that gonna go for ya?"

13 year old girls aren't given surgeries and puberty blockers are FDA approved medications that are completely reversible, far from sterilization. These puberty blockers have been shown to reduce suicidal ideation in the youth who receive them. It's pretty disgraceful that Jordan, a psychologist, is either unaware or willfully ignorant of these facts.

13:08, Jordan Peterson: "We'll play out this farce to it's end and I'll do that in the faith that if I conduct myself with a certain degree of honor and care that the results won't be precisely what my would be enemies would intend."

Honor and care = throwing a hissy fit on the internet apparently.

13:27, Mikhaila Peterson: "Yeah, this is worse--luckily you're in a position where this isn't gonna crush you but if this happened to somebody who didn't have multiple streams of income, what would they do? They'd just be re-educated and lie I suppose. Or quit."

I guess we are done with "how are you" now. I almost forgot that this video was built on the pretense of Mikhaila "interviewing" Jordan.

The thing about this argument that I've heard from Jordan and his ilk time and time again is that it ignores the massive scale difference between Jordan and your average psychologist.

Jordan has a massive platform and as a result his opinions are amplified. Considering the fact that he refers to himself as a psychologist, those views as a result become representative of the psychological community. Keep in mind that Jordan is operating in a profession dedicated to mental health, naturally having a psychologist running around sprouting harmful misinformation about transgender people (among other things) reflects poorly on the profession. Your average psychologist doesn't have that platform and, more rudimentarily, doesn't share Jordan's disgusting and oft bizarre views. Jordan Peterson isn't like you or me, he's a millionaire who has made millions by being a conservative media grifter and is now facing the consequences of his actions.

And do you think Jordan Peterson cares about the free speech of transgender people? Women? Hell no he doesn't! It would be a mistake to get roped in by his free speech warrior schtick because those are rules for thee and not for me.

14:26, Jordan Peterson: "Amy Hamm, the nurse in British Columbia, they've tortured her to death and she was very afraid of them and she's come out swinging again. So, you know, she's got some spine, that girl."

I had never heard of this "Amy Hamm" person before. Jordan later says that she "got in trouble for insisting that there's a biological difference between men and women" which automatically got that transphobe alarm ringing. So, who is Amy Hamm and what happened?

Amy Hamm is a nurse in British Columbia who got into hot water for making bigoted comments on social media about transgender people. Some of these lovely statements include "we have eyeballs and we will continue to use them to misgender you." and that "trans women are men". Essentially, she's a bigoted troll attempting to gain attention by targeting a vulnerable minority group. Also, tortured her to death is so ridiculously melodramatic.

Outside of the fact that it's a profitable and trendy thing to go after in the griftosphere, I don't get why these people care so much about transgender people. They just want to live their lives like you and me and aren't hurting anybody. What's going on with the right and trans people is pure unabridged bigotry.

Jordan rambles a bit more and it's more of the same stuff he said previously. It's not great but that's why we have the time skip. He complains a little about the CBC and I have already delved a little into that when I first checked in on Ezra Levant.

19:19, Jordan Peterson: "I don't have anything to lose. The worst they can do, and this is what they'll do, is they'll take my license and then I'll be known by those who wish to foster enmity against me as now disgraced psychologist Jordan Peterson."

Oh, trust me, Jordan isn't just now disgraced. He got there when he became addicted to benzos (which by the way is another reason why he arguably shouldn't have a license) and then proceeded to go to Russia to do an extremely medically dubious treatment in order to overcome his addiction.

Also, this video really flies in the face of a lot of Jordan's rules for life. In this video he hasn't taken responsibility for his actions (rule #4 in Twelve More Rules For Life) and he has absolutely gone down the road of arrogance and resentment (rule #11 in Twelve More Rules For Life). Rules for thee, not for me.

19:59, Jordan Peterson: "There's a reason that people 11 million copies of my book. The reason they bought 11 million copies of 12 Rules For Life was that they found it helpful, like psychologically helpful, which was it's purpose."

I normally wouldn't include this kind of quote but I feel like I need to address the fact that Jordan probably has made a positive impact on some peoples lives.

If you are reading this and Jordan Peterson has made a positive impact on your life, I am not here to discredit you or call you a bigot or any of that, as a matter of fact I am happy that you managed to turn your life around for the better and I wish you the best going forward. What you've got to understand though is that there are far better sources of the same common sense advice that Jordan touts in his books and lectures. Jordan has ideas around females and LGBTQ+ people that are genuinely harmful and will only serve to harm you if you embrace them. If you still need Jordan Peterson, go ahead and continue to watch his lectures and whatnot but heed my warning. The alt-right pipeline is a genuinely dangerous thing that I am trying to combat on this blog and Jordan is an easy way to enter it. Tread carefully and please do your own research.

Jordan talks about how he's going to stay in Canada and then an ad is inserted into the middle of the video. Not by YouTube mind you, by the Daily Wire. Ben's still gotta get his cash out of this! There's not really any content in this video at all. It's just Jordan switching between complaining and gloating.

26:20, Jordan Peterson: "I don't have a university, but I'm building one. That's kind of interesting"

OK, so what he's talking about here is Peterson Academy. It seems like it's essentially PragerU only more expensive.

31:01, Jordan Peterson: "When reality comes knocking, you're a fool if you turn away regardless of what it is. And it's the same thing now, this looks like bad news and it's certainly bad news for other professionals and I think Canadian professionals who aren't woke themselves and don't have their heads in the sand and their nether regions fully exposed for exploitation, lets say!"

Gotta sneak the transphobia in. So, I guess Jordan Peterson doesn't like trans people having jobs, shocker.

You are entitled to your opinions but you aren't entitled to be a divisive troll about them on social media because your employer might see that. We've lived in that reality for years and I find it absolutely bizarre that conservatives seem to be just figuring this out now.

33:47, Jordan Peterson: "I have some of the abilities of Cassandra. Cassandra was a seer who was fated to be entirely accurate in her predictions, her torture was that no one ever listened to her. So I don't have that problem because people do listen to me but I do have some ability to see down the road to where things are going."

"Yeah, I'm like Cassandra but BETTER. By the way, don't be arrogant."

I feel like that's a fitting end for this episode. Nothing particularly interesting happens in the last couple minutes. Just more of Jordan and Mikhaila rambling about politics and how the "woke moralists" are coming to get you.

Conclusion:

Well, I started writing this before the border stuff exploded so that's next on the chopping block, but seeing Jordan Peterson throwing a shit fit on the internet is certainly a nice break from the more serious topics covered here, at least hopefully for you guys.

Cheers and I'll see you in the next one.

[born-to-lose]

Heyyy I have a question because you're the person I know with the most iconic concert experiences,,, how do you even get to meet those musicians without VIP packages and how do you handle meeting musicians you're attracted to/how do you stop yourself from getting attached and yearning for them in case you stay in contact?

I think if I met some of those band guys and thought they're hot, I'd forget how to speak or let something embarrassing slip 😭😭

Alright, get ready for the ultimate guide to meeting musicians at (small venue) concerts!

Regarding meeting them without a VIP package, I must say I'm incredibly lucky with my go-to venue because it's a very 80s Sunset Strip coded rock bar which books a lot of iconic (mostly glam) bands and many of them don't even offer VIP tickets (since I started going there, only two artists sold those and I bought neither). Most bands stay for at least some of the afterparty and before the show or between sets, you often see them outside the venue or running around in the corridor, so you may bump into them on the way to the bathroom because they're next to the backstage door (has happened to me several times), though in the latter case that's a brief interaction which could still be a basis for a chat later on.

My secrets are basically buying merch and approaching the musicians after the gig (they're usually standing outside, in the corridor or by the merch table) to ask if they could sign my stuff and then I just chat a little bit and follow wherever the conversation is going. You could even ask for a hug or they may hug you first. Either randomly as a thank you or when you say goodbye, whatever feels best for you.

That's also a good moment to ask for a photo, but frankly I forgot to ask at least four times (they only live in my memory). On this occasion, they often put an arm around you or even pull you closer and if they do that, you should pull them closer too and you can start flirting! Sometimes you just have to be bold and sort of match their way of talking, for example if they're a bit cheeky and flirty, play along and it should work. Having an alcoholic drink or two beforehand may also help if you drink, or you can have shots with them as you're talking as an enhancer. If you don't drink, you need to remind yourself you probably won't see them again after tonight and you need to take this chance to have a little chat without real consequences (I personally do both).

I try to get a spot in the front every time because it's easier for them to notice you during the show and hold the microphone in your face for a line, give you fist bumps, a sip of their drink, set lists, picks, drumsticks etc. If they don't voluntarily throw those into the crowd, you often need to ask when they're about to leave the stage because a lot of them forget the set lists, especially if they only have one or two and not a full stack ready in case people ask for them. But don't be pushy if they don't want to sacrifice their expensive drumsticks, there will be other gigs. Also, I pray you don't have aggressive girls beating you up for a drumstick standing near you. I've seen a bunch of them in action and was happy those weren't the times I caught something and had to defend it with my life.

Anyway, some musicians even approach you afterwards when they recognize you or are at least happy to see you coming to them, especially the lesser known bands. Even if you wouldn't have gone out of your way to meet them, you should talk to them a little, they turn out to be more fun that you expected, trust me.

All things considered, I find this a better way to meet musicians than through an official meet & greet because it feels way less forced and like they're only talking to you briefly because you paid them to do that. Plus, you don't have a line of other fans waiting behind you until you're finished and it's just more fun in general to meet them by chance and be able to have longer conversations with more privacy and without spending an extra €100.

The question about handling meeting musicians I'm attracted to is interesting because I'll admit I subconsciously tend to approach the ones I find slightly attractive rather than the unremarkable ones (or at least I used to), unless they're people whose shows I went to admiring them for their work, for example let's say if I'm a fan of Aerosmith but don't think Steven Tyler is hot, I'd still meet him given the chance because of his music.

I think it depends on what their "status" is, like if they're famous, you obviously have to restrain yourself but if they're down to earth and you can talk with them casually, flirting is fine if they go with it. I just recommend testing the waters and if they respond positively, you're free to continue. However, keep it mind you don't have to force a hookup after 10 minutes of flirting and more often than not it stops at kissing, so don't have too high hopes.

Also, if you know in advance that they're taken, be respectful and just have a normal conversation with them. Some will still flirt with you despite being in a relationship, in which case do what you're comfortable with. If you don't know if they're single, do what you want basically. It's not your job to stalk them beforehand to make sure they're single, it's their responsibility to be honest with you, though open relationships exist and their partner may be okay with them flirting with other people, but I'd rather not get into trouble with them.

I have had moments in which I was kind of starstruck (meeting Stevie Rachelle and also Taz Fagerström, but that was because he was the first musician I met) and forgot how to speak for a moment, it happens! You get used to it over time and figure out your line, though there will always be musicians you consider "out of your league" and think you can't start a conversation with them as easily as the Czech underground band with 700 followers on Instagram. In the end, they're people like you and me who really appreciate that people like their music and even like it enough to chat with them because that's absolutely not a given, sometimes I'm genuinely the only one approaching those musicians and it's a bit sad but also means there's more for me.

I actually stayed in contact with a handful of musicians I had met, even if we talk rather sporadically, but rule number one is literally "don't get attached". I recommend not developing romantic feelings unless you actually talk frequently and they're straightforward about it like asking you out on dates and you think it could work out (enough time off the road, living somewhat close with opportunities to meet them regularly etc), if only temporarily. Though even then I would be careful because you're rarely the only one for them, so if you're not fine with your partner cheating (whatever your definition is), a relationship with a musician may not be the best idea.

On this note, you should once again know their relationship status if you plan on pursuing them in any way and please do ask them directly in this case! It's much better than speculating whether they're single or not because they like to lie about that on social media, but if you're lucky, they'll tell you the truth when you ask.

You should also keep in mind they're often out of your league (as harsh as it sounds) so ideally, they'll make the first move as you don't want to seem like a desperate and creepy fan. They also spend a lot of time on the road, rehearsing or in the studio, which decreases your chances of quality time with them. Additionally, they tend to be older than you and at least at my age a too big age gap makes things difficult and many of them prefer people in their own age range (this is why I don't get bitches).

In conclusion, keep it casual and don't take it seriously. Just enjoy the moment without expecting anything to come from it. You'll be a lot less worried about what impression you make and if it could turn into something more if you just go there with the one plan to have fun!

I personally stop myself from getting attached by reminding myself that some things are better enjoyed from afar. Of course I love talking to these musicians, but 1) all of them taken (or the majority, I don't ask if they're not public about it), 2) they live too far away for a realistic hypothetical relationship, 3) they're between 10 and 40 years older than me, 4) if it ends ugly, you may get a diss track written about you and I'd much rather be a muse for the positive songs, 5) having dated a musician could ruin the experience of meeting bands in the future.

Important addition: some musicians are better as a type of buddy, but you should feel what vibe you'd rather have with them when you've talked for a bit. At least if you're out for that from the beginning, you save yourself the heartbreak.

[silvrtcngue]

dominic sherwood :  cismale : he/him : student : afraid by the neighborhood  ϟ  did you see draco malfoy ? you know ,  22 year old pureblood who is in slytherin. some say he can be quite +dutiful but are known to be -abrasive . they are secretly aligned with the neutrals .  maybe that’s why they remind me of pressed, white button downs; old history books with delicate bindings; the scent of dew on an early spring morning; piercing eyes looking off into the distance filled with horror and distraught;  ϟ  penned by rhia : 20 : est : she/her .

𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄  //  𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐘 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

hi  hello  my  name  is  rhia  &  i’m  super  excited  to  be  here  with  all  you  lovely  ppl  !!  i’m not  going  to  lie  to  y’all  ,  this  is  my  first  time  playing  as  draco  ,  so  i  wanna  apologize  in  advance  for  any  inconsistencies  or  errors  on  my  part  ,  there  will  definitely  be  a  bit  of  trial  &  error  at  first  BUT  he’s  one  of  my  fave  characters  from  the  hp  universe  so  hopefully  i  can  do  him  justice !!  as  a  general  warning  though  ,  he  will  definitely  be  canon  divergent  bc  i  like  adding  my  own  twists  to  canon  characters  (    it’s  more  fun  for  me  that  way  tbh  !!    ).  anyways  ,  enough  rambling  ,  onto  the  good  stuff  !!

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:

full  name  : draco  lucius  malfoy

birthday  :  June  5th  ,  1980

hogwarts  house  :  slytherin

blood  status  :  pureblood

sexuality  :  unsure  (  he’s  still questioning  atm  )

height  :  5′11″

hair  colour  :  silver  -  blond

eye  colour  :  gray

wand  :  10" ,  hawthorn  ,  unicorn hair  (   ❛    hawthorn  wands  may  be  particularly  suited  to  healing  magic  ,  but  they  are  also  adept  at  curses  ,  &  the  hawthorn  wand  seems  most  at  home  with  a  conflicted  nature  ,  or  with  a  witch  or  wizard  passing  through  a  period  of  turmoil.    ❜        ❛     unicorn  hair  :  wands  with  these  cores  produced  the  most  consistent  magic  ,  were  least  subject  to  fluctuations  &  blockages  ,   were  most  difficult  to  turn  to  the  dark arts.     ❜   )

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘:

likes  :    reading  ,  quiet  nights  on  the  astronomy  tower  ,  nighttime  strolls  around  the  castle  ,  the  bubbling  of  potions  ,  receiving  top  marks  ,  proving  himself  right.

dislikes  :    constant  pressure  ,  conformity  ,   loneliness  ,   the  idea  of  conflict  &  war  ,  the  fear  of  him  being  a  disappointment  to  his  family  &  the  malfoy  name.

positive  traits  :  dutiful  ,  intelligent  ,  charming.      

negative  traits  :  abrasive  ,  cowardly  ,  selfish.  

boggart  :  a  mirror  image  of  himself  ,  standing  before  him  wearing  an  evil  sneer  ,  &  bearing  the  dark  mark  on  his  forearm. 

amortentia  :  the�� scent  of  a  rainy  day  ,  peppermint  ,  freshly  baked  cookies  ,  &  roses.   

patronus  :  draco  hasn’t  learned  the patronus  charm  yet  ,  &  probably  wouldn’t  be  able  to  successfully  cast  one  due  to  his  lack  of  happy  memories.  

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐍𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄:

              the  silver  haired  bundle  of  joy  came  into  the  world  on  a  sunny  june  morning  ,  wrapped  in  love  &  adoration  by  his  parents.  draco  lucius  malfoy  ,  a  name  he  would  find  difficult  to  live  up  to  in  the  years  to  come.

                  his  early  memories  were  no  different  than  many  young  purebloods  growing  up.  he  was  spoiled  ,  anything  he  wished  for  was  his  with  just  a  snap  of  his  fingers.  to  many  people’s  surprise  he  was  a  soft  young  boy,  with  nothing  but  love  for  those  around  him.  he  was  a  bright  white  light  amongst  darker  souls.  that  bright  light  would  be  diminished  soon  enough  ,  once  his  father  got  a  hold  of  him.  draco  taught  to  hate  those  with  ❛  tainted  blood  ❜  ,  as  his  father  plainly  put  it.  he  never  questioned  the  older  malfoy  ,  but  there  was  doubt  buried  deep  within  him  ,  quietly  waiting  to  bubble  up  towards  the  surface.

                     lucius  malfoy  was  always  a  difficult  man  to  please  ,  although  that  didn’t  deter  draco  from  trying.  as  he  aged  ,   draco  was  desperate  to  earn  his  father’s  affection.  he  dove  into  many  of  the  books  in  the  malfoy  manor  ,  learning  everything  &  anything  he  could.  he  constantly  harassed  muggleborns  &  those  deemed  less  than  him.  yet  ,  nothing  ever  worked  towards  draco’s  favor.  there  was  always  someone  better  ,  &  was  always  compared  to  those  around  him.  his  mother  ,  however  ,  was  more  compassionate  towards  him  as  a  boy.  although  she  never  defended  draco  when  lucius  would  go  after  him  ,  picking  up  the  broken  pieces  left  behind.  it  saddened  draco  for  a  while  ,  but  mostly  encouraged  him  to  do  better  ,  breaking  his  self  image  along  the  way.    

                       his  school  years  were  no  different  at  first.  he  achieved  high  marks  in  a  majority  of  his  classes  ,  &   tormenting  muggleborns  whenever  he  got  the  chance.  still  ,  it  never  felt  quite  right  to  him.  (  death  mention  tw  )  it  wasn’t  until  cedric  diggory’s  death  that  everything  he  had  tried  so  hard  to  repress came  towards  the  surface  ,  &  he  could  feel  himself  faltering.  he’s  conflicted  in  who  he  is  as  a  person  ,  &  who  he  wants  to  be.  the  worst  is  still  to  come  ,  &  draco  knows  the  expectations  laid  before  him.   time  is  running  out  for  him  ,  &  soon  he’ll  be  forced  to  pick  a  side  ,  a  decision  he’s  too  afraid  to  even  make.   

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

honestly  give  me  all  the  plots  ;  friends  ,  exes  ,  friends  with  benefits  ,  confidants  ,  quidditch  rivals  ,  etc.  maybe  even  someone  who’s  muggleborn  that  he  finds  himself  tolerating  (  but  like  in  secret  idk  ???  )  or  even  like  helping  him  find  the  right  side.  or  even  a  death  eater  who  keeps  pushing  draco  towards  the  dark  side  ??  he’s  at  a  tug  of  war  with  himself  atm  so  he  could  go  either  way  lol.  just  know  that  shipping  with  draco  will  probably  be  v  tricky  bc  he’s  got  a  lot  of  insecurity  &  shit.  even  if  we  plotted  before  ,  i’m  always  down  to  try  new  plots  !  i’m  open  to  brainstorming  as  well  !!

also  note  :  i  tried  to  kinda  keep  his  backstory  vague  but  these  are  my  personal  headcanons  about  draco  &  his  parents  ,  things  are  subject  to  change  if  we  ever  get  a  lucius  or  narcissa  but  yeah.  just  wanted  to  mention  that  too.

[kabira]

02 | team project

pairing — spider-man!vernon x ofc

featuring — joshua, yeji (itzy), felix (skz), yangyang (nct)

word count — 2.6k

genres — spider-man au, marvel au, fluff, action, angst, humor

warnings — none

note — this is a little rushed, sorry ;-; i haven’t updated in two weeks despite only having posted the pilot so i was like !! ahh !! gotta update !! and here it is, your first ever (and very brief) appearance. i’ll edit it soon! as usual, send me an ask or dm if you want to be added to the taglist <3

go to fic masterlist | main masterlist

“Is this about me leaving Rhino on Midtown’s front porch?” Vernon demanded. “Because if it is, I’ll have you know that I left him in good hands—”

 "Calm down, Wonder Kid," Fury said. He didn't look amused like Vernon had hoped, which meant that whatever he'd come here to talk about was serious. Well, what else should he have expected from the head of S.H.I.E.L.D.? "It's not about that. Well—not entirely. It's about the good hands you mentioned."

Vernon narrowed his eyes. He'd met Fury a few times before, and never during favorable conditions. The last time he's seen the guy, Spider-Man had almost been pummeled to death by none other than the Goblin himself. "They said something about bringing him to S.H.I.E.L.D.," he muttered. "I should have guessed."

Fury didn't respond, instead reaching inside his jacket to bring out an envelope. He threw the open envelope onto the table in front of Vernon, making a few pictures half spill out from inside. "You know what that is?"

Vernon glanced at him suspiciously before slowly picking up the pictures and going through them. Each of them was a glossy shot of various locations in New York, and all of them had a major recurring theme—the places were completely trashed. Overturned cars, building walls with holes in them, bent lampposts. Wearily, he set the pictures down face-up on the table, then looked up at the man, who stared back with an unreadable expression on his face.

A beat passed. "Was that a rhetorical question?"

"Jesus, kid," Fury muttered. "All of those pictures were taken moments after a fight between you and one of your fanclub members. Now, I'm not saying I don't appreciate you taking care of a couple of minor criminals in the city—"

"Minor criminals?"

"—but I can't let you treat the place like it's your neighborhood playpen," he finished. Next to him, the pretty agent-slash-counselor sat with her legs folded, her surprisingly stern gaze fixed on Vernon. The attention made him squirm. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is a global defense organization, for god's sake. We don't have the time to clean up after kids who don't know even know their three Rs."

"Let me guess," Vernon said, "rock, roll, ramble?"

"Even your wisecracks aren't funny anymore, kid." Fury shook his head.

Ouch. "That hurt my feelings."

The man glared at him out of his one good eye. "You can't keep going like this forever," he said. "You're on your way to be one of the greats—don't look at me like that, hell if I'm gonna repeat that—but the big guys take care of their messes. They don't leave poor innocent civilians behind to get new paint jobs on their Kias. All that damage your careless fighting left behind, who's gonna take care of that?"

"Insurance?" Vernon suggested. Agent Fox cracked a smile, warming his insides. Her sitting aside in silence as Fury chewed him out was a little unnerving. He wondered if looking on silently while high-rankers lectured kids was something she had to do regularly. You gotta have a heart of ice to sit through that.

"You are," Fury said grimly, and Vernon blinked. "And you're gonna start today."

"What was it that you really wanted?" Vernon asked, crossing his arms over his chest, making his t-shirt stretch tight over his biceps. He really needed to go shopping. "You can't tell me the world's best spy came all the way to some backwater high school just to lecture a kid about cleanliness being next to godliness."

"You're a special case, Parker," Fury said, and Vernon placed a hand over his heart, mockingly going aw. "And you're right. I'm not here just to lecture you about your repeated careless mistakes, I'm here to help you fix them."

Vernon looked at him suspiciously, already wary of what was to come next. "And how do you propose I do that?"

"You've already shown me multiple times you can't do it yourself," Fury said. "Look, kid, here's the thing: you have a problem, and I have a problem. I also happen to have a joint solution to both."

Vernon slumped in his chair. Here it comes. "What problem could you possibly have? Nuclear warheads threatening to destroy civilians' Kias in Manhattan?"

"You really gotta work on those one-liners." Fury sighed. "There's a group of kids in the Helicarrier like you—up-and-coming superheroes in need of some real-world experience. They've got the training you need to handle jobs with efficiency, and you have the practical experience. They've got the goods—just like you—but nowhere real to practice them."

"You mean those guys," Vernon said, sitting up and recalling the three who had helped him in the fight against Rhino. "You mean—you want me to teach them?"

"I want you to work with them," Fury said. "Train with them, fight with them, lead what could be the next greatest team of post-humans."

"So basically, your solution is to sic a bunch of newbies on me as some kind of damage control," Vernon said angrily. "And what if I refuse?"

"Nothing," the spy answered simply. "You're not under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s official jurisdiction yet, so I can't do anything to you even if I want to—unless, of course, I absolutely have to. You're allowed to walk out of here right now, but I can't guarantee that that's gonna work out for you."

Vernon considered this. He knew a threat when he heard one, even when it wasn't a yell of SPIDER-MAN, I'M GONNA KILL YOU, but he also knew that Nick Fury's threats weren't always real threats. However, he did not like his chances.

"As long as they stay out of my business," he muttered, knowing that was the one thing they were least likely to do. He knew how closely teams operated, and it didn't take his spider sense to figure out that this team was going to be much nosier than that. He recalled the annoyed scowl on that Nova guy's face, and internally shuddered.

"It's a deal," Fury said pleasantly, as if Vernon had any choice but to accept the so-called 'deal'. "I'll be checking in regularly, so bear in mind that I'll know if you ever kill one of your teammates and throw their body into the East River."

"I would never go to that much trouble," he replied equally pleasantly, getting up. Then he glanced at the clock, and scowled. "I can't believe you made me skip my biology quiz for five minutes of parental guidance."

"Oh, I'd never lie to a teacher, kid," Fury said, patting his shoulder as he passed him. "A counseling session I promised, and a counseling session you will get."

Vernon glanced at the other agent in dismay, but she only smiled—whether in amusement or reassurance, he couldn't tell. She clicked her pen, picking up the pad, her eyes twinkling. "Settle down, Spider-Man," she said. "This will only take forty minutes."

Vernon almost considered opting out of eating in the cafeteria, but changed his mind at the last moment, knowing it was the only time other than first period biology he got to see Joshua on Mondays. He desperately needed to vent, and his bespectacled friend was the only one who even came close to understanding to the layers of his identity, one of which was a deep-rooted hatred for the universal authority on superheroes.

So he stalked right into lunch, barely noticing the gunk of whatever-it-was thwacking into his plastic tray, and headed for their usual table in the corner of the cafeteria. He didn't need to go that far to get to Joshua, however, as the blue-haired boy almost walked smack into him as he made his way there.

"Woah, woah, steady," Joshua said, grabbing his bicep to prevent them from colliding. "Why are you making like a steamroller towards that innocent little table? And what the hell were you during biology? What was that about?"

Vernon cast a careful glance around the cafeteria, at the crowd of people, one of which could easily overhear them in the close range. "I'll give you the details later," he murmured. "The cusp of the matter is: Fury blackmailed me into signing up for a team activity."

"Wait, wait, wait, Nick Fury?" Joshua asked in awe as they walked over to the table, gripping his tray tightly and hunching his shoulders, leaning slightly towards Vernon in interest. "You mean he was here, in this school?"

"Not even the first time, Josh."

"Not the—" Joshua shook his head, as if shooing away the thoughts. "Okay. Filing that information away for further perusal later. So you're telling me Nick Fury, super-spy, came to this place—" he spread his arms, indicating the school— "to talk to you. Man, sometimes I forget Spider-Man's supposed to be a household name."

"Shut up," Vernon hissed, casting a furtive glance at a heavily tattooed blonde who passed them by closely. "But yeah. And he asked me to team up with these noobs from the S.H.I.E.L.D. future program or something."

Joshua frowned. "But that's kind of cool, though, right?"

"Not if they're gonna slow me down," he replied. "Spider-Man's always operated alone, and—wait, what the hell?"

He stopped in his tracks right before the table, a stunned expression on his face. Joshua raised his eyebrows, following his gaze to the table, which was, surprisingly enough, already occupied.

She was there, of course, at her usual seat, the third from the left, except she was not alone. There was another girl, with dark hair and piercing eyes, picking at a soggy fry with her lips pursed. Next to her was a brooding blond with freckles that stood out against his shockingly pale skin. Last, but not the least, was the boy with the tanned skin who was making Vernon's best friend laugh so hard she was doubled over, a familiar cocky edge to his smile.

"Ah," Joshua said.

Lucy Langdon was one of Vernon's, and therefore Spider-Man's, biggest pressure points. She was also one of the only ones who had been left virtually untouched by all his superhero shenanigans, and he wanted to keep it that way. Though she was smart enough keep up with a few new trainees, as far as Vernon was concerned, she was strictly off-limits. Even to superheroes who could fly and called themselves Nova.

Vernon stalked over to the table and slammed his tray on the surface so hard he made everyone jump. Then he glared at the boy sitting next to her, the one with the bronzed skin, as Joshua stood by awkwardly. "You're in my seat," he said pointedly.

The boy cocked a lazy eyebrow, gesturing to the unoccupied seats opposite him. "I don't see your name on it."

Vernon ground his teeth, raising his hand (no doubt to petulantly slam it down on the table next to his tray) but Joshua grabbed his wrist, giving him a meaningful look. "Don't start anything that can be easily avoided," he muttered to the boy, and Vernon relented, albeit grudgingly.

"You're late," Lucy said conversationally, though your voice was higher than usual, probably because of the sudden tension that had descended upon the table. Vernon sat down slowly, still glaring at the boy, and she glanced at Joshua, who only shrugged. "These are, uhm, they're new."

"I figured," Vernon muttered.

"Three in one day? And this late into the year?" Joshua wondered aloud, raising his eyebrows. "Now I'm curious."

"Nothing worth your curiosity, I'm afraid," the new girl replied. Her eyes, when they swept over Vernon, were watchful and aware. "Just a coincidence. I was supposed to join earlier but there was a family emergency. As for these two, I can only guess." Her smile was small but sharp. "I'm Yeji."

"Felix," said the blond. He looked gloomy, but maybe it was just because of the unhealthy-looking pallor of his skin.

"And I'm Yangyang," the last boy said, with an impish grin that rubbed Vernon the wrong way. He already knew who these three were supposed to be—actually, everyone was supposed to know Felix, since Iceman was already a pretty famous member of the X-Men. Surely dyed hair couldn't be the only change needed to disguise that face? "Me and Felix are cousins, actually."

"Felix and I," Vernon mumbled under his breath, and Lucy gave him a look which he ignored. "Since when did you start taking people in for charity?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Be nice," she said. "They were in my Home Economics class, and if it hadn't been for Yeji here, I might have blown up the marble cake I was supposed to be making."

Joshua frowned. "How?"

"A story for another day." She smiled an unreadable smile, dark eyes sparkling. "Now—"

"No," Vernon said.

She glanced at him. "Excuse me?"

"No," he repeated. Then, as jerkily as he had sat down, he got up, and jabbed a finger at the new arrivals in turn, before pointing over his shoulder. "You three," he said venomously, "to the corridor. Now."

"Aw, man, I can't believe you're being so sensitive about this," Yangyang—Nova—complained loudly, though there was a shit-eating grin on his face as he followed Vernon into the hallway. "So Fury transferred us into your school without checking with you first. Big deal. What are you supposed to be, the queen of England?"

Vernon gave him a spiteful look, but otherwise ignored his remark. Instead, he focused on Yeji, who was watching him patiently, because she looked like the most sensible member of the group. He stared at her for a long moment, struggling to find the words that would convey the exact measure of his indignance. "Why?" he asked finally, giving up.

She shrugged helplessly. "Look, we didn't ask for this, either," she answered. "We're under orders, so it's not like we can just up and leave. Huddling in the hallway isn't a smart decision, either—we already have all eyes on us because of being the three new kids who randomly joined on the same day, and this is only making us look even more suspicious."

Vernon glared at her, trying to think of a good argument, then gave up. He turned on Felix, who was standing off to the side with folded arms, still looking uninterested in the conversation. "You," he said, narrowing his eyes, "you're Iceman."

Felix looked at him neutrally. "Yes."

"You're not under S.H.I.E.L.D.," Vernon said, pointing an accusatory finger. "And you have enough real-world experience, so there's no reason for you to be here instead of with the X-Men—"

"Dude," Felix said frostily; no pun intended. "Drop it."

Yeji nodded, giving Vernon a meaningful look he could not decipher.

"Aw, come on, web-head," Yangyang interjected. "We saved your life and you didn't even thank us, but I'll let that go since your manners aren't exactly polished. But this is just boring."

"It is not," Vernon seethed. "I'll talk to Fury—"

Yangyang snorted. "Good luck with that."

"—or the principal—"

"The new principal," Yeji muttered. "Agent Coulson."

Vernon made an exasperated noise. "The only reason I even agreed to Fury's stupid offer was because I thought it would get him off my case!" he yelled. "School is the only part of my life that's separate from all the wacky crap I have to deal with otherwise, and now even that—" He clenched his teeth. "If I'd known it meant having you people barge into my life like this—"

"Then you couldn't have done anything about it, even knowing," Yeji said, gently cutting him off. "Face it, hero. You're stuck with us as much as we're stuck with you—whether any of us like it or not."

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 28

First time reader click here

TWs/SUMMARY: Hulk interaction Hulk interaction Hulk interaction. Plot is thickening. Feelings. Operation Baby Thief! A wild Coulson appears. Lokireader besties <3 There's just a lot going on.

Bruce hulked out within minutes of my confession.

As I stood in the middle of the common room, partially hidden behind Loki and scrunching the fabric of my hoodie, I had no choice but to observe the reactions of various Avengers to the fact someone might have... Predictably, Sam, Tony and Stephen looked like kicked puppies. I trusted Loki to handle that part. Steve, Bucky and Natasha had murder on their mind and Thor, Pietro just stared at me, aghast.

I noticed the tinge of green before anybody else, perhaps, because I'd been used to automatically seek comfort from Bruce. My interactions with Hulk, however brief and few and in-between, were positive. As much as they could be with a someone's alter-ego that possessed the emotional intelligence of a twelve year old. So I could safely say that what startled me was the noise of Bruce transforming and not the Hulk himself.

The Hulk growled, zeroing in on me - I remembered of Loki, who stood frozen, and their mutual disregard. The decision was prompt - I stepped out from behind the Asgardian, waving shyly at the large green creature. He was LARGE. Like, I could comfortably sit on one of his shoulders.

"Hey, Hulk. I'm alright, don't worry big guy," I took unhurried steps towards the agitated creature. He seemed to be satisfied with my statement, giving me another once over and growling quietly in the back of his throat. An idea struck me: "Wanna get out of here? The gym has more space, we can sit and talk there."

The stares I was getting were downright incredulous. Here I was, an average human being, fearlessly making my way over to the destruction machine that was the Hulk. I knew he wouldn't hurt me - on purpose.

"No," He growled. "We find bad man. Then Hulk smash." The green creature raised, I had to admit, valid points.

"It's going to be pretty boring though. We have to sort through the security footage, then probably traffic cams, then hold Steve back from going in there in Terminator mode..." I listed off all the logical steps of the investigation until I reached the Hulk. My neck was going to get a crick in it from tilting it so I could see his face. "I'd rather..." I didn't get to finish my sentence as I was suddenly picked up. One large hand gently cradled me to Hulk's chest, akin to a kitten, the other hand landing right under my butt.

I heard a collective exhale from the team, acutely aware of the way they were eyeing me and Hulk.

"Boring," The green creature agreed. His face briefly contorted in what I perceived to be an intense thought process. "Necessary." The word had to come from Bruce; it slipped out with difficulty off the Hulk's tongue, stiff.

"Not you too, big guy," I giggled-slash-groaned, giving a playful slap to the hand wrapped around me. "Fine. Let's get this over with." I looked around in search of a spot for Hulk to park his butt somewhere. The ceiling was barely tall enough for him to comfortably stand.

I needn't have worried as he simply sat down cross-legged right where he stood, still holding me to his chest. "Now," He announced, looking expectantly at Tony.

The engineer chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah, you're right, big guy. Let's find this sonuvabitch." Tense snorts and sounds of agreement filled the room, drowning out the noise of Tony tapping on his keyboard and communicating with Friday.

I poked Hulk in one green, large finger. "Maybe I could sit on your shoulder?"

He nodded, letting me crawl all over his green, hard chest and arms to sit on the large expanse of his left shoulder. It was comfortable as far as shoulders go; inwardly, I squeed like a mad woman. I was friends with the Hulk and I was sitting on his shoulder! Lost in my fangirling, I absentmindedly began messing with his dark hair, only noticing it when satisfied rumbling started coming from his chest. The Hulk was... Purring?

"Puny Banner upset," Hulk declared shortly after the team found the man who drugged me and started tracking his movements. It wasn't someone who'd been invited to the party, which meant there was a serious security breach - it was all hands on deck kind of situation.

"Yeah, I can understand that. I'm pretty upset too, the hangover I got was terrible, I threw up in Loki's apartment," I said, frowning. "And my boys are going to mope now," I rolled my eyes.

"Banner says he will talk with them," Hulk replied, placing hand over my legs. "Hulk will help Banner."

I couldn't help it, I snorted. "Gonna smash some common sense into them?" He grinned at me, too mischievous for someone who was described to be a mindless destruction machine. "I think they're beyond that."

"I can hear you two talking shit about me and I do not appreciate it," Tony piped up suddenly, shooting us a hurt look. To be fair, his shoulders looked considerably less tense and the cloud over his face had dissipated by a little bit. Me and Hulk managed to erase at least some of the guilt away. I think. Stephen, however, still remained frowning and closed-off.

"You're stupid, Tony." Hulk answered, sounding a little bit smug. I gaped at the exchange together with Natasha and Steve. It seemed like Hulk's sense of... Humor was a novelty.

"Hey, don't pick on my dumbass white boys," I chastised the green... Man, side-eyeing him. "Only I can pick on them. If someone else does it, I'mma throw hands if I have to."

"Puny," Hulk replied petulantly, poking me with a finger, making me sway in my spot. I rolled my eyes fondly, settling in to mess with his hair again for the sake of having something to do with my hands. The brief exchange helped to get my overactive brain off the case but the tranquility didn't last very long.

Natasha and Bucky left to interrogate the guards responsible for the security breach, Loki shooting me an apologetic look and following the two. I smiled back, knowing the Asgardian wasn't fully comfortable being around the Hulk due to his previous experiences with the big guy.

"Wait, hold on. That guy. I know that guy." As an array of faces appeared on the large screen, a familiar pair of mismatched eyes stared at me from it. Hulk tensed under me and the team turned towards me expectantly as I shrunk slightly under their combined gaze. "The one with anisocoria - with the weird eyes. He works at a coffee shop near my school, actually he only started working recently, few months ago. He tried to flirt with me but Peter said he felt weird about the guy so I stopped going to that café." I explained the situation as eloquently as I could, seeing Clint's eyes widen at my story.

"Are you sure?" Stephen Strange raised an eyebrow. "Because that man is a mercenary that we have been looking for months."

I felt my heart skip a beat. "A what now?" My ears were ringing. Hulk growled quietly under me, evidently sensing my distress.

"A hired man," Clint typed on his phone rapidly. "Mostly sells not-so-harmless trinkets on the black market. Hydra, AIM, you name it. Anything for the highest bidder." Clint muttered. "I'm calling Peter, maybe he can tell us something more. This is an Avengers level threat." The Hawk's jaw was firm and his face was hard.

"Already on it," Tony looked shaken. I understood him - someone like that had invaded his tower, his home. Hell, I myself felt like someone had spit right in my soul. It was my home, too, to some extent.

"Let me down please, Tony needs a hug," I whispered to the Hulk, who begrudgingly did as I requested. I padded over to Tony, wrapping myself around him, burying my face in the crook of his neck. He always was my comfort; expensive cologne and motor oil filled my senses as my arms clutched at his chest from behind. I didn't expect reprocitation - Tony wasn't the one for emotional vulnerability.

"He could have gotten you," He whispered, almost inaudibly, fingers shaking where they typed rapid-fire commands.

"Bold of you to assume I would have gone down without a fight," I answered as calmly as I could. "He is either dumb, or reckless or has nothing to lose. Planning a coup in the middle of your tower..."

"Or he's showing us that he can just do that," Clint supplied unhelpfully. "The guard who let him in just has been found dead and his family is missing. Natasha texted, she's calling in SHIELD. This is now Operation Baby Thief."

I couldn't help the snort that escaped my lips. "Baby Thief, really?"

"Nobody's stealing Princess," Tony barked, finally turning his head and pressing a sloppy kiss to my cheek. "Not if I have to do anything with it."

"I will make sure the pathetic mortal scum never walks," Thor finally piped up, voice low. In the distance, the harsh noise of thunder and pouring rain echoed through the city.

I frowned but withdrew from Tony, finally feeling well enough to do something. My hands itched to help and as appealing as snuggling with Hulk appeared, my brain had gone straight into overdrive. "Should we take a blood sample to find out what he dosed me with? It's not Roofies, and the hangover is too shitty for it to be anything like Ecstasy." I mused out loud, pacing in the small space between the Hulk and the nearest wall.

"That is a sensible idea," Doctor Strange piped up, giving me an appreciative look. "We'll wait for Romanoff," One angry look at his own scarred, shaking hands, Stephen went back to the book he was reading. He needed a hug, too, I decided.

"Puny Banner will do it," Hulk suddenly announced, reaching out for me.

I obliged, giving the green giant a hug. "Maybe we can go play in Central Park once it's warmer, whatcha think?" I looked up at him, brain just so full of different things. Ideas bounced off one another like ping pong balls.

The Hulk grinned and... Well, I didn't see the transformation, my eyes shut themselves as soon as I felt the flesh under my palms begin to shrink and expand. It wasn't that I was afraid, rather, the feeling was so bizarre that my racing brain had to automatically shut down in fears of being overstimulated.

"Hi," Bruce supplied meekly, an adorable blush staining his cheeks. I didn't resist the urge to kiss and hold him close, and we stood there with him holding up his pants with one hand and clutching my hoodie with the other until Tony cleared his throat.

"You good, Brucie-bear?" The engineer gave a distracted smile towards us, not taking his eyes off the keyboard.

"Yes, Tones," The scientist replied easily, adding with a frown: "I'm glad me and Hulk finally agree on something." With that, he departed in the search of normal pants and the tools needed to acquire my blood sample.

I gave it without much fuss, waving to Bucky, Natasha and Loki that had returned with a middle-aged, balding man in tow. The shared look of amusement between Steve and Bucky and the man's starry-eyed look towards the Captain let me deduce it was one Agent Coulson, the very same man Tony couldn't stop telling stories about, the one with the Captain America trading cards.

So, mayhaps, me taking place in Stephen's lap while Bruce filled up three whole vials full of my blood wasn't exactly the smartest way to go about it. Tony found it amusing, Steve was shaking his head in fond annoyance and Stephen himself struggled to maintain his indifference, yet, the blush betrayed him.

"Agent, what brings you to our humble abode?" Tony snorted, seeing the man raise an eyebrow at the display of affection.

"Operation Baby Thief," Coulson replied with a sigh. "I see the Baby is secure. Keep it that way." Oh, the man was cheeky. I liked him already.

"The Baby has a Tony, a Sorcerer Supreme and a Hulk," I retorted haughtily. "And a functional brain. Fuck that guy."

"Indeed," Coulson snorted. "Tell me, what do you know about the Hamptons incident?"

I blanched, immediately tensing. Bruce withdrew the needle and pressed a bandage over the wound, running gentle fingers over my arm. Everybody must've noticed my surprise, turning to me with their faces full of expectation. Stephen's touch was calming, slightly trembling at the nape of my neck.

"Not much, to be honest. I was about thirteen when it happened and my mother tried to hide it from me," I chewed on my lip, looking away. "What I managed to find out is that there was a robbery that resulted in two deaths, my father being one of the suspects because he was high as hell on coke and he was found sleeping in the same room as the open gun safe," I recalled the memories of mother angrily screaming at dad, calling her law firm colleagues late at night. "I don't need a law degree to know the evidence was flimsy. Dad got a drug charge, his buddies got the same and both the killer and the gun were never found." I exhaled loudly, tapping my foot on the floor, supressing the need to pace.

Coulson nodded, opening a thin manila folder and producing an image of a small, wooden box with carvings that looked like runes on it. "Have you seen this object?"

I felt my blood run cold, my vision swam. "Yes," I swallowed dryly. "That's my end-of-the-world box. I buried it in my grandparents' backyard two years ago."

"End of the world?" Coulson asked, alarmed. "Did you open it?"

"No," I shook my head negative. "I found it in my room at one point and every time I looked at it, it felt... Wrong. Like it was a glitch in a computer game. I couldn't sleep, so I stuck it in my closet and that gave me terrible nightmares and sleep paralysis. I took it with me when I went to visit Gramps and buried it three feet deep under the cherry tree." My hands were shaking once again; I had forgotten about the box but my body remembered the primal, untameable terror that I experienced in it's proximity. At fourteen years old, I just thought I had an overactive imagination or something, too many horror movies, hormonal storms.

"That is a magical artifact," Stephen's voice was quiet and concerned. "A very dangerous, destructive at that. How long were you in it's presence?"

"About nine months, give or take."

"And you didn't open it once, not even a little bit?" Tony had caught on the trend, almost a hysterical edge to his voice.

"No, and I think I know why," I looked to the side. "I saw Wanda on the TV, and, like, magic was confirmed to be real, so I guess I was sure whatever is in there, it wasn't good. During that time, my parents told me I was sleepwalking but I can't remember any of it. I might have wanted to get that box to someone of your... Specialty," I briefly messed with the sleeve of Stephen's shirt, exhaling loudly when his hand grasped mine and held it with care. "I think that box messed with my head... Because I swear that I had no recollection of it until you brought it up," I realized suddenly, my eyes shooting up in blind panic. What else have I forgotten?!

"That is astonishing," Loki's baritone exclaimed. "Nine months is a long time to resist the pull of such a strong artifact." My best friend stated with a great deal of respect.

People in the room started talking all at once. Stephen and Tony declared I needed to get checked out by a professional - Tony meaning s doctor and Stephen meaning a healer of the magical kind; Bruce scooted over and pulled my frozen body in a solid hug; Steve and Bucky planned out to get the box from my grandparents' house, debating whether to take Loki or Thor with them; the SHIELD part of the team discussing the intel and further plans to catch the rogue mercenary.

The door opened quietly.

"Hi everybody, hello Mr. Stark," Peter was disheveled, his ratty backpack in one hand and an enormous sandwich in another. "Got here as fast as I could. What's up?"

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