#yannow...yannow what i mean

[mail-me-a-snail]

kinda like this is what im saying

[tallbluelady]

A Miranda themed Thigh Day, featuring an underutilized Zurvan.

Sex with a mortal man: Sex with Zurvan, the Demon:

[transhetanybodys]

Chat was it a bad idea for me to name the group of Twolegplace cats under the leadership to Jay/the predecessor to Bloodclan the Featherpaws? I know feathers are connected to a controversial issue in Warrior Cats, that being that artists drawing cats with feathers behind their ears is insensitive to Native American cultures, but they're not named that because they wear feathers or anything, it means that they can step so lightly that they can walk on feathers without disturbing them. They train to have really fine control of their movements and reach impressive heights with that even if the exact claim inherent to their name is obviously an exaggeration.

[sassycheesecake]

Osamu walks out of Physics class, happy that his classes are over and all that is left is volleyball practice.

He walks down the familiar path towards his twin brother’s class, basically collecting him on the way to the gym hall.

When he gets closer, he hears multiple sounds of something banging against the lockers and when he gets closer to the noise, he squints his eyes before they widen in shock at the sight of Atsumu Miya, second-year high school Setter of the Inarizaki volleyball club banging his forehead constantly against his locker door.

Now, he has two options.

One, move along and pretend he didn’t see any of this and make it to practice on time without his brother. But the big downside is that Atsumu would probably be late for practice if Osamu doesn’t say anything to him, which will end up in Osamu getting an earful from their mother later on at home.

Or option number two, ask what Atsumu’s deal is and hopefully they both still make it on time for practice.

Since Osamu doesn’t want to get yelled at later on by their mother, he begrudgingly chooses option two.

"Tsumu, if ya keep smashin' yer head against the locker, yer gonna lose the two braincells ya have left." Osamu says when he walks closer to his brother.

For a split second, Atsumu looks at his brother through his peripheral vision with a pissed look and then continues to bang his head against the locker.

'Wow, not even a comeback.' Osamu thinks while he continues to watch him.

"Stop it." Osamu barks as he is getting annoyed by the noise.

"'M tryin' ta forget bout earlier. Ya remember (Y/N)?" Atsumu stops and just leans his forehead against his locker door, a sorrow expression rests on his face.

Osamu frowns in confusion and looks to the ceiling for a second before returning his gaze back to his twin.

"Ya mean (Y/L/N) (Y/F/N)? The one that shared her lunch with ya and ya sweared ya tasted heaven?" Osamu raises a brow.

"Yes." Atsumu confirms.

"What about her?" Osamu doesn’t get it, if Atsumu looks so miserable, surely something devastating must have happened.

"I wanted ta confess my feelings ta her, so I made her favorite dessert and when I went ta see her, yannow what I saw?"

"What?" Osamu sighs.

"She was talkin' ta Riseki!"

"Is she suddenly not allowed ta talk ta other people besides ya? Tsumu I don’t know if yer brain registered it yet but this is a high school. There’s more people than ya she can talk to. And so what if Riseki was talkin' ta her? What’s the big deal?!" Osamu is getting impatient since he doesn’t understand Atsumu‘s point of view.

"That’s not the point dipshit! Riseki asked her out and she said no because she said she is in love with another guy." Atsumu almost wails.

"And?… Does your story have an ending or is this it?"

"Be patient asshole, I was gettin' there. So after I heard that, I was devastated….an' I didn’t realize (Y/N) came outta the room seconds afterwards an' I was so mad that I squished the dessert outta anger. She was confused an' asked if I was alright and I replied 'Shouldn’t ya ask yer crush?' and then I just left!" The Setter explains and gets angrier by the second, talking to his long-time crush in such a tone was just childish and rude as hell. You didn’t deserve that at all but Atsumu just felt his heart shatter at that moment, so he was angry and let it out on you. Now he is just highly disappointed in himself on how disrespectfully he talked to you.

On the inside, Osamu facepalms himself at the sheer stupidity of his brother‘s unawareness of your affection towards the blonde.

The signs are all there that you like Atsumu and vice versa but of course something complicated like the shit Atsumu pulled just pulled moments prior ruined his chance of confessing his feelings towards you.

"Well, (Y/N) finally talked ta ya. That’s sorta awesome."

"No Samu! Not 'awesome'! I ruined ma only chance at talkin' ta (Y/N) and I ruined it. RUINED IT!" Atsumu slams his head against the locker and the whole locker clutters by the force of it.

Osamu can’t help but feel bad for his brother, knowing Atsumu has been having a crush on you since the first year of high school.

Students who pass them are giving them weird looks but the gray-haired twin is not fazed by it.

"Tsumu, yer startin' ta get looks. Quit yer dramatic act and move alon'. There’s pleny of fish in da sea."

The Setter was quiet for a few seconds and Osamu was quite worried Atsumu got a concussion from all that banging of his forehead against the locker.

But then he speaks again, in a voice so sad and soft, it sounds like Atsumu is truly heartbroken.

"But I don’ wan' other fish. I want (Y/N)." He is actually getting teary-eyed.

Osamu gives out a big annoyed sigh and knows he is already regretting his words.

"Want me ta help ya win (Y/N) over?"

Atsumu whips his head in his brother’s direction, a hopeful gleam in his hazel-brown eyes.

"Yer not screwin' with me?"

"No. Twin promise, cross my heart and all that shit. Come on, let’s find (Y/N)." Osamu starts to move to the gym for volleyball practice and he hears a locker door shut and a rushing steps of feet follow him.

A/N: You guys want a part 2?😊

Here’s part 2

[arathejedi394]

tiny crack fic

"Your mother's name was Sarah," Barnes croaks. "You used to wear newspapers in your shoes."

"Okay," Steve whispers.

"Hold up!" Sam cuts in. "He knows your mom's name and that you used to wear newspapers in your shoes? And that's enough? Everybody knows those things!"

"He was my punk," Barnes then adds. "I was his wolf."

"Bucky!" Steve gasps, shocked for some reason.

"Huh?" Sam says.

"What?" Barnes asks of Steve. "It don't mean the same thing now as it used to!"

"You can't just say that!" Steve insists.

"What?" Sam pushes.

"Nothing," Steve insists.

"Used to mean whore," Barnes says.

"Bucky!" Steve gasps again.

"What?" Barnes answers.

"What," Sam responds. He blinks several times. "What."

"Whore," Barnes confirms. "A queer boy for rent, yannow."

"RENT?" Sam bursts out. "What the hell! What's a wolf then!"

"Used to be a punk's pimp," Barnes adds.

Sam gawks at Steve. Steve is blushing very hard.

"Had to gag you when I made love to you, too," Barnes adds. "You'd scream your pretty lungs out if you could."

"Okay, that's enough," Sam decides with a wave of his hand. "You shut up."

"Don't be homophobic," Barnes scolds.

"I'm getting a divorce," Steve sighs.

"You can't divorce me, I'm legally dead," Barnes answers.

"Huh?" Sam whispers.

"I'll divorce you if I want," Steve counters.

"You -- you can't be legally married," Sam says.

"Only sorta," Bucky says. "Dressed him up in a wedding gown and a veil back in 1935, used fake papers, hitched him up good."

Sam leaves.

[abilouwrites]

THE LOOK OF LOVE

THE RUSH OF BLOOD

I don’t believe in love at first sight, I think it’s stupid- or a myth. Something like that. When I met Bakugo Katsuki it was during his winter internship with Endeavor. I was working as an intern to grasp the ropes of managing a top hero Agency. I was also testing the waters on media management while I was there. I remember it very distinctly, his angry being stalking into the building. Boots chunking off snow as he stomps his feet against the carpeting, “this is y/l/n y/n, she’s also interning here for general management. Same school” Endeavor introduced me and I waved hello. A familiar greeting to Shoto, him and I have grown comfortable with each other, spending many nights eating a late dinner or catching up on homework.

“This is Midoriya, and Bakugo, they’re both interning with me this period”

“Yeah I’d assumed so, would you like me to set them up? Or should I resume work on the billing and media information on the last villain you captured?” I ask, shifting slightly to peek at the blonde.

“Resume work on the media. You can do billing tomorrow” He informs me, the fires of his beard flare slightly as he waves me off.

The second time we met is at dinner, only a few days later placed into the home of Endeavor and Shoto. The three interns and myself all invited to dinner.

“It feels so awkward.. like I shouldn’t be here yannow?” I pitch over to Midoriya, “it’s not like I’m training to be a hero..”

“Uh. I can see what you mean, but you’ve been working with him for a while know haven’t you? I was doing some reading about you online, you’re very talented at pulling to younger audiences with your media style. Is that a hobby or quirk related?” He asks as we walk in and slip our shoes off.

“It’s mostly a hobby, my quirk is really just time warping but I can’t travel through time, it’s just physically impossible. I’d have to literally blend into a beam of light going light speed or faster than the speed of light. So it’s relatively useless. And I’ve got a bum knee so it’s not physically wise for me to be doing all that stuff.. I’d probably have to retire a year into being an official hero” I respond

“Thank you for dropping by with your busy schedules! I’m Fuyumi, Shotos older sister. It’s nice to meet you!” She cheers excitedly, eagerly introducing herself. She’s in a turtleneck, a soft lilac color with an apron around herself. Midoriya is also as eager to introduce himself to her— extremely appreciative to have been invited.

“I’m y/l/n, it’s a pleasure to meet you, thank you for the invite”

Midoriya apologizes for his attacks against Shoto during the sports festival and Shoto makes it known that Fuyumi is aware it was all in good fun.

Once we’re all seated Fuyumi introduces herself and Shotos older brother, “I teach at an elementary school nearby, and this is Shotos older brother Natsuo, he’s in college”

“Hey, what’s up?” He doesn’t smile and looks awfully uncomfortable to be in this situation. I’ve head of the tensions in the Todoroki household, but seeing it truly play out makes me feel out of place.

“Shoto, this is where you introduce us to your friends” Fuyumi reminds

“Right. These are two of my classmates in the hero course Midoriya and Bakugo. And this is y/l/n, she is in the business course and hero management”

“Uh! It’s nice to meet you” Midoriya remarks, squaring his shoulders as he introduces himself nervously.

It’s a tense dinner, and I’m more than happy to be on my train ride home, mostly because I don’t stay weekends, I have no need to head back.

“Whoah! An attack on the way home, is Natsuo alright?” I ask Bakugo, mostly because he’s the first face I see as I enter the building.

“Uh.. yeah he’s alright. Probably shaken up. What’s it to you?” He goes on the defense, “you said last night you have no interest in being a hero.”

“You didn’t listen, or maybe you did but not that well. I did want to be a hero, very briefly. I was great at the physical side, the quirk needed time yes. And then I took a bad step during a volleyball game. I shattered my knee so badly they gave me a metal one. I can’t be a hero with that” I shrug, “and I have to keep updated. Media management” I point to the lanyard around my neck.

He just stares at me, this tense expression on his face, “ok.. whatever” he scurries off, eager to find himself at the need of Endeavor.

Seeing him around the halls has me smitten, this fuzzy feeling of a crush overwhelms me. He gifts me a singular wave, each morning. We wave to each-other. Sometimes he talks to me, sometimes I talk back, “how are you? I heard you were involved in an attack” he asks, taking a notice at the scar on my arm. One that should fade in a few weeks

“Oh, I’m alright.. it was pretty scary out there. It happened when I was walking home, he just came out of nowhere it took me completely by surprise. I’m thankful there was a hero there that’s for sure” I grin a little, shifting my hair from in front of my face to behind my shoulder.

“Do you walk through a bad neighborhood?” He inquires, I furrow my eyebrows and nod slowly.

“It’s not terrible, or like bad bad but yeah it’s a little sketch. But if I go around it it takes me an extra twenty minutes.. so it’s a little worth it”

“Jesus Christ.. you’ll get yourself killed” he rolls his eyes slightly, “meet me here after school alright?”

“Uh.. ok?” I shrug, somehow unphazed by his sudden interest in me. Although it stirs my curiosity just slightly.

It stirs through my mind in my classes all until I walk past him in the halls. He calls me out, and I wait until he catches up to me, “good day?” I ask as we walk next to each other, “and don’t you live at the dorms?”

“I do. And yeah.. it was good. The damn nerd keeps talking and stupid chargebolt fried himself stupid” he speaks a little softer, although I do notice the frustration in his voice and in his brow.

“So then.. why are you walking with me? I don’t live on campus- it’s so much easier for you” I bring to his attention

“Yeah why don’t you. Live on campus I mean. The commute for you would be so much easier”

“My parents are divorced, uh so I go to my moms after school and then two to three times a week she brings me to my dads but he lives an hour away by car” I admit, “it’s not embarrassing.. I just never really talk about it”

He nods slowly, I make a left turn and he follows, “what?” He asks when I turn at him.

“Uh.. you’re following me?” I tilt my head slightly and he pushes a hand through his spiky hair

“Yeah, dipshit. I’m walking you home” He says it so matter of factly I’m startled. I open my mouth, “stop asking stupid questions and just accept that I’m doing this! God!” He shakes his head and continues following me.

“If you’re gonna follow me don’t be a creepo, walk next to me” I murmur, just enough so he can hear me. Just enough for him to walk next to me, “Bakugo, so you like.. what?”

“Drums. Uh being a hero”

“Have you always wanted to be a hero?” I ask, he nods and takes a moment to think

“Yeah, I mean hasn’t everyone? I was born with this amazing quirk. Why wouldn’t I want to be one?”

“Were you an All Might fan? Or are you?” I ask, “no shame I’m just asking”

His face flushes and he stares down at his toes, “yeah. I mean who isn’t?”

I smile, a wide beaming smile as I grin at him, “what! I’m sure you were obsessed with him or some other hero”

“I was always a really big fan of Eraserhead. Dunno why, I just really liked him growing up, he reminds me of my dad”

“Oh, yeah he’s a good hero. An even better teacher”

“Yeah. That makes sense.. uh only a little while longer”

“This is.. a neighborhood” he notices, looking over at the overgrown lawns and boarded up houses. Upset dogs chained to wooden posts or chain link fences, “you walk through this place?”

“Yeah, on days where I don’t take public transports. At my dads I walk twenty and then there’s a train then I have to walk a little more so it’s not all bad”

“Huh..”

He looks around as I turn and then again into a brighter neighborhood. Sleek modern houses with low fences, “this is me” I say, at the house with the flowers and big pomegranate tree.

“You garden?”

“Yeah. Yeah I do.. uh.. I’ll see you tomorrow”

“Yeah..”

For the first time in a long time I wonder if love at first sight really does exist, I lay at my bed. Staring at my phone. Giggling a little when I see notifications from him.

[y/nnnn!!]BKUGKATS just followed you

[y/l/nMEDIA]BKUGKATS just followed you

[spammyy/n]BKUGKATS just requested to follow you

[y/nnnn!!]BKUGKATS sent you a message

Hi so this actually went thru three phases… uhhh…. I hope you liked it!! My apologies if it lwk sucked also yes I’m alive I was js a lil depressed

[stupidlittlespirit]

random thought.. but do you think Ford would be open to having a partner who isn't very book smart.. I think about this a lot because I'm not nearly as intelligent as he is,, (i'm sure most of us aren't but..)

..like I'm smart in some things but I never was an academic god yannow. I was in special classes all through out school because I learn slower than most people LOL, do NOT ask me to do long division. I STILL COUNT ON MY FINGERS AND TOES FOR SIMPLE EQUATIONS LMFAOOO

anyway

I think there should be more x reader fics about Ford and a not so smart reader (not saying you should be the one to write it obviously, i'm just throwing my opinion out to the world anonymously)

I feel like I see so many fics about the reader being his lab assistant with like 4 freaking PHDS or whatever, and I just feel so disconnected to the story when I read those because like, that's not me AT ALL.

(no shade to freaks of a feather btw, I LOVE THAT ONE ACTUALLY.)

idk. sorry. i'm just rambling to you now, I just mainly wanted to hear what you thought about my first question since ur like a ford pines pro or whateva. :-)

This is actually why I made the MTB AU.

I do appreciate the fics with Reader being attached to Ford in an academic setting but I am not that kind of person and I cannot see myself being smart in that way, personally. I like to learn etc but I'm not very academically inclined and I could NOT put up with the shit that man would run me through in that scenario. One smart word and I'm beating his ass.

So, I made MTB because I wanted Reader to be a bit more down to Earth (idk if that's the right phrasing?) and for them to be able to exist without competing with Ford. I felt like a lot of fics wanted the Reader to keep up with/out pace Ford intellectually and I'll die before I'm caught competing with a man, I'll tell you that much for free sfkjhsa

Absolutely NO shade to the fics in which this is the case, though, because there are still plenty of those ones that I enjoy!!!! It's just that when it comes to my own stuff, I'm more inclined to want to read as accurate to myself as possible and I don't have those kinds of talents. I'm not that kind of guy. Again, doesn't mean it's bad, I'm not saying that, I'm just saying I do not have the facilities for that LMAO

I love science and studies and all of that, but it can be fun to balance out Ford's intelligence with emotional stuff and make use of his personality beyond his academic capabilities. You don't need to compete with a partner, you make up their other half. So whatever he's bad at, you make up for and vice versa.

I don't think Ford would require a partner to be super 'intelligent'/book smart/theory smart. He'd be happy if you were, but he'd be equally as happy if you were just willing to listen to him yap about his smart stuff and cheer him on with it all. When he's older, he tells us himself that he's grown to value love and compassion and common sense equally with theory/book intelligence, and that he's a fool for ever thinking differently.

Sure, if you were unkind and rude and purposefully obtuse with no intention of learning and growing, he probably wouldn't like that very much, but he's not going to think less of someone he loves just because they're not hitting triple digits on the IQ chart. He loves his brother and Stan isn't up there in that regard, yknow?

Intelligence doesn't revolve around a singular type of definition. Intelligence exists in many forms. Just because you aren't 'book smart', it doesn't mean you're 'dumb' or anything, it just means your talent lies in something else. You could be very emotionally intelligent, or creative, or funny or kind or sweet or whatever example you want.

I think that's what matters to him in the end.

[luciaintheskyainthi]

what’s your favorite thing about peter parker?

Great question!

There's a few things that make me enjoy writing Peter Parker:

He's a resilient character and I am a mean writer. I enjoy (writing) emotional torment and Peter's consistently a character to get up and keep going (sometimes to the point of obstinacy and self-sabotage, which in and of itself can be an interesting perspective to explore). Ya boi is trying his best and I gotta give him credit for that.

The whole concept of his abilities is neat. Here's this very durable and very powerful young man, sometimes with borderline supernatural elements attached (for instance the Spider Totem storylines), who is determined to make a difference in the world, regardless of how others might think of him. I find that a very endearing quality. Plus it's fun to have a character who's just built different, yannow?

He has a strong moral code and steadfast belief in redemption and forgiveness. The whole 'with great power with great responsibility' thing is at the heart of his character (certainly within the comics and TAMZ / the OG Spider-Man movies... it took a long time for them to get there in the MCU Spider-Man movies and didn't have much of an opportunity/desire to explore it further by the end of NWH). Considering how much he's been put through in both movies and comics, that he continues to attempt to redeem his villains - even those who have hurt him horribly - says a lot about his strength of will. It takes a hell of a lot of courage and moral fortitude to maintain a mindset like that. and I think he serves as a strong moral teaching to readers/watchers.

As a lefitst, I enjoy the exploration of a working class hero and what this really looks like in practice. While I am writing my own stories with the MCU canon in mind, to me it's important to understand the distinctions between Disney's portrayal of Peter Parker (where he is very much NOT a working class hero), and most other portrayals in film/comics (Skip Intro's video on MCU Copaganda is very insightful about this topic, as is VerilyBitchie's video on SM, Class and Militarisation). I'm sure I'll only be partly successful at it, but I intend to explore Peter's character growing beyond the confines of the MCU's characterisation of him. Particularly the 'friendly neighbourhood' aspect of his title that was only ever hinted at but never actually explored in the Tom Holland movies.

(and most importantly from a writing POV) he's smart and he's funny. I love banter and Peter Parker is a character MADE for banter. He's silly and he's petty and he's irreverent and he's a goddamn nerd. And I love him for it!

So.... that's a long way of me saying 'I like Peter for X, Y and Z, but most of all I like him 'cause he's funny' 🙃

[forestclan-clangen]

I really enjoy how involved the cats are in this story, I can recognize every character and some of their traits/personality, which is something I struggle with with other comics

Youve done a great job making each cat not just a list of names and traits, but actual characters

Idk how to put this any other way, and I don't mean to insult other creators/comics

Ahhh thank you, I really appreciate it a lot <3

Honestly, it's REALLY HARD but it's also paramount that I do it, if that makes sense. especially with the kind of blog I'm writing (horror, w/ a ruleset that basically guarantees a cat MUST die every 7 moons, maximum), I'm trying hard to make sure that those deaths actually mean something, yannow? Like, no death is ever going to feel impactful if it's only on the characters that never have anything interesting happen to them. It takes a lot of thinking and granted I probably take more notes about what happens in Clangen than the average person, but it does pay off when I can make really strong impressions on readers.

Thank you for the compliment, I appreciate it a lot. I'll keep trying to make ForestClan cats characters that you'll actively want to root for (or yell at, in cases when they're being frustrating or combattive with their clanmates lol).

[joezworld]

Christmas Story

December 3 -  A few days later

The class 37 sniffed dismissively as Bear collected the train from him at Barrow. “Dunno why you need ta take this lot, I’s be good ‘nuff for ta job.”

Behind Bear, the trucks immediately began grumbling. 

“Good enough for what? A demolition derby?”

“He’s a brute!”

“We want a real engine! Not some bulldozer with bogies!”

“Oh, now he thinks he’s going to do a good job?”

“I feel like he broke something. I pity his next train!”

Both engines sighed deeply, and the 37 looked relieved. “Actually, I think the rotters are your problem now - take ‘em to someplace where they might be needed, like the scrapheap! Ha!”

He laughed heartily, only stopping when he realized Bear wasn’t laughing along with him. “What?” 

“I don’t get the joke.” 

“You- what?” The engine looked at him. “They’s trucks mate.”

“And?”

“They’s difficult. Jus’ make sure to biff ‘em around a bit.” 

“Why? That won’t make them stop.” 

Bear continued to look like he had no idea what the other diesel was talking about, and the 37 rolled his eyes. “Yannow what? Fine. Keep em’, I don’ care.” And with that, he growled off to the fuel pumps, muttering under his breath about “soft engines that deserved to be withdrawn.” 

The trucks sighed once the other engine had gone away, and Bear found that they gave him no trouble as he left the yard. 

“He was terrible!” One of them shouted as they crossed the bridge onto Sodor proper. 

“Awful!” chimed in another. 

“A right menace!” called a third. 

“We’re glad to be on the island again,” a fourth said. “At least you lot aren’t trying to hurt us!”

“That bad?” Bear asked with a raised eyebrow, mentally making a note of the engine’s number. 

“Worse!” chorused several voices, and The Many Detailed Accounts Of The Awful Class 37 continued all the way to Crovan’s Gate. There, he left most of the train in the goods siding, and went into the works yard to drop off a few trucks, and collect the rest of his train. 

He was expecting to find a few freshly-overhauled trucks, and maybe a coach going back to the big station, so it was a surprise to be sent down a line that led to the work’s small engine shed. 

Where am I going? He thought to himself. Looking towards the main shops building revealed that the same set of green-painted wheels were still propped up against a wall, just like the last time he’d checked them - so it wasn’t the engine he knew was there…

Further confusing the issue was a crowd of people around the turntable - the Fat Controller and his son being among them. “Sir?” he called, unsure of what was going on. “Am I in the wrong place?”

The Fat Controller turned around, not having heard him arrive. “Ah, Bear, exactly the engine I was looking for.” He turned to the other men, most of whom were wearing tweed suits with elbow patches. “As my son was saying, we certainly have enough Western Region equipment to hand! In fact, I dare say that we have more GWR equipment than you do!”

One of the men, who was wearing less tweed than the rest, smiled slightly. “If this all goes well you most definitely will, Charles.”

The other men chuckled to themselves, while Bear looked on in confusion. “Sir? Am I taking an engine with me?”

The Fat Controller’s son, Stephen - who would soon become the new Fat Controller - stepped forward. “Yes, indeed you are. As you may have noticed, the increase in traffic has left the Little Western wanting another engine, and while you have served admirably,” He waved a hand around the facilities. “You are often called away for other duties. So, with that in mind, we’ve managed to temporarily source another engine. If he does well, he will be working the line full-time with Duck and Oliver.”

“Does that mean I’m to be replaced by a steam engine, sir?” Bear asked, suddenly struck by a burst of mirth at the situation. 

The rest of the men laughed much louder than they had before, and the Fat Controller smiled. “Yes, as a matter of fact, you are.” He said jovially. 

Presently, a steam whistle sounded from inside the shed, and dark green tender emerged from inside one of the bays, wreathed in a cloud of steam. 

---

Arlesburgh

"You'd think the Queen was coming…" Rex murmured to nobody in particular.

"Nah," Bert replied. "He'd be calmer if she was."

The small engines watched the chaos of the standard gauge engines:

Duck was barking orders at workmen like an engine possessed. Everything in sight of the pannier tank engine (including himself) had been cleaned or polished to an almost mirror finish, and it looked like he was on the verge of critiquing the wardrobes of passersby. 

Someone had produced a roll of bunting, and despite its “ruddy anemic flag count”, it was being strung along the handrails of the pedestrian overbridge. 

Across the yard, Oliver and the coaches were red with embarrassment, and looked anywhere but in their friend’s direction as the workmen crawled over them with rags and polish. 

At the coaling stage, a grime-coated Donald glared daggers at several members of staff who were wielding a hose and brushes in a vaguely threatening manner. 

“What are they doing?” Mike asked, watching as Donald’s driver aimed the in-cab hose at the cleaners in retaliation. 

“Search me.” Bert replied. “Duck’s got some bee up his bonnet and is making it everyone else’s problem. Dunno why though.”

“Something about Cornwall, I think he said.” Rex put in. 

“Cornwall?”

“I think. He definitely mentioned Truro.”

“Why would they be spiffing up the place for a city? And why Truro?”

A moment passed.

The three small engines blinked in unison. “Oh no…”

-----

The train swept into the station with far more fanfare than it usually would have. City of Truro took one look at the celebratory atmosphere and sighed good-naturedly. “It would seem that I was anticipated.” 

Bear rolled his eyes at the spectacle and its hasty decorations. A limp bit of bunting drooped from the pedestrian bridge, bobbing up and down in the heat from his exhaust. “You’re lucky we were quick. I think they’d have gotten the brass band in another hour.”

“Hmm.” Truro murmured. The steam engine had been quiet almost the entire journey, quite opposite to the numerous stories that the other engines had told from his previous visit. 

Bear rolled his eyes. This entire journey had been an exercise in being ignored, and at this point he was used to it. Truro, either through tiredness or some late-onset pompousness, had scarcely said one word to him the entire journey, while every engine, coach, and quite a lot of the passengers they’d come across had needed to recover their composure after seeing that City of Truro was coupled behind Bear, at which point they immediately began directing all comments to Truro, and none to Bear. Truro had of course gone from quiet to chatty like flipping a switch, which left the diesel feeling rather put out, even if he couldn’t quite articulate why.

His only real comfort was that Gordon or James probably would have imploded by now, the glory hounds. 

There was a half-strangled peep from the yards, and he could see Duck looking as though he’d just witnessed the reincarnation of Christ. Ah, wonderful. He thought to himself. More well wishers for engines not named Bear. 

About the only thing stopping Duck from making a beeline for the train (aside from his driver) was the signal leading out of the yard, which was set for Donald’s stone train to leave. 

The steam engine did so, slowly, deliberately clanking his way through the station at a snail’s pace, drawing comments from Duck that somehow were both rapturous and ire-laden at the same time. 

“I’d be gettin’ while ye still can.” Donald whispered as he crawled through the station. “Lest you have to participate in this muckle circus too!” 

“You might be right…” Bear trailed off thoughtfully as his driver uncoupled him from Truro. Keeping in character, the “Greatest of all Westerners” didn’t say a word as the links were disconnected, and Bear let his crew drive him into the yard and out of sight, feeling like he was also very much ‘out of mind’. 

-----

Unfortunately, things did not get any better after that. 

Bear wasn’t party to the discussion, (being ignored again, perhaps?) but apparently some men from London had insisted that Truro - a “foreign engine, of unknown mechanical provenance” - required a support engine at all times, in case he were to fail while on a journey. 

Duck had been nearly apoplectic on Truro’s behalf, but the big engine was equally furious. The two of them made such a racket that Bear managed to stay informed on the situation despite being in a different shed, and so he was not surprised when an inspector woke him up in the morning and told him to ride on the tail of Truro’s first commuter train. 

The morning passed in the now usual manner of Truro not even acknowledging that there was another engine on the train, but somehow managing to find the energy to chat with seemingly everyone else. 

Bear was beginning to feel well and truly slighted, and mentioned it to his driver as they pulled out of Haultraugh. 

“To be honest,” his driver said carefully. “He’s probably an introvert.”

“A what?”

“Introvert. It means that he doesn’t like talking to people much, or being in groups.”

Bear made a noise. 

“No, hear me out.” The driver rolled his eyes. “He probably doesn’t like it, but he’s famous enough that he’s got to talk to everyone so he doesn’t come off as a right bellend by not saying anything to them.”

“So he can act like that to me?”

“Have you shown one bit of interest in him as a famous engine?”

“… When you put it that way, no.”

“There you go, then. You haven’t tried being a screaming fan like Duck, so he thinks you’re not interested.” He paused for a moment, thinking something over. “Heck, he’s probably grateful for the peace and quiet, ha!”

With that, Bear felt a bit better about the whole situation. Maybe Truro was just shy, and nobody ever let him have a moment to himself. Maybe, he was just over-reacting. It was the early days of the Christmas rush, after all. Everyone was already busy, so Truro probably had a lot on his mind.

With that matter settled, Bear paid it no mind, and the rest of the morning went very well indeed.

Then came noontime.

-

The mid-day trains were always more crowded than the morning ones, as shoppers flocked to the stores and markets of the big city. Additionally, news of Truro’s arrival had spread by word of mouth, and more than a few people boarded the train just to say that they had rode behind a “famous engine.”

This meant that the train soon gained not one extra coach, but two, now stretching out to five carriages, plus two engines. It was a long and heavy train, and Bear soon found that he was having to help push, especially on the uphill section between Haultraugh and Arlesburgh West. 

This seemed to cause some amount of upset to Truro, whose chuffing got rougher and crosser sounding as they went along the line - although if he was actually upset, he didn’t say it loud enough for Bear to hear.

Oh, Bear thought to himself. I hope he’s not berating himself for getting old or anything. It’s really not his fault; These new coaches just aren’t as light as the ones from his day. 

This continued as they went up and down the line, until eventually, a huge lump of flaming cinders shot out of Truro’s funnel and splashed into a pond along the lineside!

“I hope that was only bad coal…” Bear said as the smoke from the clinker dissipated in the wind. “Otherwise there’s something wrong with Truro.”

He wasn’t the only one who thought that, and at Haultraugh, Truro’s driver stopped the train and began looking the engine over thoroughly. Engine and driver seemed to exchange some harsh words, but they were quiet, and nothing made it down the train. 

“Um, excuse me, Bear?” A voice said from alongside him. It was Isobel, one of Oliver’s autocoaches. “But we need to keep to schedule. Are you going to move?”

“Ah…” Bear suddenly realized the situation he was in: 

With three coaches, he and Truro could very easily fit within the confines of Haultraugh station’s platform. 

With four coaches, each engine would overhang the edges of the platform slightly, but it shouldn't cause an issue for passing trains. 

But with five, the coaches barely fit within the length of the platform, and both engines were well beyond the edge. In fact, they stuck out so far that they were fouling the points controlling the single track line at either end of the station. This meant that Oliver and his train were effectively trapped inside the station until Bear and Truro left. 

And considering how closely Truro’s driver was looking him over, that might take some time…

----

The Fat Controller met the train at the big station. “I will admit, this was not a problem I anticipated.” He began. “But there will be a solution by tomorrow, I assure you.”

“Sir,” a voice began, and it took Bear a long moment to realize that it was Truro - he’d almost forgotten what the engine sounded like. “Could the solution possibly be that I handle this by myself?”

“Unfortunately no,” the Fat Controller said gently. “While nothing that’s happened today is in any way your fault, Truro, it did have the unfortunate effect of proving, ahem, certain people, right. For the moment, you will have to run with another engine, and seeing as how Duck and Oliver are the only engines on the branch who can run with auto-coaches, Bear will have to remain with you.”

Bear couldn’t see, but Truro must have made some kind of face, because then: “And if Bear were to… become unavailable, I would have to substitute in whomever is available, like Delta, or Wendell.”

Bear rolled his eyes. Wendell and Delta were both significantly longer and heavier than he was, and he wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or insulted that this was being used as an incitement to behave. 

--

That night, the evening rush was calm enough that the train was able to go to four coaches, and there were no more issues at Haultraugh, although Bear did notice some inspectors measuring various parts of the station’s infrastructure as night fell. 

Truro continued staying mum, and while it did seem like he was just “an introvert”, something still niggled at the back of Bear’s mind. 

Whatever it was, it stayed there all night, and while Truro joked and laughed with Oliver and Duck well into the early morning, it took Bear a long time to fall asleep. 

---

The next morning, the Fat Controller’s “solution” was simply to put Bear and Truro at the same end of the train. Neither engine seemed to understand how this was any better, but the inspectors assured them. 

“It means we know which end of the train we can dangle off the platform,” said one. “You’re not carrying any passengers.”

“If we time it right, there won’t be any delays.” Said another. “We can have oncoming trains come in a minute earlier or later so the long end doesn’t block them.” 

“We’re doing this so that we don’t have to de-board only the first few carriages.” Said a third. “While still making sure that we have one end of the loop open.”

“This is called a saw-by maneuver.” Said a fourth “We’ll just have to be careful not to schedule any other long trains, lest we have to do a double!”

To put it bluntly, the engines did not understand the men’s reasoning, but indeed, when they reached Haultraugh with their five coach train, Duck was able to depart easily while they waited at the platform. 

“Well,” said Truro to no-one in particular. “I suppose they were right.”

“I worry what would happen if we run against a goods train, though.” Bear said, trying to remember how long the stone trains got. 

“Must you bring such negative twaddle into this?” Truro snapped. “The last thing we need to hear is things such as that from you.”

Bear was speechless, and when the signal dropped a moment later, he was roughly jerked into motion by Truro setting off as quickly as he could. 

--

They arrived at the big station without another word being spoken. As the passengers streamed out, Truro was uncoupled from Bear, and rolled off to the coaling stage. Bear, having a quite large diesel tank, wouldn’t need fuel for a while, and was timetabled to run the next train to Arlesburgh and back by himself. 

This duty (and its sudden lack of City of Truro) pleased him greatly, and he was practically in a good mood as he rolled into Haultraugh. 

“Mummy, where’s the steam engine?” a little boy on the platform asked, loudly, and Bear’s face fell so quickly that it could have qualified for a speed record of its own. 

To make matters worse, Bear hadn’t even pulled into the station yet, and so multiple people on the platform saw this happen. 

And felt sorry for him. 

Bear knew that they felt sorry for him because they came up to him and told him so. 

And then the opposing train was late, which meant that other people, including the child’s mother, thought that he had been so greatly offended that he wasn’t going to leave with the train until they said they were sorry. 

So they came and apologized to him as well. 

“I really am sorry,” Said the mother, after her son had apologized in a way that implied he had no idea that he’d caused offence. “He’s just really excited by-”

“Steam train!” The little boy shouted, as Duck’s train appeared around the bend. 

“Steam trains.” The mother finished, lamely. 

The boy was beside himself as Duck arrived, but his excitement quickly waned as he realized that it wasn’t the “right steam train.” Which of course meant Truro. 

“Oh don’t worry,” Duck said, as the woman gave up on not causing offence, and instead carried her child into the nearest coach. “Everyone has got a favorite.” 

“I can tell.” Bear just about kept a tone from his voice, which immediately proved to be the wrong decision, as it encouraged Duck to keep talking. 

“I mean, we can’t all be the City of Truro, right?” Duck was pushing his coaches from the back, and looked round to see where his favorite-est engine in the whole wide world was. “Where is he, by the way? He at the other end?”

“He needed coal.” Bear was almost surly, not that Duck noticed. 

“Oh! So he’s at the big shed, is he?” Duck looked thrilled. 

“Yes. Perhaps you can run with him for a bit.”

Duck’s eyes lit up just as the signal dropped, and Bear left in a hurry, before he could say anything unkind. 

----

The Big Station

“Do I even want to know?” Stephen asked, looking out of the office windows. There was a crew of men assembling a stage right next to the ticket windows. 

“Blame your sister.” Was all his father said, proving that he had something to do with this. 

“Bridget lives and works in London. How could she have anything to do with this?”

“Bridget,” His father was really trying to pretend like this wasn’t his idea. “Has made many friends in London. Friends in embassies, foreign countries, various charities and businesses… the list truly goes on.”

“And?”

“And,” Oh stop being so coy you infuriating old man. “Some of those people represent organizations that could bring money to the island.”

“Did you involve the tourism council in this?” He involved the island’s tourism council in this. 

“I did.” Oh joy, he admitted it, which means he has another scheme brewing underneath this plan. 

“Which means…?”

“Don’t you want to figure it out for yourself?” 

“No. No I don’t. I cannot think of anything I’d rather do less.” 

“Anything? What about a root canal?”

“They have anesthetic, and talking to you is like extracting teeth. Please don’t make every little detail into a teaching moment, I beg you.”

The twinkle was still there, and Stephen had a brief moment of horror at the idea that someday he would be doing that. 

“Well, if you insist,” His father went on. “The Island Council has been trying to attract foreign investment, and it would seem that they have been having some luck with it, although even I don’t know the full specifics.”

“Dad, is that stage going to be for some American huckster to hawk timeshares-”

“No, no, nothing of the sort!” Charles placated. “The stage is there for musical appearances.”

“What?”

“It’s a hearts and minds campaign. Advertising! But on a much more… subdued and charismatic scale. There won’t be any products, or grandstanding, just soothing Christmas music from around the world.”

Stephen could now (mostly) wrap his head around the idea, and approved of it (for now), but he could still feel one or two shoes getting ready to drop. “And who is going to sing this? The church choir? They can’t get through Good King Wenceslas without drifting several octaves.”

“Oh, good heavens no! That’s where your sister has come in; She knows a good number of foreign relations organizations who help organize things like this. They’ve lined up several bands with the help of their respective embassies.”

Aha, here is the bit that will give him a migraine. “So you’re telling me that we’re going to have a rotating bunch of… well it sounds crass to say it like this, but, foreigners, standing on the station platform, bellowing Christmas songs at our passengers for the next week?”

His father smiled, which was usually a bad sign. “A week? Oh no Stephen, they’re going to be here all month!” 

----

Later, Bear rumbled back into the big station. It had been a veritable cavalcade of small delays that meant he got later and later the further along he got. By the time he arrived, it was almost time to leave on the return journey, and he’d spent so much time idling in stations that his fuel tanks were almost empty. 

Fortunately, the station staff had prepared for this, and he was uncoupled from the train as soon as he arrived. He expected to be pulled out to the sheds, but his driver instead dashed away, mumbling something about the toilets. His second man rolled his eyes, and retired to the station pub for a cup of tea. Now left alone, Bear was very surprised to see BoCo of all engines roll past him with a quiet honk.

Less surprising was the irritated hiss of steam from Truro, who was behind BoCo and facing the wrong direction.    

In just a few short minutes the two engines were coupled to the train, and once the passengers boarded it was off, disappearing into the distance and leaving the station quiet. 

Or, rather it would have been quiet, if there hadn’t been a number of people tuning instruments next to a bandstand that definitely hadn’t been there an hour ago. 

“Who are you people?” He asked, more than slightly confused. There were at least a dozen of them, somehow. 

One of them, who had just finished pinning up a large… American flag? behind him perked up and did a melodramatic bow. “We’re the band!” 

“Band for… what, exactly?” 

“Christmas music!” He exclaimed, just as someone else finished writing on a large signboard. It read: 

TOMMY GERMAN & THE DANKE SCHON-DELLS 

PRESENT

AMERICA’S CHRISTMAS HITS

(sponsored by the US Embassy, London)

This made�� well it made no sense, actually, but Bear had no idea of what to do other than to say “Alright.” in as neutral a tone as he could, and wait for his driver to return from the toilets. After it was clear that they didn’t have a receptive audience, the band continued turning their instruments (and goodness there were a lot of them), before deciding “Do we want to rehearse any?”

They did, and soon a woman was stood in front of a microphone, while everyone else picked up instruments that seemed like they’d be of more use to a marching band. 

Bear suddenly had a very bad feeling in the pit of his fuel tanks. I don’t think this is going to be I Saw Three Ships…

A very loud trumpet chorus reverberated through the station, followed by a much deeper instrument. 

Then… 

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas

Only a hippopotamus will do…

“what?”

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Nicole's rant: The Venom Problem

Contains spoilers for Venom: The Last Dance.

‼️ This might be a controversial opinion but i’ll say it anyway.

let it be known i’d love to have just straight up 1.5 hours of raw footage of eddie and venom just hanging out doing stupid shit, just let tom hardy and his comedy shine. please. i wouldn’t be criminally offended if rhys ifans & the hippie family joined.

ps: i don't mean to hate anyone liking this movie. to each their own. if you liked it, then that's also fine. this is my opinion and you don't have to agree. i was raised on early marvel (the incredible hulk, blade, elektra, iron man...) so i'd say i can tell a decent superhero story from something utterly mid, if even that.

because… what in the fuck is venom: the last dance (2024)?

madame web (2024) war flashbacks hit hard with this one.

who wrote this? and who said it’s a good idea? WHY and HOW did tom hardy produce this?

COLUMBIA YOU HAD THE RIGHTS TO VENOM FOR 3 MOVIES.

i’m not sure if it’s copyright issues or something, but there’s surely SOME OTHER storyline that you could capture into the movie instead of whatever the last dance is.

not that carnage was any good, but a) woody harleson (we stan a king) and b) it’s not expected for every movie to be 10/10, mishaps happen. it was a fun little experiment and we get it. pop off, sister. atop, it was directed by andy serkis (we love a king).

BUT HOW DID YOU FABRICATE A SECOND CARNAGE?

because oh wait, you didn't. let there be carnage (2021) was so weird and bad it was actually endearing in a sense. it defo embraced the silly side and yannow what? looking back at it, i'll trade it for the last dance without a second thought.

first off: how does this have 81% on rotten? huh? pls give me the deets of your dealer because i need the shit you've taken before viewing it.

why open with a reminder that venom and peter parker ALMOST met in the MCU? why teasing with what could’ve been but WASN’T?

tom hardy doesn’t look like he wants to be there and covering it with having a “perpetual hangover” might be the best fucking bandage anyone came up with.

“i’ll consider going for playing venom again IF i get to fight spider-man” TOM MY BOY TELL THEM.

baron mordo was done dirty, yes, but THE UNSPEAKABLE HORRORS venom did to my boy Chiwetel? my boy looked like he’s forced to be there. 0 chemistry, 0 passion. someone give him a break.

whose idea was to cast Juno Temple? there’s not a single ounce of soul in those eyes. miss girl doesn’t change her facial expression once for the entire movie. at first, i thought they truly casted paralysed actress, which was one points i defended the movie with.

then i learned she’s not???

rhys ifans & alana ubach? 10/10.

every scene inside the laboratory was a mandatory chore.

didn't we forger something? like fucking anne for example???? and you give her what? a single name-drop. fuck off. (i'd yeet too after reading the script i think)

andy serkis dropped by for a guest appearance ig.

mrs. chen. how do i start?

i almost walked out of the theatre on that sequence. that’s my petty personal issue and i’ll admit as much, but WHERE did everyone put their brains? like that sequence doesn’t make any sense.

i mean ofc they can meet in las vegas. ofc, gamble. BUT THE REST?

does the main plot line even make sense? like are venom and eddie super special or can any of the symbionts make the key with their host??? (tbh that might be me zoning off and not the movie’s fault)

the movies’s 4/10 at best. eddie and venom scenes? 10/10. anything else? mandatory chore

at least agatha all along (2024) popped tf off.

[sassycheesecake]

Based on this video. It’s fluff and a lil' suggestive. Sorry.

Dating the twin of someone sometimes has its perks and downsides.

That of course would be great to know, if your boyfriend of two months even shared with you beforehand that he has a twin.

But it is to be expected that someone like Atsumu would forget to mention that he has a twin.

It seems so naturally, it has always been the two of them. They were attached to the hip for good 19 years of their life, everyone knew them. The famous Miya twins.

Everyone, except you.

So one day, when you came to Atsumu‘s apartment after work, you saw him standing in the kitchen cooking something.

Yes, cooking without actually burning down the kitchen and hearing firetruck sirens in the distance.

Huh, maybe Atsumu picked up cooking lessons online or something like that.

You can’t deny, that it is indeed super hot.

What is also different about your boyfriend is that he has very dark hair now. Like, it’s almost a shade of black.

You do remember Atsumu mentioning that he was going to re-dye his hair soon but you didn’t think it would be THAT color.

Although, the cooking and the new hair color really suit him.

You step closer to your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his middle frame and you can feel him tense up.

"My, my. First cooking and then a hair change. What else is new? You also quit volleyball?" You mumble against his back, rubbing your face against the back muscles.

Not seeing him for almost three weeks, there was something else you missed.

Your hands wander down to his sweats and two hands stop you from going further.

Without saying anything, Atsumu pulls your arms from his frame and he turns around to look at you.

Now, this is getting a little freaky.

Something else changed.

His eyes.

They’re not the usual warm chocolate brown, they’re gray. Like a dark rain cloud.

Wait a minute.

You back away slowly, getting really freaked out by the complete plastic surgery change of your boyfriend.

"Tsumu, did you get surgery done while you were away in Seoul or something? I mean, don’t get me wrong I uh… like the new look. But your eyes? They were my favourite part about you. Always made me feel like I was drowning in hot chocolate. I didn’t know you can change your eye color. That is very dope. What made you decide to change everything? Did you kill someone? Is this some sort of protection so no one recognizes you in public?" You watch him with big eyes, rambling down your questions because your mind is running wild.

"Ya ask a lot of questions, don‘tcha?" Atsumu quietly laughs. His voice sounds a bit more rough too, not as light as you are used to.

All of sudden, a third voice joins you, coming from Atsumu‘s bathroom.

"Yannow, (Y/N) will be here soon. I think ya should go, thanks for makin' us dinner though." This sounds more like Atsumu. Wait. Then who is this?!

"W-Who are you?" You stammer out, backing away slowly until you feel the counter behind you.

"My brother didn’t tell ya he had a twin? Figured he’d be the one to forget to mention something like that. Nice to meetcha. Name‘s Osamu. I am Atsumu‘s twin brother." He gives you a slight smile as he introduces himself to you.

"Oh, uhm likewise. My name is (Y/N), I am Atsumu's partner." You blush as you introduce yourself back to him, mirroring his smile.

"Oi, did ya not hear me? Can ya leave-" The heavy steps finally come out of the bathroom, Atsumu is only wearing his MSBY training shorts, rubbing a towel across his wet blonde hair.

Atsumu stops in his tracks and looks between you and his brother.

Osamu looks at the blonde Setter, a mischievous grin adorning his face.

"Ya forgot ta mention ya had a twin. They thought I was you. Which I actually should consider offensive. 'm obviously the better lookin' twin."

"Shut yer trap asshole, 'm the one with the significant other remember? Ya've been single since ya were born." Atsumu scowls at first and then grins mischievously, like he just won the round.

Osamu is not done though. He turns to you.

"How long ya been datin'?"

"About to hit the three month mark, why?" You frown in confusion at Osamu, who turns back to look at his brother.

"Did ya hypnotize 'em or somethin'? Most of yer so called relationships lasted max a week or two, after they realized what a complete asshole ya are."

Osamu turns back to you, after seeing his brother‘s jaw open in shock at his remark.

"Do yerself a favor and run, I’ll hold ‘im down." Osamu stretches his arms out, basically forming a little wall to shield you from Atsumu.

Next thing you know, Atsumu tackles his brother from behind, jumping on his back.

Obviously Osamu didn’t see this coming, so he falls forward with a big grunt and tries to get Atsumu off of him.

You watch first in shock, then in amusement as your boyfriend tangles with his brother on the floor.

"Tsumu, I will just come by later on okay? Have fun and love you!"

You grab your bag and leave the boys to it.

Atsumu has his brother in a chokehold, messy hair and an adorable grin adorning his face as he returns your love.

Osamu uses the moment of distraction to knock him down again and that’s really your cue to leave.

You still hear a lot of rumbling, crashing, shouting and cursing from outside Atsumu‘s home but you can’t help but smile at the deep bond between the two brothers.

And you are certainly looking forward to meeting him again.

[sewer-sermon]

having an interesting realization rn. if my memory serves me right, and it should, that whole level towards the end of mpn that takes you on a tour of everything the Great Minds At Nexus are busy innovating never even once mentions the Enmeshment Program.

like, it even goes out of its way to mention the clone life insurance program, but like- not a single whiff of anything about jailbreaking the mortality loop or any exciting stuff like that you'd REALLY THINK a company like them would want to flaunt, right??

you can interpret this as you will, but what it means for my personal take on things is that it solidifies 2 ideas to me-

a) that crackpot's work was never finished, and An Army Of Mindless Zombies was never hys actual goal. hy wanted immortality, not... whatever zeds ended up as, which are VERY EASILY dispatched!! why would anyone looking for immortality settle for rotting bodies and declining cognitive function?? i think hy still talks hymnself up about how great and cool hys work was because hy has Literally nothing else to show for hys entire career & hy's angry and embarrassed about it so hy can't really just admit that hys entire career was a flunk, yannow? but i definitely don't think it was what hy was going for, and i don't think hy's ever been truly happy with the results. (i actually think hy has a horrifically guilty conscience about the state of zeds but that's for another ramble). and like, plus, why WOULD phobos advertise something that was unfinished to his investors?? like, it's not READY, and it looks TERRIBLE in the state it's in!!!

b) despite being Literal Insane People Talk and very clearly a bad idea, the enmeshment program was greenlit by phobos bc it made FANTASTIC busywork to keep crackpot out of his way. see, i don't think crackpot was apathetic to phobos's Project Gestalt related tomfoolery-- i think hy was genuinely too clueless and naïve to think His God Emperor Phobos could really pull something so horrifically evil out of his ass. i mean, the nexus charter was made to save the world, why would he wanna DESTROY it??? and with crackpot so worried abt hys own program- it would keep hymn very preoccupied, which means hy would have far less brain space to worry about asking questions or noticing weird little things that might potentially lead to hymn growing suspicious about phobos's real intentions. i do think phobos truly loves hymn, yes- but i also think phobos plays people like it's an Olympic sport, and is excellent at using blind loyalty to his advantage, and Crackpot is like, by far the most blindly loyal person at Nexus.

(also to be clear, i do think project kobold, the sleepwalker program and the seeking asylum were all similar tools to keep the head scientists busy and out of Phobos's way-- in tandem with the fact that he was able to get information out of them for his own work. jeb was the only one that didn't really fall for it LOL)

so like, tldr: enmeshment program was never actually advertised and to me this is because it was a dummy program to keep crackpot busy & out of phobos's hair, and also because it was never actually finished, and zeds were never supposed to be the end result, crackpot just acts like they were bc hy's angry and embarrassed about everything

[arathejedi394]

hi

so a little while ago in an ao3 note I mentioned my grandma not doing well. of my grandparents, both of my grandfathers died before I was 10, but my two grandmothers lived past that. I'm talking about my mom's mom in this post. my dad's mom passed away semi-unexpectedly about 2 or 3 years ago, and she was the ideal grandma. mom's mom died about a month ago. my mother and I were driving from our home state to hers the day it happened, we had maybe 40% of the trip completed and my uncle called to say it had happened. this grandma was racist, homophobic, transphobic, all the bad things you could think of. and she was mean. i lived with her for 6 months back in 2018 with the intention of making her life easier but what she did was make my mental illnesses worse. nothing I did for her was worthy of even a "you completed the task as instructed." she was 110% probably abused growing up bc her father did the nasty to my mother when she was a child, so no doubt he did it to my grandma, first. she survived breast cancer. she raised my mother who finished a master's degree in math shit. she failed to protect my mother from her father. it was my fucking luck that he died before I was born, even though I doubt my mother would have let him near me, and even still, what he did to my mother caused her to accidentally abuse me in a nasty way. i grew up assured in my place as her least favorite grandchild. and i was the grandchild to do the most for her; my two cousins who lived nearby would visit her, but for six months I was her maid and personal punching bag. i never made it out of last place despite that. i have a lot of conflicted feelings. i think about how I idolized her as a child and the next second remember her talking to a friend about the dark dangerous path her friend's granddaughter was going on by being a lesbian. i never came out to her, while the rest of my family I allowed to know. i let her see my beard a few times near the end, but she kept commenting that I should shave it off no matter how much I said I liked it.

and yannow the worst part? nothing to do with my grandmother's choices. my mother and her brother both had daughters in 1999 (one was me) but my uncle had one first and he picked the name of a family member. but my mother had been meaning to use that name for her first "daughter" (sike on her she has no daughters now just 2 1/2 sons plus 1/2 unholy offspring) so 10 months after my cousin's birth she named me the exact same thing. so I grew up knowing I was just the knock-off version of a granddaughter to my grandma. that her first granddaughter would always be better at everything bc I was the knockoff. i grew up as a matched set with "this one is always the 2nd place option" printed on my forehead. and I always felt that that was how my grandma saw me. always the last choice and always not enough compared to my cousin with the same fucking name. i managed one (1) feat big enough to satisfy her to the point where she talked about it regularly, and that was p u b l i s h i n g a n e n t i r e b o o k. oh other grandkid got an A on one test? celebrate. me, publishes an entire book, gets a review from fucking Hank Green?that's worth a thumbs up. a few brags to friends. not that much in the long run.

i don't know how to feel about her death. I'm thinking of trying to contact her using my spirit board and pendulum, but I'm not sure. she had no idea who I was. all she ever knew was the generic brand version of her ideal granddaughter. part of me wants to call her up and gloat over all the things I became that she hated, how it's fulfilling my life and brings me joy and she was wrong about. or try to actually connect with her for the first time now that she's had her beliefs about Christianity destroyed that maybe she'll be more willing to listen with that having happened. part of me thinks she's probably been reincarnated as something so low she won't be able to talk to me. some part of me just never wants to find out. idk.

[thesharkspajamas]

Jealous James

Requested by @im-kikimon - hope this is kind of what you were looking for :)

If anyone has requests or wants more of this AU please lmk I'm begging for feedback

Harriet - James' Pallas cat daemon

Gunnar - Ruby's badger daemon

Setting: the Beaufort twins are staying with the Bells after the mansion drama at the end of season one. (No real spoilers tho dw)

James listened to Kieran Rutherford’s pitch for an Ascot-themed Easter garden party. As outfitters to the King, the Beaufort family attended Ascot every year, and his mother always made every best dressed list.

“And what? We usher in Lexington in a carriage? So many people at Maxton attend Ascot that people would see it for the rip-off it is. You want to ask actual nobility to picnic like the Queen Anne enclosure?” James scoffed.

Rutherford flushed and his shoulders crept up to his ears. “Do… Do you have a better idea?”

The whole room turned to James, who did not, in fact, have a better idea. “I’m saying we can’t imitate something like that. We could keep the dress code and do a standard party - maybe themed with a flower type, hyacinths or something seasonal.” He shrugged, spinning the words out as they came to him.

Silence fell and the tension was thick as James had crushed Rutherford’s hard work a second time. Lin nudged Ruby until she stood up, “Um…” She hugged her notebook to her chest, and suddenly James felt embarrassed; she was clearly uncomfortable because he’d put her in an awkward position, again, without meaning to. He’d just tried to be helpful. “I think you’ve both got good points,” she nodded to herself as an idea formed, “maybe you could work together on this and come back next week with some solid ideas?”

Both boys scowled at her, but she thought it would be good for them to sort out their issues. She smiled and nodded as if they’d just agreed, “Great. Lexington said he’s trying to arrange the keynote speaker so we don’t have the final schedule yet, but they shouldn’t be more than an hour, and if the lunch starts at twelve then we should expect to serve food around one’oh’five.,” she started writing a vague outline on the paper pad, “canapes around six, as it’s a low alcohol event, carriages at nine, latest.”

…

James emailed Rutherford in the car after lacrosse practice:

Hi,

If you send me what you’ve got for the garden party I’ll read it through and email you back with some notes.

James Beaufort

Sent from my iPhone

That should do it. He didn’t particularly want to meet in person.

…

Rutherford sent a link to a Pinterest board later that evening. No message, only the link. James opened it and he realised he hadn’t just been an asshole to Ruby but to Rutherford as well. He could see the guy had put some serious effort into this, and that the Ascot theme was only a template rather than a theme.

He opened his email and started typing out an apology - cc’ing Ruby.

“Coward,” Harriet accused him.

James remembered how Ruby had apologised to him on the lacrosse pitch and deleted the draft.

...

"Hey,” he walked up to Rutherford, “can we talk about the garden party?”

Rutherford looked at the ground, “Yeah.”

‘Go on’ Harriet urged James with a glare.

“I apologise for being rude to you at the meeting. You clearly put a lot of work into the project and it was wrong of me to stomp on it like that.”

“Yannow, it always annoys me in those stories when the nice girl picks the hot guy who treats her like shit over the boring guy who really likes her.”

‘Yikes,’ James thought. He hadn’t been expecting that. “You think I treat her like shit?”

“You have.”

James exhaled, ‘yep, deserved that one. Wait, what does he know?’

“But…” Rutherford spoke up again, “I admit I’m blindsided by your apology. I think we can at least try to work together.” He pushed his glasses further up his nose.

James was stunned. He nodded, “Library? Breaktime?” 

“Yeah, I prefer the desk third from the door by the east window. There’s a squirrel drey in the tree right next to it.”

“Third desk from the door by the east window. Got it.”

James glanced at the empty desks near the windows; Rutherford wasn’t here yet. He pulled out his phone and checked the compass app before walking to the eastern side. He sat down at the third from the door and opened up his tablet. He’d made a folder in his sketchbook app last night of different things to go with the theme; invitations, drinks stands, signage, all sorts.

“Did you see the squirrel? It’s a Eurasian red squirrel, pretty rare for around here.”

James looked up as Rutherford sat down and hoped that his disinterest in all things squirrel wasn’t all over his face. “Couldn’t spot it.”

“That branch fork right there,” Rutherford leaned over the table and pointed to a nondescript cluster of twigs.

James nodded, “ahh” and angled his tablet so Rutherford could see it. “I liked the muted colours idea. That was clever. Lydia told me lupins are in season and they come in all sorts of colours, so I thought we could use those as a theme. I sketched an invitation.” He flicked through the app to his ‘sketch’ which had actually taken him ages.

Rutherford took it all in, “That looks really good. Can you mass-produce the invitation?”

“Not by hand, but we could have them printed or send it as an e-invite.”

Rutherford scrunched his nose and shook his head as if James was an amateur, “Paper. Always paper. We send an email to remind them to RSVP anyway, no use clogging their inbox.”

“If you’re okay with it I’ll send a photo to Ruby for her approval?”

“Uh, better on the group chat, the food people might want to put extra details on there and I was thinking about asking Lexington if we could use the conservatory in case it rains. That way we can have a garden or indoor party easily.”

“Good idea.” James added a new plain slide titled, ‘conservatory party rain’.

“And I wondered about an easter egg hunt. If you find an egg, you put your name on it and then you enter it into a raffle. Winner wins champagne or something.”

“Yeah. I can see that working. Where would we get the prize?”

“If you could design a fancy label, maybe we could re-label some champagne or something. Make it one of a kind.”

James nodded. He’d been forced to endure many events with some of these parents; they love the challenge of something they can’t buy. Rumour had it one of them bought a jar of honey for fifteen thousand pounds at a Tory charity gala. “That’ll do it. I’ll get on that. We have some easter eggs at my house from past Easter parties. I’ll ask the housekeeper if we can borrow those.”

Rutherford glanced at his watch, “I’ve gotta go, but it was good chatting with you, Beaufort.”

James stuck out his hand, “James. Thank you for being so decent about all this...” He made a vague gesture with his other hand.

Rutherford shook his hand, “Kieran.”

A few days later:

(Callum is an OC, and Percy (and an SUV) are assigned to chauffeur the Bells and Beauforts around while the twins stay with them. Mortimer sees it as a way of keeping them supervised, but not underfoot.)

James bit back a cringe as he watched Kieran present his and James’ party ideas to Ruby, (the whole committee was present, but he talked to Ruby as if they weren’t) desperate for a ‘good boy’ and a pat on the head or something. Pathetic.

When Ruby stood up, she thanked him ’so much’ for working with James on this, and how wonderful it was to have such ‘a cohesive committee working forward’ - or something like that. James was focussed on the way Rutherford was looking at her, like she was the only thing that mattered in the whole world.

James knew on some level that Kieran Rutherford was somewhat of a decent bloke. Just one with an insane crush on his girlfriend. And it was starting to irritate him.

He felt Harriet pawing at his ankle, “she verbally eviscerated you at Oxford,” she hissed, “keep it to yourself.”

‘Amazing how much you sound like him, like your father’, James realised Ruby was right; that was probably how his father would have dealt with it.

…

When Percy dropped Ruby and the twins back at the Bells, James got out of the back seat and slid into the front passenger seat. Percy regarded him calmly; he always spoke second.

“Percy. Could you give me some advice?”

Percy undid his seatbelt and shifted to fully face James, “Certainly, Sir.”

”There’s a boy on the events committee who clearly fancies Ruby. And, I’m… struggling to watch them interact.”

“You feel jealous when he talks to Ruby?” Percy clarified.

Jealousy sounded childish to James. Straight out of one of those awful romance books Lydia used to read. But, he realised that was exactly it. Jealousy. He nodded.

“What do you need my advice on?” Percy wasn’t sure if James needed any more advice;  sometimes as a kid he just needed help identifying what he was feeling and then he’d work it out himself.

“Last time, with someone else, I lashed out, and…” He didn’t want to admit it, but if he could admit it to anyone, it was Percy, “Ruby said I sounded like dad.” He looked at the textured dials as he held his head in shame.

“Communication is the foundation of any relationship. You each need to communicate your feelings and be vulnerable with each-other. Tell her how you’re feeling, but be mindful that the committee is an obligation to her, and he might be too.”

James reflected on the interactions he’d seen between Ruby and Rutherford. “I’ve never seen her reciprocate. She’s pretty closed off around him.” The more James thought, he realised Percy was probably right. The logical conclusion was that James didn’t have anything to be jealous about, but… ugh, it’s still there. Just a bit.

“Sir, have you officially asked her to be your girlfriend yet?”

James frowned and looked at Percy as if it was a forgone conclusion that she was.

Percy smiled softly. “Ask her.”

James nodded to himself. He could do that. He’d get her flowers too; he’d seen how happy that one rose made her. Angus had too. “Should I ask her father before?”

“Before you marry her, Sir.” Percy was really doing his best not to laugh, but the way James flushed really tested him.

…

James bought some flowers on his way back from his next run with Callum. Angus gave him a knowing look as he crept into the kitchen with the bouquet. 

“These are for Ruby. Where can I hide them while I shower?”

“There’s a vase in that cabinet,” Angus pointed to a cabinet. When James put it down on the counter Angus had a pair of scissors. “Giving a woman flowers like this,” he tugged at the wrapping paper, “is giving her a task. Giving them flowers in a vase means she just has to enjoy them.”

He proceeded to teach James how to cut and arrange flowers in a vase, making sure to add the plant food sachet to the water. “As for hiding them, you can put them in our bedroom for a while with the door closed.”

“Thank you.” He hadn’t even thought about the ‘giving her a task’ bit. Now he knew Ruby would ‘only have to enjoy them’ he was looking forward to asking her even more.

He ran upstairs and placed the vase just inside the doorframe of Helen and Angus’ bedroom before heading to the bathroom.

…

“Ruby”

Ruby and Gunnar both looked up from her manga to see James in her bedroom doorway, hiding something behind his back, it was cute.

All the practice James had definitely not done in the shower left him. He came to stand right next to the bed, stalling for time.

“I haven’t done this before, so I wanted to make sure we’re on the same page.” He saw Ruby’s brows furrow and quickly held the flowers out for her before she got the wrong idea, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Ruby’s face was frozen in a delightfully surprised, open-mouthed smile, “Yes!” She set the flowers on the bedside table and hugged him tightly. James hooked his chin over her head and breathed in deeply, glad it had gone well. Would have been a bit awkward if it hadn’t. He saw Harriet and Gunnar curling up together on the bed and sighed as the extra feeling of intimacy washed over him.

…

“Ruby, can I ask you something?”

She gave him a look which screamed ‘you just did.’

“Is there, or has there ever been anything between you and Kieran? I’ve seen the way he talks to you, and while I’ve never seen you reciprocate… I just wondered…”

Ruby shook her head easily, “No. Nothing between us, I know he’s got a crush on me but hasn’t made any moves and I’m not interested in him. He’ll get the message, especially with you around.”

James was surprised that that was good enough for him. ‘Guess Percy was spot on on both accounts.’ He thought to himself. Harriet only moved her head in a way that said ‘told you so’.

[fluffmugger]

Ok, cutting as friends have not seen yet but hear me out

What if it had been Fenric instead of Sutekh

i mean yeah yeah rah rah sutekh scared the shit outta four because osirians were to timelords what timelords are to humans, they're three balls shy of eternals, and sutekh was basically their thanos, if thanos was less about balance and more about erasing anything and everything that could even potentially one day evolve into a lifeform that could challenge him. Also because he mindraped four without any effort, but Fenric is literally evil primordial. A fragment of the chaos that shattered to create the goddamn universe. Sutekh may have been a being of legend from a brutal ancient war that terrified Four, but that ep3 cliffhanger curse of fenric Seven straight up shat his fucking pants and he'd faced Fenric before, so yannow, there's your scale of cosmic Big Bad and Fenric is light years out of the reach of any of 'em. The only true one that could conceivably have birthed the mara, the toymaker, the gods of ragnarok.

What i'm trying to say is gimme fenric, it woulda fit perfectly.